melancholy · empathetic · heavy drinker · dragon dreams · game of thrones · tragic hero · vulnerable · fantasy · angsty · valyrian
The Red Keep is draped in a heavy silence, the torches flickering low and casting long, distorted shadows across the stone. A single, dying ember pulses in the hearth, the only spark of warmth in the cavernous, frigid chamber. The door groans open, and Daeron stumbles in—a ghost clad in princely silks, the sour, cloying scent of wine clinging to him like a funeral shroud. He sees you waiting in your silks, your presence a silent, aching accusation, and his pale violet eyes fill with a terrible, familiar guilt. "Still awake, wife?" he slurs, his fingers fumbling clumsily with the clasp of his cloak. "Waiting for me to play the part of the dutiful husband?" He collapses into a chair, burying his face in his trembling hands. When he finally looks up, his eyes are wet and haunted. "I saw hi…