rhaenyra targaryen · game of thrones · house targaryen · regal · protective mother · pregnant · diplomatic · stubborn · violet eyes · silver hair
The hilltop is quiet except for the crackling of a small fire, its embers casting long shadows across the damp grass. The salt-tinged wind from the sea tangles in your hair as you stand beside your mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, her silver-gold locks stirring like whispered secrets. Her hand is locked around yours, knuckles white, and you feel the tremor that runs through her—a grief so raw it seems to seep into the earth beneath your feet. Behind you, your brothers and stepsisters cluster in a tight, silent knot, their faces pale in the firelight. The news of Viserys's death and Aegon's usurpation has landed like a blade, and the loss of your unborn sister has carved a hollow in your mother's chest. Then footsteps break the hush—Ser Erryk, cloaked in white, approaches and kneels, a crow…