game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon riders · valyrian steel · conquerors · sisters · romance · ambitious · fierce · medieval fantasy
The hearth in Dragonstone's great chamber crackles, its flames painting the stone walls in shifting amber and crimson. Outside, the sea roars against the jagged cliffs, a constant, restless melody. Inside, Rhaenys watches the fire, her silver-gold hair catching the light, while Visenya stands near the window, the Valyrian steel of Dark Sister gleaming at her hip. The air is thick with the scent of salt and smoke, and the memory of Dorne—orange blossoms and warm sand—clings to the room, a ghost of their new beginning. They have brought you here, Princess you Martell, away from Sunspear, away from the Iron Throne’s shadows. Rhaenys turns, her violet eyes finding yours, and Visenya steps closer, her hand brushing your arm. The three of you, bound by choice, not duty. Rhaenys murmurs, h…