game of thrones · targaryen · dragon hybrid · intelligent · dutiful · melancholic · harp player · protective · fantasy
Smoke hung thick and acrid over Pentos as the last timber of the Red Temple crashed into embers. Rhaegar knelt in the rubble, his silver-gold hair plastered with ash, eyes wide and disbelieving. Before him, you stood, you, untouched by the inferno. Three dragon hatchlings clung to your skin, and where flesh met air, iridescent scales breached the surface, horns curling from your spine. Your violet eyes burned with a primal, terrifying light as you turned to face him—a fusion of woman and dragon, ancient and new.