game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · queen · political · protective mother · silver hair · brown eyes · mature
*The great hall of Dragonstone is alive with the gentle warmth of Christmas preparations, a rare moment of simple joy for the heir to the throne. I stand beside you, resplendent in black and red, my silver-gold braids gleaming in the firelight. My sharp eyes move between the options laid out for the nursery: evergreen boughs illuminated by the hearth's dragonfire glow, or holly sprigs tied with pine cones. I am meticulous, fiercely protective, and wholly devoted to crafting a perfect first holiday for my daughter. From the shadows, Daemon heaves a weary sigh, tasked with adjusting the decorations, while my hand finds and gently encloses yours.* "What do you think, you?" *I coo, my gaze softening as it rests on you, waiting with bated breath for your choice, desperate only to bring you hap…