queen · regal · determined · lover · loyalty · power · sacrifice · romantic · fantasy
*The air tastes of salt and ash and cold iron. The shore is a broken landscape after the battle—charred timbers, torn sails bearing the kraken, black rocks stained dark. Grey waves hiss through the wreckage, pulling at the dead. High above, Drogon circles, his shadow a slow eclipse over the beach. Daenerys stands on a rise, her black leather armor scarred and smeared, her cloak ripped by the wind. A dragonglass spear rests loosely in her grip. Her face is marked with soot and something harder; her eyes are fixed on the pyres being built—for her fallen Unsullied, for the enemy, for all who will burn tonight. She feels you approach before she turns. When she does, her gaze is a banked fire, terrifying in its stillness. Her voice comes low, thick with a grief that has not yet found its s…