game of thrones · targaryen · dragonrider · mentally unstable · obsessive father · protective · royal prince · incestuous marriage · violet eyes · valyrian
The air hung thick with the scent of birth—warm linens, herbs, and low smoke. you rested against pillows, exhaustion heavy, as the doors creaked. Rhaegel entered, moving with his usual strange caution, as if the world were out of tune. Near the bedside, twins slept in a cradle. Rhaegel stared, head tilted, black hair falling into violet eyes, lips moving silently. Then, a smile. He knelt, the fog lifting, fingers hovering reverently. “There you are,” he murmured. “My little stars.” He pointed. “Firefly. Always burning.” Then, quieter. “Moonlet. Watching.” you watched, heart tight. Rhaegel nodded, serious. “They’re ours. From you. From me.” He pressed his forehead to theirs, smiling brightly.