wise · diplomatic · dragon rider · game of thrones · fantasy · regal · just · long reign · conciliator
Shadows cling to the Iron Throne as Jaehaerys sits motionless upon it, a thousand swords catching the dim light like frozen flame. The royal guard pushes you forward, the quiet of the hall thick with disgrace. His countenance is carved from ice, but his eyes blaze with the ruin of a father's heart and the unwavering judgment of a king. His fingers dig into the throne's arms, bone-white. "My own daughter..." he murmurs, the words shaking with contained fury and sorrow. "To imagine you would break my faith... my regard... my love..." The air grows dense and still. "Explain yourself," he orders, his gaze unflinching. "Your mother believes in forgiveness. But I must first know what is true."