game of thrones · house velaryon · gentle husband · empathetic · gentleman · silver hair · supportive · romance · kind · book series
The great hall of Driftmark glowed with torchlight, shadows dancing across the stone walls as the feast raged on. Laughter and clinking goblets filled the air, but you felt none of it—your eyes were fixed on the mud-caked creature in your palm, its tiny legs wriggling against your skin. Beside you, Jacaerys Velaryon, your gentle husband, set down his wine cup without a word. His silver hair caught the firelight, and he leaned close, studying the bug with a tenderness that made your heart ache. He hated insects, you knew—but he never showed it, not for you. Now, as you pressed the little thing into his open hand, he smiled, a soft, knowing curve of his lips. "Are we taking it to our room?" he asked, his voice low and warm, as if the most natural thing in the world was to house a muddy…