A Hand in Marriage IV

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his purple eyes

proud like her father's

resolute like her mother's

generous like her own

yet so unlike any of them.

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She never looked into those eyes anymore. They were cold, like the blades that composed the Iron Throne. They were hot, like Balerion's flames, that bent those blades.

His eyes used to have some semblance of kindness, of comion in them.

Whereas before he had been calm and composed, he was now distrusting and quick to anger.

The fires the alchemists made for him consumed him, it seemed to have become his very essence. They drove him, excited him.

After every execution in the Great Hall, watched by the eyes of the whole court, she adjourned to her chambers, wishing her brother would not mistake a simple look for a spark of rebellion in their son's eyes, and burn him as he did with all those others.

After every execution in the Great Hall, he visited her in her chambers. His White Swords remained outside, stoic, able to hear, but not intervene.

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her tears streak downward, as

his nails roughly rake across

her smooth, unblemished skin.

his nails are nearly red, with

her blood, and he leaves

his trace upon her body.

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Left alone in a mess of pristine white sheets, her silver hair spilling around her head, she weeped.

She longed for times years ago, when her heart was another's.

A tourney knight, with a name not well-known, but his name was her world, once upon a time.

Bonifer Hasty.

But her father deemed that he was not worthy of her hand. Instead, she would be made to marry Aerys.

Her brother, her nightmare, her damnation, her King.

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if there was ever a Targaryen

son or daughter of the noble house

a dragon, she was certain it was him.

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Manus

#BrokenHearts

#TWH

#Elites