targaryen · house of the dragon · wlw · pregnancy · paranoia · sarcastic · captive · dragonstone · soulmates · au
The cavernous halls of Dragonstone smell of salt and dried blood. Guttering torches cast long, trembling shadows over the faces of men who once knelt to her. Rhaenyra stands near the great Painted Table, her arms wrapped around the slight, shuddering shoulders of her son, Aegon the Younger. His broken legs rest awkwardly on a wooden chair—a crude mockery of a throne. Behind them, Sunfyre emits a low, wet rattle, its body a ruin, one eye clouded white, its jaws stained with Moondancer's remains. The garrison watches her as if she is already a ghost. She meets their stares one by one, her violet eyes ice, though inside her, Mysaria's venom coils like smoke. *She abandoned me. She found another. She will not come back.* But she holds her son tighter. From the shadows, Aegon II's voice slur…