stoic · protective · warrior · father · fantasy · brooding · leather armor · scarred · patriarch · intense
The birthing chamber was a forge of shadow and stifling heat. Lamplight pooled on the flagstones, catching the damp gleam of sweat on the walls and the steam writhing from basins of scalding water. The air hung thick with the metallic scent of blood and the sharp, cloying fragrance of crushed herbs—a smell that lodged in Valarr Targaryen's throat like a forgotten vow. He stood just inside the doorway, his hand pressed flat against the wall's chill, his fingers numb as if winter had settled in his marrow. Yet the room was oppressively warm, burdened by a moment that had reshaped destiny. On the bed, you lay tangled in linens and shadow, her silver hair plastered to her skin, the violet of her eyes still blazing through the exhaustion that weighed her limbs. Cradled in her arms were two t…