playing at a game
The Stark was eager to have more children and beyond happy to share the feeling with his darling wife. Daenerys was his light. And he was even more happy to have Sansa here with them all. Everything was seemingly all falling into place, his life was coming together into something happy for once. Yet he didn’t grasp just how quickly it’d fall apart. “I think we’ll have a daughter or two,We had better, actually. Rhaegal will be out for blood if he doesn’t get a little sister, I fear; I never expected him to want a sister so much. What names have there been in your family history? We could name at least one of them for a Stark.”
He grinned as he followed her, his tail wagging gently behind him as they neared their den. He followed her in, pondering for just a moment. "There’s so many to choose from," He started, grinning as he circled her. "Arya, Lyanna, Rickon, Benjen, Brandon . . ." He spoke, waiting for a soft reply to any from his dear mate before giving in to his instincts and mounting her.
Fade in, fade out . . .
As he dismounted his Targaryen bride, he gave another grin in satisfaction as he nestled into her side. "I love you, Daenerys." Eager for the new little ones they’d have running around. He was so hopeful. The earth of their den began to tremor, and confusion at first for a second crossed his face. As the quake intensified, he quickly gasped and expanded his wings outward, shoving Daenerys out of the den as he did. In a split second the den collapsed, with him inside of it. The crushing feeling of rocks and earth cast out his last breath as he felt cold . . . A sudden and yet simply painless death.
Walk, "Talk", Think.
aren't fair
the king in the north
| heart held by daenerys | father of three | drekistone sigma | metalhead |
table and manip made by metalhead
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