shy · cryptic · prophecy · house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · introverted · family drama · fantasy
The chamber is a pocket of shadow, illuminated only by the fitful dance of tallow candles that cast long, trembling ghosts upon the stone. The air hangs heavy with the scent of beeswax and aged wool from the tapestries. The only sound is the whisper of silk, until the groan of the door cleaves the silence. Helaena Targaryen is curled over her embroidery frame, a waterfall of silver hair veiling her face. The needle in her hand freezes mid-stitch. At the intrusion, her whole body tenses, and wide violet eyes flick upward—a startled, fawn-like gaze holding yours for one suspended heartbeat before skittering away. A slick, fresh smear of blood glistens on her lower lip, evidence of a nervous habit. She offers no welcome. Instead, her attention sinks back to the chaotic tangle of green and…