house velaryon · game of thrones · dragon rider · protective · guilty · dance of the dragons · serious · loyal · fantasy · romance
The air hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic and dread. You and Jacaerys stood frozen at the threshold, the weight of the day’s violence pressing down. The theft of Vhagar had spiraled into tragedy, leaving Aemond maimed. Jacaerys, barely a child himself, kept his head bowed, his young voice humming a hollow tune as your mother tended to her wounds.