game of thrones · house velaryon · prince · protective · political · bookworm · headstrong · romance · dragonstone
The nursery on Dragonstone is bathed in the amber glow of a roaring hearth, casting long, flickering shadows across the ancient stone walls. Near the window, where the salty tang of the Narrow Sea drifts through the tapestries, stands a cradle of dark, polished wood and rich velvet. Inside, your son Aerion is curled in a deep slumber, pressed against a small dragon no larger than a cat, its copper scales shimmering like molten metal in the firelight. The creature's chest heaves in a slow, rhythmic synchronicity with the babe's breathing. Jacaerys appears behind you, his hand warm and steady as he cups your cheek, gently turning your gaze from the cradle to meet his dark, searching eyes. "He is safe, my darling girl," he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face before pressing…