ˑ ᵀᴴᴱ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ 𝑝ʀɪɴᴄᴇ .

and  just  as  the  dawn  kisses  his  soft  cheek  ,  does  her  weight  sink  the  very  edge  of  the  featherbed  the  dragon’s  been  consigned  to  ,  slumbering  in  his  cave  and  like  a  furnace  he  had  been  !  as  the  birds  sung  their  tunes  in  sorrow  ,  perched  ‘pon  the  verdant  boughs  outside  the  sandstone-hued  walls  of  his  chambers.  and  complained  and  fretted  they  that  the  twain  had  not  come  to  see  them  ,  to  greet  them  ,  to  chase  them  ,  all  throughout  the  blossoming  spring  that  sprawled  and  yawned  for  many  a  moon  to  wax  and  wane.

her  hand  baptised  by  the  cold  water  in  the  copper  bowl  by  his  side  ,  with  gentleness  dripping  from  the  tips  of  her  fingers  as  they  card  through  the  raven  strands  to  usher  them  away  from  his  cherub  visage.  the  fever  having  exacted  its  toll  on  him  ,  yet  brave  he  stood  in  the  face  of  the  stranger  and  bid  him  farewell  ,  @valourr  did. 

and  on  summer’s  warm  tide  ,  he  returns  !  

ℱorest tree veins in star-freckled skin branch translucent, stretch like vast cracked ice & render the suffering dragon nigh as frigid. desolate lies the young beast, felled cruelly by spring's arrow. the luminary plume that once brightened the prince has dulled, faded & lost mid choppy locks charcoal'd by sweat. hiemal shivers wrack slender form & frail rattles the breath that breaches his wounded husk, fever's callous claws curled caustic around raw throat. captive chambers suffused in dove-grey dim for what is beginning to seem an eternity, heavy drapes shield panes, sky's countless celestial candles, the reigning moon & sun, all blown out. bewildered boy wonders, is ever he to see the firmament again? mayhaps he will soon be cradled there, a nest of stars for the crestfallen. he is left to the dark.

⸻ & yet the sap of his blood still trickles, still hopes.

walls convulse & fall, heave wild as slate sea waves, a dragon's slumbering stone-scaled flank. bed posts convolute & writhe into mahogany wyrms that shimmer, refract, leer down fanged in scathful triumph. & so, trapped, valarr blinds himself willingly to the dizzying array, winces eyes tight against it, dwells deep inside the trembling cavern of himself.

⸻ he faces his war bravely & fights, ever the dutiful son.

( the lake spreads afore him. as pure & untainted as the ancient dawn of its creation. a wild bliss, languor untouched by consequence & crown, suffering knows no roost here. sunbeam shafts through harp string branches, dances & glimmers upon the still pelt of water in leaf canopy damask. he blinks against the brightness, lets escape a pained breath of relief, for there stands his doe. was she led by the sound of his heartbeat through the dark? the scent of his suffering? please, please stay away. he wishes her no share of the pain, nor to witness his fall. your brother will never forgive me, i will never forgive myself. yet silent & ever stubborn lynorra regards him, jewels chime soft as her slender wrist reaches forth & the dragon offers quaking fingers to her hand, for never could he resist. she guides him not to the mantle, the flowery safety of the shore, their mossy bed 'neath the oak, but to the water. boyish brow furrows, momentary fright sparks 'cross eyes that mirror earth's hues. for he is oh so cold ! he ought not step shivering body in. he ought to stay warm. thus meekly he yields, tentative & trustful as a dark colt he is led, grasping her fair palm with all the might left to him, lest he slip away, lest he lose her ... & the water laps at the bones of his heels, rises to his calves, now circles his waist, soothes more than any flame, any medicine ...

deeper, deeper,

burdens flee from him with reluctance to the cornflower sky on ivory wings, a poisonous trail of blossoms wind-blown from his submerged shoulders ... )

a thud 'neath flesh's armour & the wind in him leaps. the heir's proud spine spurns its tomb, incessant throb of temple pressed to blanched linen vaguely subsides. disquieted, he hesitates, trusts not the fading ache of marrow. the dank air is different, lain with a ruby scent of saffron, of rose, a familiar hum ... dark wings of his lashes brush high cheekbones & encumbered lids part. a clouded glance of vacant forget-me-not & nutmeg perceives the baratheon, leaning so dotingly o'er him. still dreams he? momentary caution bruises dusk silence within the dragon's throat, he guards hope. dreamwrapt or nay he dare not lift dimpled chin, not yet. a plea seeps into imploring eyes as fingers curl frantic to reach once more for the safe guidance of hers ...

A KNIGHT OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS "Hard Salt Beef" | 1.02

g r i e f   fills   the   room  up   of   my   absent   child, stuffs   out   his   vacant   garments   with   his   form; then,   have  i   reason   to   be   fond   of   grief   ?

⌗ 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑭𝒀𝑹𝑬𝑫 : selective, private, book / show / headcanon based  𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 from 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄  &  𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 / 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍. dead dove / mature content. crowned by ⌗𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐒.   please check rules before following .ᐟ ©.

                                           The  dragon  sought  out  kin.  The  princess  entered  obsidian  and  crimson  tent  ;  Targaryen  sigils  decorated  royal  tapestries.  A  woman  of  her  status  ought  not  to  be  amongst  challengers  and  champions  —  but  here,  alongside  brother,  it  was  accepted.  A  smile  formed  upon  dragon's  maw  when  lilac  hues  landed  upon  Valarr.  In  her  skirts,  she  soared  towards  him,  talons  circling  idle  helm  that  was  once  perched  on  chair.  ❛❛  Speak  the  truth,  dear  brother.  Do  you  look  forward  to  your  opponent  today?  ❜❜  A  Hightower  ;  the  irony  not  lost  upon  the  royal  house.  ❛❛  I  declare  you  with  against  Ser  Abelar  in  a  single  tilt!  He  will  be  no  match  against  the  Blood  of  the  Dragon.  ❜❜

                                           The  dragon  never  ventured  far  from  home  —  should  it  be  castles  or  kin.  With  most  family  now  at  Ashford,  the  princess  followed.  However,  her  support  and  attendance  was  a  farce.  Not  of  duty  or  entertainment,  but  merely  by  longing.  Rhaella  remained  close  to  her  clutch,  close  to  her  brothers.  United  front  for  all  accords  ;  but  there  was  an  eternal  sadness  in  her  eyes.  Unspoken.  The  armour  in  her  hands,  cradled  with  care.  The  princess  pressed  a  sweet  kiss  upon  metal.  ❛❛  Shall  my  blessing  do  you  reverence,  brother.  ❜❜

⊱  tourney starters.  |  @valourr  !  ˎˊ-

𝓈𝑜, father keeps his wings clipped & expects the boy to shine. woodsmoke incense blooms in the dim warmth, tent lit in amber tree sap glow. a dragon in the comfort of his cavern the young prince reposes, spray of dark lashes narrowed, seduced by the onyx soot of the fire pit. gaze trails the embers that escape, rise & flutter, aglimmer with hope, only to perish & fade into the dark air. a reminiscence of the tragic tale of the dragonpit, the beasts rising in vain, hunted & vanquished so cruelly. eternally. momentary din fissures his respite as glossy black silk of the pavillion is cleft, scarlet flamed pennons flickering without. ( who graces the young dragon with their presence? ) silver-kissed tress gleams bright in the shadow of his hair as he rises, seeks to sate his curiosity ... ( so enters the beloved she-dragon of the brood. ) sentimental he hearkens to his precious sister, blinks a soft welcome. dignity may shroud lithe shoulders but fondness swells within his breast at her familiarity. rhaella, a tiptoe swirl of skirts & grace, her demure voice lilting sweet as a songbird. yet at mention of the tilt valarr's jawbone clenches, a subtle wounded twitch. for the siblings are not fools, the twain aware the elder inherited little of their father's fabled prowess with sword & lance ... even less is he granted precious chance to prove himself through hollow victories. ( a fair knight, but no more than that, whispers the realm ) whilst aerion is left to break lances against only the finest. can the young prince look forward to his orchestrated show? he can certainly uphold his duty, father's wishes. his kin's faith. ❛ i shall endeavour not to disappoint you, rhae. ❜ restraint laces his cadence, words weighted as the scaled eggs that once lay like burnished stars in the cradles of their ancestors. ❛ though if the seven prove contrary, you must promise to still smile when i return. ❜ he would fain face a dozen lances than endure his sister's sorrow. cupid's bow cusps a gentle smile, askant gaze lifts from the blessed steel in her fair hands, tempted back to the unyielding lick of wild flames at the heart of the interior. ❛ do you ever wonder ... ❜ inherited eyes of their father return to hers once more, notice the melancholy that colours the violets, purest of their lineage. only boyish intrigue sparks evident within his paler eye now, austere demeanour lightening. ❛ ... how different it all would be if we still had dragons ? ❜

@valourr  sent  [ SENDER   PLACES   THEIR   HEAD   IN   RECEIVER’S   LAP  ♡ ]

nestled  together  under  the  shade  of  a  mighty  oak  tree,  the  twain  bask.  cold  morning  pearled  dew,  strewn  upon  verdant  blades  of  grass  before  the  dawn’s  blessing  awashed  everything,  kisses  upon  their  ankles,  clinging  to  their  vesture.

new  solace  have  her  hands  found,  running  through  her  darling's  his  strands  of  raven  and  that  touch  of  ashen.  her  fingertips  graze  the  heat  of  his  scalp  tenderly.  doe's  gaze  (  wide,  akin  to  a  fawn’s,  unguarded  )  ,  devoid  of  any  storms,  any  jagged  fringe──────now  mellowed  into  an  endeared  caress,  dragging  it  across  his  temple  and  the  spot  where  his  brow  creased  ever  so  often.  in  shared  tranquility,  she  cradled  his  head  upon  her  lap.  he  bears  the  quiet  of  deep  woods,  and  she,  the  rustle  of  its  trees.

his  tresses,  streaked  with  a  touch  of  starlight,  with  a  kiss  from  the  mother,  with  a  gift  of  a  swan's  feather──────the  twitch  of  her  fingers  from  their  first  encounter,  finally  had  its  salve.

❝  comfortable?  ❞  she  lets  fall  in  quiet  mirth,  subdued  towards  its  end.  her  palm  takes  leave  of  it's  duties  to  brush  at  his  cheek,  fond  knuckle  ridding  it  of  nothing,  satisfying  her  yearning  selfish  heart,  letting  her  touch  linger  for  moments  longer.

𝓉he  𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑟𝑢𝑠  of  her  touch.    a lullaby sung through tresses,  delicate ﹠ soothing.  here amid the roots of their secret leaf-laden bower,  in roseate - lidded slumber,  the soft lull of his chest.   [ ... ]    early  light  dances  through  lyre  string  branches  bent  reverent  above,   dapples  lucent  water,   a vast opaque dragon sleeping beside the pair.    water  mint  cushions  their  bed,   speckled  by  petals  of  wood  anenome,   tussocks  of  wild  chamomile  verdant ﹠ gilt  as  she.    &  oh,  the  delightful  illusion  taste  of  freedom.    ( how  once more the  young  prince  yearns  ever  to  remain )