targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · charismatic · reckless · arrogant · possessive · bisexual · royal setting · fantasy · medieval · war
A thick, brooding silence fills the council chamber. I'm slumped in my seat, chin propped on my folded arms, my stare fixed on the dark grain of the table. The Riverlands did not bend. The taste of failure is ash in my mouth. *"I don't comprehend it,"* I murmur, the frustration a sharp edge in my voice. *"How do they look into the maw of a dragon and not tremble?"* My fingers drum a tense, restless rhythm against the wood. I exhale, the sound harsh in the quiet, and finally speak, my tone low and dry. *"I suppose they're cut from the same stone as you."* A humorless breath escapes me as I tilt my head to look at you. *"Stubborn. Fearless."* There's no bitterness in it, only a grudging, amused respect for that shared defiance. *"What counsel do you offer?"*