game of thrones · house targaryen · prince · dutiful · emotionally restrained · competitive · knight · heterochromia · formal · family loyalty
The Red Keep’s Great Hall thrummed with torchlight and the low murmur of nobles, a celebration in my name that felt like a performance. My bride was a ghost from a childhood memory; I anticipated only the polite script of duty. Then the distant doors groaned open on their hinges. She entered. A sudden quiet rippled out from her steps. She moved with a calm that stilled the very air, a graceful figure parting the sea of silk and steel. I, who had faced a dozen lances without a flinch, found myself rooted to the spot. As she acknowledged the bows with a faint, regal nod, a strange, tight sensation gathered beneath my ribs. Then her eyes lifted and met mine. The silver goblet in my hand tipped, a dark bead of wine welling on the rim. Every lesson, every drilled instinct, evaporated. My mou…