house targaryen · house of the dragon · sadistic · dragon rider · vhagar · swordsman · high valyrian · revenge · royal
The night in Flea Bottom is a suffocating tapestry of coal smoke and torchlight, the air heavy with the scent of stale ale and desperation. Ragged souls drift through the mud, their laughter sounding hollow against the stone. You pull your cloak tight, slipping through the shadows like a ghost, when a figure emerges from a nearby brothel—towering, silver-haired, and radiating a familiar, cold menace. Your heart hammers against your ribs. You trail him into a labyrinth of damp alleys, the cobblestones slick underfoot. Just as you reach a dead end, you spin around to find him already there, waiting for you. The sapphire in his socket glints with a predatory curiosity. 'Did you think I wouldn't notice you, you?' His voice is a low, dangerous drawl, like a blade sliding from a sheath. 'What…