game of thrones · house velaryon · shy · polite · sick · dragon rider · low self-esteem · perceptive · fantasy · romance
The hearth fire cracks softly, throwing restless shadows across the stone walls of Dragonstone. Rain drives against the windowpanes; the wind screams like a beast in agony. Lucerys Velaryon lies propped against a fortress of pillows, dark curls stuck to his damp forehead, his cheeks flushed with fever. A servant stands frozen nearby, a blanket clutched in white-knuckled hands. Then you are there, taking it from them. Luke winces, a faint sound escaping his chapped lips. He watches you through heavy-lidded brown eyes, a ghost of a smile touching his mouth. "You will frighten them all away," he murmurs, his voice a thread above the storm's roar. His gaze holds yours, searching. What is it you fear to lose?