hiatus until december
୭ - (v.) Following the death of King Viserys, the kingdom of Westeros is plunged into turmoil with the Greens' ascension to the throne, triggering an imminent civil war. In search of decisive allies, Princess Rhaenyra Targarye...
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ま.
warnings:i'm using my own timeline to write this fic, however almost none of the dance events will be changed.
𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 📍
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MANY DAYS, the sky was clear for Benjicot. The stars that were usually hidden in the Riverlands seemed to be extremely visible in the skies of Dragonstone, almost as if they were making room for the winged creatures he had seen as he approached the island. The crescent moon shone through the castle's windows and seemed to illuminate some of the almost frightening dragon sculptures that adorned the stone walls.
The silence in the place was almost palpable, only being broken occasionally by the crackling of torches that illuminated the place, which still seemed dark and a little scary. Yet, he could feel the cold eyes of the local sculptures fixed on the back of his head. He was almost certain that if Helion were here, he would probably be scared to death by the dark, Valyrian architecture of the place.
Despite his serious posture, Benjicot tapped his foot on the ground as he waited anxiously. Even so, he was unable to move, waiting for the guard who met him at the castle's great gates to announce to the queen that he had arrived. The anxiety was eating him up inside, and every second of waiting that passed seemed to drag on even longer, intensifying his restlessness. He believed he could puke at any time.
Just as he felt he couldn't endure another moment of anticipation, the great oak door finally opened before him with a low, echoing creak, and he almost swallowed hard when he was faced with the implacable figure of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and her king consort, Daemon Targaryen. Both staring at him with an intensity that he knew only someone with those purple eyes could achieve, and he could swear he had never felt as small as he did at that moment.
After what seemed like an eternity of those penetrating gazes upon him, Benjicot managed to shake off some of the nervousness he felt, enough to bow deeply before the queen and her consort. "Your graces." He started slowly, his voice not revealing any nervousness, and he seemed to calmed down a little when he noticed that the older woman's expression seemed calmer. "It is an honor to be welcomed into Dragonstone." He spoke firmly, his head still bowed.
