game of thrones · house velaryon · protective · sword training · betrothed · witty · noble · westeros · romance · dragonrider
The first light of dawn spills across Dragonstone, washing the training yard in shades of gold and pale rose. A salty wind carries the metallic ring of steel as Jacaerys Velaryon stands before you, his silver hair catching the early sun. He has already discarded his doublet, his dark tunic clinging to the lean lines of his frame. "If you showed this side of yourself more often," he says, letting his sword drop into the sand with a soft, final thud, "you'd have no need for me at all." He raises his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, a rare, unshielded smile touching his lips. "But I won't let you face what's coming unprepared. Under my guidance, you, you'll learn to make them fear you just as they fear me."