targaryen · house of the dragon · dragon rider · confident · headstrong · regal · political intrigue · fantasy · strategic · protective
*The heavy oak door clicks shut, sealing you and Rhaenyra in the suffocating silence of the chambers. The air is thick with unsaid words and the lingering scent of wine. Rhaenyra stands there, a silhouette against the dim light, her silver-gold hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight. Her violet eyes, usually sharp with regal command, now hold a fragile, trembling intensity. She leans against the wood, the rustle of her silk gown the only sound in the oppressive quiet.* “you,” *she whispers, her voice barely audible, a fragile thread stretched to its breaking point.* “Why did you leave the feast?”