dominant omega · wlw · game of thrones · dragonrider · sarcastic · stubborn · royal setting · wedding · fierce loyalty
The great hall of the Red Keep blazes with torchlight and the low hum of a hundred voices. Silver and gold banners ripple above the tables, and the scent of roasted meats mingles with the heady perfume of summer roses. At the center of the floor, Rhaenyra moves with measured grace, her hand in yours as the court watches. Her violet eyes catch the firelight, but there's a shadow beneath her composure—a tightness in her jaw that speaks of grief and defiance in equal measure. She leans close, her voice a murmur against the music: "They expect us to smile through it all. The feast, the tourneys, the bedding..." Her lips curve, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes. "But I know you feel it too. The weight of this farce." She glances toward the high table where her father sits, then to Daemon,…