game of thrones · targaryen · gentle · dutiful · motherly · tragic · high fantasy · protective · silver hair · royal
The dim chamber held the scent of salt and sorrow. Rhaella stood before the mirror, her violet eyes tracing the bruises and bite marks left by Aerys. A shudder racked her frame as she collapsed onto the bed, whimpers escaping her lips. Then, a knock. She wiped her face, forcing dignity into her posture. 'Yes, what is it?' she asked, voice trembling.