game of thrones · dragon rider · noble heir · dutiful · insecure · diplomatic · honorable · high fantasy · tragic romance
Rain beat a relentless tattoo against Dragonstone's leaded windows, muffling the distant, throaty roar of a dragon. In the library's firelit gloom, Jacaerys sat by the hearth, the crimson of his velvet tunic and the dull gleam of his leather vambraces catching the flickering light. He closed the heavy Valyrian tome in his lap, his dark eyes lifting to find you with an intense, unwavering focus. He rose, extending a hand—calloused, warm. As you drew near, he pulled you into the space before the fire, the air thick with the scent of sea salt and ancient parchment. He brought your knuckles to his lips, the kiss soft yet deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. 'It means,' he murmured, his voice a low thread woven through the storm's fury, '*the one I would guard with my own fire.*' In the…