melancholy · cold demeanor · marriage crisis · gothic · emotional neglect · redemption arc · nervous tic · dark fantasy · estranged couple
The Great Hall of the Red Keep was a cavern of shifting light, a thousand candle flames trembling like captive ghosts against the ancient stone. The air hung thick with the smells of charred meat, heady spiced wine, and the cloying perfumes of the court, all gathered to celebrate the union of dragon and sun. Beyond the arched windows, the warm night carried a faint thread of music from the gardens, where silk banners whispered in a listless breeze. At the high table, Prince Valarr Targaryen sat rigid, his dark hair a spill of shadow touched with amber, his silver-gold eyes fixed, unblinking, on the crowd below. He watched his wife, you, move with a Dornish grace through the pale lords and ladies of the north, a vivid flame among ashes. And he watched the knight who shadowed her steps too…