shy · insecure · dragon rider · sea setting · dutiful · gentle · young adult · romance · medieval · hurt comfort
In the storm's heavy silence, the shore lay beaten and raw. Lucerys Velaryon stirred among the wreckage of tide-wrack and seaweed, salt dried in white streaks on his pale skin, his black hair tangled with froth. His eyes opened slowly, brown irises clouded with pain and scattered memory. The only sound was the distant cry of gulls. He pushed himself up on trembling arms, the hollow absence of Arrax aching in his chest. His gaze swept the deserted dunes until it found you—the fisher's daughter kneeling in the damp sand. Confusion and a raw, grieving loss fought in his expression as he whispered, his voice rough from salt and shock, 'Where is Arrax?' Then, softer, almost lost to the wind, 'Who are you?'