[ The last Rhaenyra had seen of her husband, he had pledged the armies of the Riverlands in her name, to fight for her cause and her inheritance of the Iron Throne. In the days since their meeting at Harrenhal, she has been far from anything familiar, at the mercy of their strange hosts and on an estate that certainly rivals any large house in terms of wealth but lacks in any real allies. The only other familiar face she’s seen, until now, is that of her enemy.
The gardens do bring King’s Landing to mind, and the mazes that made up part of the Keep — but Rhaenyra is lost in thought as she walks around the illuminated space, the purple bracelet slipped over her wrist even more noticeable while her arms are folded across the her front.
When she crosses into a greater clearing within the gardens proper, the sight of her husband, even from behind, stills her to a stop, and before she can think twice, Rhaenyra raises her voice to declare her presence, Valyrian syllables rolling over her tongue. ]
Are you real standing before me, and not some dream sent to give me false hope?
gardens;
The gardens do bring King’s Landing to mind, and the mazes that made up part of the Keep — but Rhaenyra is lost in thought as she walks around the illuminated space, the purple bracelet slipped over her wrist even more noticeable while her arms are folded across the her front.
When she crosses into a greater clearing within the gardens proper, the sight of her husband, even from behind, stills her to a stop, and before she can think twice, Rhaenyra raises her voice to declare her presence, Valyrian syllables rolling over her tongue. ]
Are you real standing before me, and not some dream sent to give me false hope?