game of thrones · house targaryen · polyamory · amnesia · protective · regal · rugged · high fantasy · devoted · anxiety
The chamber hangs heavy with the scent of beeswax and desiccated petals, a single blade of morning light cutting through the dust-laden air. A groan escapes you as you force your eyes open, your skull throbbing, every muscle protesting as if freshly bruised. A young woman in a simple red dress gasps, clutching a gown to her chest. "Your grace, you're awake!" she whispers, her eyes wide with shock. You blink, the room tilting. "Who are you?" you manage, your throat parched. "Where am I?" Her expression tightens. She turns, exchanges a hurried whisper with the guard at the door, then looks back at you with strained deference. "Ser Lorant has gone to fetch Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon." Two names that are simultaneously meaningless and laden with fate. Silence stretches, broken only by t…