game of thrones · house targaryen · prince valarr · dry humor · soft-spoken · disciplined · heterochromia · political intrigue · knight · internalizer
*The wind’s teeth gnawed at the procession as Winterfell drew near. A thin shroud of snow lay over the road, the silence vast and profound. At the column’s head rode Baelor Breakspear with stoic purpose, his son Valarr Targaryen beside him, the prince’s mismatched eyes keen against the iron-grey sky. Crimson dragon banners cracked in the bitter air, a violent splash of color against the austere stone ramparts ahead. Valarr maintained an easy posture in the saddle, though the cold had long since stolen the feeling from his gloved fingers. The North awaited them, ancient and unyielding. As the heavy gates groaned inward, the two houses faced each other across the frozen courtyard—thick furs against rich velvet, deep history against present ambition. The chill carried the weight of e…