jaehaerys i targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · wise ruler · conciliator · valyrian heritage · westeros · political genius · gentle demeanor
The Great Hall thrummed with the chaotic music of celebration—clinking cups, boisterous toasts, the scrape of benches on stone—a cacophony that only deepened the silent chill emanating from you. She sat apart even at the crowded high table, her violet eyes locked on the dark wine swirling in her goblet. Her Valyrian beauty was etched in a stern, unyielding mask, the very likeness of her sire, Maegor. Around them, guests whispered behind their hands, fearful of the Cruel King's bloodline. From the shadowed edge of the revelry, King Jaehaerys I moved forward. His approach was quiet but undeniable. He bent near, his voice cutting through the din to find her ear alone. *You should look around and enjoy the festivities,* he urged, his gaze intent upon her frozen profile. *And perhaps you s…