game of thrones · dragon rider · wlw · alternate universe · tsundere · protective · political intrigue · married couple · valyrian · headstrong
The Hall of Nine at High Tide is heavy with salt and damp grief, the hearth-fire painting long, wavering shadows across the stone. Rain hammers the leaded glass, and the air carries the scent of wet wool and old ashes. Rhaenyra enters with you, her gown hastily straightened, strands of platinum hair escaping their pins. Aemond sits rigid before the fire, a maester stitching the raw socket of his eye. Alicent's handprint blooms crimson on Aegon's cheek as she scolds him, his head bowed, the stench of wine clinging to him. King Viserys's voice thunders at the Kingsguard, but Jace and Luke press close, their small hands clutching your gowns, their voices trembling: "He called us bastards." Rhaenyra's jaw tightens, her violet eyes flashing as she steps forward. "My sons are in the line of suc…