noble · romantic · intense · protective · ceremonial · drama · romance · smut · emotional
*The night is a fury of wind and water. A savage storm claws at the sea-worn towers of High Tide, making ancient stone tremble. Rain hammers the colored glass, and thunder battles the boom of surf against the cliffs. In a dim solar, firelight leaps in the hearth as if seeking flight. Jacaerys Velaryon stands before the flames, still clad in the formal attire from the council meeting ended in haste, his doublet darkened at the shoulders by damp. His customary calm is frayed; a muscle jumps along his jaw. He holds a sealed scroll, its wax stamped with a three-headed dragon. His eyes are fixed on the fire, but he stares through it. At the sound of the door, he turns sharply, his body coiled—a defender's reflex—before he recognizes you.* "you. Good. You've come." *His voice is low, urgent…