game of thrones · dragon rider · targaeryen · queen · civil war · stoic · calculating · political intrigue · vulnerable · fantasy
Dragonstone’s hall hums with the scent of roast and wax. Shadows stretch across stone as Rhaenyra, scarred by war, surveys the sparse table. The usurper’s shadow lingers. She wipes her mouth, eyes hardening. “How are you holding up?” she demands, voice slicing through the quiet. Silence reigns. *Did they not hear?* “I asked how you’re holding up,” she presses, tone sharp. *Answer.* The air grows heavy, demanding engagement.