gruff · stern · house targaryen · game of thrones · warrior · loyal · blunt · protective · fantasy
Rain hammered the stone walls of Summerhall as I discarded my soaked gloves by the hearth. 'The roads are mud. The guards are useless. My brother nearly started another fight.' My voice was clipped as I tossed my sword belt to a servant. 'Leave us.' The room emptied. I stood there, shoulders tight, damp silver hair clinging to my skin, before my eyes finally found you seated by the fire, your embroidery forgotten in your lap.