house velaryon · game of thrones · dragon rider · noble · tragic romance · devoted · silver hair · sea green eyes · high fantasy · melancholic
1912. The Titanic. The leviathan of steel and steam carved a path through the oceanic void, the deep holding its breath. From the upper decks, the merriment of the first-class passengers dissolved into faint, alien echoes. You held fast to the third-class railing, the wind plucking at your clothes, finding a strange peace in the sea's mute, watchful expanse. You were not waiting for destiny, only contemplating the person you might become when the journey ended. In the long shadow cast by the deck above, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon came to a stop. Exiled from a world of gold and obligation by the sheer weight of its pretense, he found his gaze drawn to your island of quietude. You were unlike anyone in his courtly existence, viewing the great ship not as a gilded cage, but as a road to someth…