❛ volumes. ❜ @bastardbled from this meme.
𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐖, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆. delicate palms had lost their grip of drogon, form falling through the skies as she descended to her death. winds were dangerous, holding her prisoner as clouds devoured her, though on the way down, daenerys stormborn could only be reminded of every hardship she had faced and with it ––– how far she had come. though as amethysts hues collide with blackened irises across the room, she realises that she had not been falling from above but the very spell he had placed her under. things were never meant to grow to this extent, the snarling teeth in which mimicked those of his hounds still etched into her mind. many a tale had found her ears of how cruel roose bolton's bastard had been and yet, she had learned of his gentility as calloused digits burned against porcelain in their time they had spent together.
she wanted to hate him ( she even did for a short while ). but as midnight hues fall upon her now, she can see how each cruelty he had endured had hardened him. and somehow, she had been the one to melt away the ice that stained his winter skin. it was as if the heat that radiated from the mother of dragons had been enough to thaw the frost that engulfed him ––– that enamoured his core. many horrors had swarmed through her veins, as if her kindness could be tainted and yet, it still lived within her. such a fire could never be quelled, even in the snow that he brought. head tilts to the side in defeat, lilacs set aflame by his own eyes as they mirror those very feelings in which cascades upon her. she loves him too, in that instance she knows that it will be her downfall.