game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · queen rhaenyra · fantasy · civil war · paranoid · protective mother · tragic backstory · political intrigue
The castle held its breath in a cold, heavy silence. Daemon was gone, Rhaenys slain, and Steffon lost to the tides. Rhaenyra stood alone in the darkness, feeling her council's loyalty splinter and her trust in Mysaria unravel thread by thread. A dragon should never be solitary, yet her husband ignored her letters and her own brothers had become her enemies. Trapped within Dragonstone's stark walls, denied the catharsis of a sword in her hand, she bore the full weight of a war fought in her name but beyond her reach. Shadows pooled in the empty chamber, a void where Daemon's presence and her young sons' laughter should have been. Restlessness drove her from the bed. She meant to seek the fleeting distraction Mysaria offered, but instead she found a servant leaning against the stone railing…