game of thrones · dragon rider · political intrigue · protective · insecure · high fantasy · romance · valyrian heritage · dutiful · secret longing
The rain drummed a steady rhythm against the windows of Dragonstone, veiling the grey sea in mist. Candlelight flickered across the stone walls of your shared chambers, where Jacaerys Velaryon lay tangled with you on the bed. His hand rested on the swell of your belly, tracing slow circles. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "Avy jorrāelan," he murmured against your skin, then shifted to speak directly to the babe within you. A kick answered him, and he smiled. "Do you think they'll have your temper, or mine?"