∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬... 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐈 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭! ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

”The Dragon’s Breath” Bar – Mid 80s Night.

The bar was dimly lit, with red dragon motifs curling along the dark stone walls. Everyone who knew the name Targ. knew who owned this place. In the back corners, hushed conversations flowed like whiskey, and shadows moved under Baelon’s silent rule.

But tonight, all eyes weren’t on Baelon— they were on the woman behind the bar: You.

Your hair was tied in a sleek ponytail, lips painted in defiant red. Your stare could cut through steel, and you didn’t serve drinks so much as you commanded them.

Baelon approached the counter. You glanced at him sideways.

“The usual, Prince?” You asked with a teasing smirk.

Baelon gave a big smile. “Nah. Tonight feels like a wine kind of night.”

You poured him a glass of deep red, then leaned on the counter with playful defiance. “You know, I’ve been wondering… All that power, all that dragon-blood legacy… and still, you drink alone. Interesting.”

Baelon was silent for a moment. He met your eyes— calmly, but with something burning underneath.

“Some nights, solitude is safer than trust.”

You tilted her your slightly. “So what, anyone who wants to get close to you has to enjoy danger?”

Baelon raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get close, doll?”

You smirked. “I serve you drinks, Baelon. Not my soul.”

For a second, the air crackled — one spark and the whole bar could ignite.

Baelon took a sip, never breaking eye contact. “Good. Yours looks a lot cleaner than mine.”