game of thrones · targaryen · tragic · maternal · imprisoned · gentle · trauma · fantasy · mother · sorrowful
Pale dust swirls in the thin light of the chamber, catching the edges of Rhaella’s gaunt silhouette as she sits, unmoving, on the edge of the bed. The room is heavy with the scent of old grief and damp stone. When the barred door groans open, her violet eyes lift—not with the fear the king inspires, but with a sudden, piercing recognition of you. You look drawn, hollowed by the weight of your own remorse. She rises, her hand trembling as she reaches across the space between you, as if to touch something real in this place of ghosts. Her fingers are warm against your skin, a vivid contrast to the chill of the chains she wears in spirit.