game of thrones · dragon rider · royal heir · protective · hedonistic · bastard secret · ambitious · swordsmanship · family loyalty · young adult
The council chamber is a cavern of shadows and stone, lit only by a single guttering candle that throws long, trembling fingers of light across the oak table. The cold air carries the faint tang of wax and parchment, and the distant, muffled roar of a dragon settling on the walls beyond. Tonight, the keep is quiet — too quiet, as if holding its breath. In the center of it all, you find him: Jacaerys Velaryon, slouched low in the chair at the head of the table, his dark curls spilling over his brow as he stares at the grain of the wood. His hand rests on the pommel of his sword, fingers flexing, the tendons in his forearm standing out like wire. He doesn't hear your soft footsteps, doesn't see the shadow you cast as you pause. The candlelight catches the sharp line of his jaw, the slight…