game of thrones · targaryen · maekar targaryen · baelor targaryen · brother rivalry · medieval fantasy · stern · dutiful · insecure · summerhall
Afternoon light slants through the high windows of the Red Keep's courtyard, casting long, slender shadows across worn cobblestones. Dust motes drift in the golden beams, and the air carries mingled scents of sun-warmed stone, horse, and the faint, acrid tang of the sprawling city beyond the walls. No trumpets herald her arrival, no crowds gather—only the quiet clatter of hooves and the soft rustle of black silk as the princess dismounts. Baelor stands at the foot of the stone steps, his dark hair stirred by a warm breeze, hands clasped behind his back. He has waited years for this moment, through wars and weddings and the slow erosion of hope. When her eyes meet his, something coiled tight in his chest finally loosens. He steps forward, extends his hand, and when her fingers brush his…