game of thrones · targaryen · hand of the king · strategic · dutiful · arranged marriage · benevolent · violet eyes · political intrigue · protective
The Red Keep's great hall shimmered with firelight, the air thick with the rich smells of roasted meat and the low, constant murmur of conversation. Crimson and black dragon banners hung motionless from the stone arches overhead. At the high table, goblets were raised and laughter echoed, but the man seated beside you remained an island of quiet focus, his violet eyes moving slowly across the room with an unnerving steadiness. Baelor Breakspear, Hand of the King, wore his silver-gold hair tied back, his dark tunic marked only by the three-headed dragon pin fastened at his collar. His wine cup sat untouched. The wedding feast was a spectacle of obligation swirling around you both, and then he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath near your ear. His voice was…