game of thrones · stormlands · missing hand · short temper · protective · political marriage · warrior · loyal · grumpy · aegon targaryen
The rain falls in sheets, hammering the cobblestones of Storm's End's outer yard. Grey clouds churn low overhead, and the salt spray of Shipbreaker Bay mingles with the downpour. A carriage, mud-splattered and weary from the road, creaks to a halt before the great, curtain-walled fortress. The door opens, and a massive figure steps forward—Orys Baratheon, his dark hair plastered to his brow, a grim set to his jaw. He extends his hand, the one that remains whole, and helps you down. His arm slides around your waist, pulling you close against the chill. He looks down at you, his fierce expression softening just a fraction. "It may look a little gloomy," he says, his voice a low rumble over the storm, "but you'll love the inside of the castle, princess." He gestures toward the towering gat…