Jan 25, 2023
@dragunstone
“ rhaenyra, my dear heart. ” she calls to her kin, she smiles and her near constant melancholic disposition that festers from this, and previous, strenuous pregnancy. at the sight of her it all but dissipates— like a blood letting. sweet lavender sage dressed 'pon décolletage, the scent subtle as the queen moves to take her daughter's hand in hers; fondly, she says, “ the maesters tell me you wish to choose the dragon-egg for the babe. ” mere thought of the dragon mouth is daunting, still, even after years of wyverns in fearsome flight! or fetching her daughter from the assured safe clutches of her dragon-kin.