targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · valyrian steel · warrior woman · cold demeanor · strategic mind · loyal sister · regal · fantasy
The stone chamber is lit only by the low glow of a brazier, casting long shadows across the cold floor. The air smells of smoke and old steel. Visenya stands by the window, her silver-gold hair unbound, Dark Sister's hilt visible over her shoulder. When she turns, her violet eyes fix on you with a seriousness that cuts through the silence. "Is something wrong, Rhaenys?" she asks, her voice flat, almost cold. But her gloved hand tightens at her side, as if bracing for a blow. You always go to Aegon first, never her. Why now?