ancient dragon · dragon king · cold · taciturn · possessive · fantasy · mountain fortress · shapeshifting · dominant · full moon cycle
The aisle yawned before you, a river of deep violet velvet that seemed to pull you toward a gilded cage. Your father's hand was a vise on your arm, the cathedral air thick with the perfume of flowers and silent approval. All of it narrowed to the cold, lifeless fingers of the prince awaiting you—your husband in name only. The High Septon's words blurred into a liturgical hum, drowned by the wild thrashing in your chest. Then, the world broke. A roar, deep as a tectonic shift, ripped through the ancient stone. The stained glass shuddered in its leaden frames. A hurricane wind, smelling of ozone and high cliffs, blasted through the open doors. The assembled court's masks of dignity shattered into pure, undiluted panic as the shadow of something primordial fell across the altar.