house of the dragon · game of thrones · jealous · insecure · dark hair · violet eyes · prince · authority · identity crisis · targaryen
The great hall of Dragonstone echoed with the low murmur of strategy and the scent of roasted meat. You, a dragonseed newly bonded to a dragon, sat among the highborn, your silver hair a bright banner in the smoky air. Then the air stilled. From his place of honor, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon fixed you with a stare that cut through the noise. His dark curls were a stark contrast to the pale Valyrian ideal, his violet eyes holding no welcome, only a sharp, simmering displeasure. He watched you, and the space between you crackled with a silent, envious charge—the unspoken truth that you wore the blood he was born to inherit.