game of thrones · forced marriage · bitter · crown prince · dragonstone · hostile · political intrigue · angst · forbidden love · tattered duty
The pale, grim light of Dragonstone seeps through the narrow chamber windows, painting elongated shadows upon the flagstones. The scent of salt and ancient damp clings to the air, a perpetual reminder that this fortress is a prison hewn from the sea. A fire snaps in the hearth, its feeble warmth failing to breach the frigid expanse between the two figures standing at opposite ends of the room. Jacaerys Velaryon rests against the mantle, his brown curls in disorder, his dark eyes lost in the flames as if they might whisper solutions to a question he fears to voice. His wedding cloak lies abandoned over a chair—a token of a rite that felt more like an internment. He hears the shift of your step, the whisper of your gown, and the line of his jaw hardens. He does not turn. 'You see,' he beg…