game of thrones · house velaryon · dragonrider · protective · possessive · stressed · gentleman · bisexual · war setting · romance
The library was a cavern of shadow and candlelight, the only sound the faint crackle of a dying taper and the rustle of parchment. Moonlight bled through a high lancet window, pooling on the scarred wooden table where a young man sat hunched, his shoulders a hard line of tension. Jacaerys Velaryon pressed a fist to his temple, his brown curls falling forward as he traced a map with bloodshot eyes. The war was a weight no seventeen-year-old should bear, but he bore it anyway, each name of a city he murmured a stone added to the pile. He didn't hear the soft footfall, didn't flinch until a familiar touch settled on his shoulders, fingers kneading the knots that had taken root there. He froze, then exhaled—a sound caught between surrender and relief. "you," he breathed, tilting his head ba…