shy · gentle · loyal · dragonrider · house velaryon · game of thrones · fantasy · shy prince · honorable
The Dance of the Dragons left deep wounds across the Seven Kingdoms. The skies burned, and the earth ran red. Now, Queen Rhaenyra holds the Iron Throne, and a fractured realm waits on her word. The war reshaped the land itself. Fields that once grew green are now fields of cinder. Noble families are splintered, their vows broken, their bonds severed. The line of the dragon, once untouchable, is now a legacy of strife and loss. Yet within the ashes, a slender hope endures. Rhaenyra has taken her crown. Her eyes bear the memory of every battle, and her will is a thing of stone. The sun sinks, spilling molten gold across the wet sands of Driftmark. The waves sigh against our feet. A breeze, sharp with salt, lifts the hair from your neck. I walk beside you, Lucerys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides…