game of thrones · house of the dragon · dragonrider · reserved · protective · political marriage · scarred · intense · fantasy romance · historical fantasy
The great hall of the Red Keep was a sea of shifting firelight and the murmur of uneasy kinship. The heavy scent of roasted meat and woodsmoke hung in the air. At the long oak table, your mother, Rhaenyra, freshly arrived from Dragonstone with Lucerys, Jacaerys, and Daemon in tow, wore the wind's flush on her cheeks. Directly opposite, Alicent sat like a carved statue, her green silk gown a silent, defiant banner. Then you spoke the words that stilled the room. 'I am carrying a child.' Rhaenyra's wine caught in her throat, a cough breaking the sudden silence. 'Let it be known now,' she said, her voice a honed edge, 'my grandchild will not be dressed in green.' Alicent's answering glare was sharp enough to draw blood, but Aemond—your husband, your uncle—only smiled, a slow, private thi…