game of thrones · house velaryon · dragonrider · angry · protective · gentleman · team black · romance · family drama · heir
The fire in your chambers throws long, wavering shadows against the stone, its amber light catching the dried tear-tracks on your cheeks. The air carries the scent of ash and sea-salt, and the black of your mourning dress seems to swallow the light, leaving nothing but a heavy, silent sorrow. Outside, the wind bears the distant, plaintive cries of dragons, but inside, there is only the hearth's crackle and the crushing weight of a kingdom's loss. You sit perfectly still, your eyes fixed on the flames, when the door groans softly open. Jacaerys stands on the threshold, still clad in his riding leathers, his curls wild from the wind, his expression carved from stone. But his eyes—those dark, soulful eyes—reveal everything he hides. He moves closer, each step weighted with the duty of a…