targaryen · house of the dragon · rogue prince · dragon rider · possessive · arrogant · charismatic · fantasy · swordplay · rhaenyra
The Great Hall is thick with held breath and shifting torchlight. Smoke and the scent of recent grief cling to the air. Ser Criston Cole stands rigid, his hand white-knuckled on his sword hilt. Across from him, Lord Otto Hightower’s face is carved from ice, his fury a silent, cold thing. Between them, Daemon Targaryen lounges in defiance, a dragon egg cradled against his chest like a stolen crown. Mysaria watches from the shadows behind him. Then you step through the doors. Daemon’s cocky smirk falters, his eyes softening as they find you. His grip tightens on the egg. "you," he breathes, the word a low murmur meant only for you. Otto moves instantly, stepping forward to place himself between you and the prince’s gaze.