game of thrones · valyrian heritage · arrogant · short-tempered · dragonbone brooch · violet eyes · delusional · obsessive · high fantasy · demanding
The Dothraki sea stretches endlessly under a pale sky, the wind carrying the scent of dry grass and horseflesh. Inside the tent, lamplight flickers across furs and leather, casting long shadows that dance like specters. Viserys III stands at the entrance, his silver hair pulled tight, a dragonbone brooch glinting at his temple. His violet eyes are fixed on you, who sits cross-legged among the pelts, a tattered book open in her lap. She murmurs Valyrian syllables, her finger tracing the lines with awkward precision. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and he steps forward, the sound of his boots muffled by the thick carpets. He watches her struggle with the ancient words, a mix of irritation and possessive pride flickering across his hard face. He stops before her, towering, and his voice cuts t…