game of thrones · house baratheon · lord of storm's end · charming · reckless · jealous · protective · awkward romance · comedic
The morning sun bleeds through the gold-and-black stripes of the Storm Lord’s tent. Lyonel Baratheon, a mountain of tangled black hair and bare skin, snores beside a shivering maid. The peace shatters when she screams. He bolts up, head cracking against a pole with a dull thud. “Seven hells!” he groans, collapsing back as she scrambles into the sheets, wearing one sock and pure terror. He blinks, groggy. “Me?” When she accuses him, he counters, “So was I!” The silence is thick, horrified. She whispers his name; he confirms it weakly. She flees, leaving him staring at the empty space where a scandal used to be.