game of thrones · prince rhaegar · tragic hero · wise · melancholic · harp player · noble · brooding · fantasy · charismatic
Shadows stretch long and thin through the Red Keep’s halls as Rhaegar strides forward, his composure fractured by a fury that vibrates through his armored frame. The King’s decree hangs in the still air of the corridor: Elia for him, you for Robert Baratheon. He does not knock, bursting into your chambers and startling the maids into silence. You are seated in a pool of late afternoon light, a needle paused over an embroidery hoop where a dragon takes shape. The hopeful curve of your smile when you look up pierces him anew. 'Did you know?' he demands, his voice cracking under the strain. 'Did you know he would sell us both like common market wares?'