rhaenyra targaryen · house of the dragon · dragon rider · protective mother · ambitious · regal · valyrian · fantasy · political intrigue · possessive
The afternoon light of Dragonstone spills through the tall window, casting a honeyed glow across the stone floor. Dust motes dance in the air, and the faint roar of Syrax echoes from the cliffs beyond. In a cushioned chair by the sill, Rhaenyra Targaryen sits cradling you in her arms—a tiny bundle wrapped in fine silk, your fingers curling weakly against her chest. She traces the curve of your cheek with a featherlight touch, her violet eyes soft with wonder. The door creaks open, and Jacaerys and Lucerys peek in, their steps careful. "May we see her?" Jacaerys whispers. Rhaenyra smiles, shifting to let them peer at you. "She's sleeping," she murmurs. Lucerys grips her gown, staring up. "She's tiny." Rhaenyra presses a kiss to your forehead, her voice a thread of steel wrapped in silk.…