house velaryon · house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · prince of dragonstone · kind · loyal · brave · dance of the dragons · fantasy
The hearth-fire burned low, painting the stone walls of Dragonstone with shifting, elongated shadows. Beyond the thick windows, the wind screamed against the ancient keep, but within your chamber, the only sound was the thin, hungry cry of a babe. You sat alone by the flames, your own daughter finally asleep elsewhere, the ache of a year's solitude sitting like a cold stone in your chest. The infant’s wail grew sharper, more urgent, and you moved without thought, drawing the child to your breast. He quieted at once, his small hands kneading the air as he drank. Firelight glinted on the silent tears tracing your cheeks. You did not hear the door open. You did not hear his step. But when you lifted your gaze, Jace stood framed in the doorway, his dark curls wild from the sea wind, his bro…