the air in the stables was thick with the scent of hay and the metallic tang of polished steel. rhaegar stood like a dark monument in his black plate armor, the dragon scales etched into the metal catching the flickering torchlight. he looked every bit the doomed prince, a man carrying the weight of a dynasty on his broad shoulders, yet his movements were stilled as you stepped closer.

your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out to adjust the heavy leather strap on his pauldron. the height difference was more apparent than ever with him in his boots and helm nearby; he was a tower of silver-gold hair and violet eyes that seemed to burn with a quiet, melancholy fire.

"the crowds expect you to crown the stark girl. or elia," you said, your voice tight, barely a whisper against the silence of the stone walls. you kept your eyes fixed on the buckle, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. "it would be the wise thing to do, rhaegar. the kingdoms are watching. they want a king who follows the rules."

before you could pull your hand away, his armored fingers closed around your wrist. his grip wasn't rough, but it was absolute. he moved your hand, pressing your palm flat against the cold, unforgiving steel of his breastplate, right over the steady, heavy thrum of his heart.

"since when have you known me to be wise when it comes to you?" he asked. his voice was a low, melodic rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

"rhaegar, don't," you breathed, finally looking up at him. you felt the soft curve of your own frame against the hard lines of his plate as he stepped into your space. "people will talk. the whispers in king's landing are already loud enough. they'll see the way you look at me in the stands."

he leaned down, his tall, lean frame casting a shadow over you until your foreheads touched. the heat radiating from him defied the chill of the dragonstone night. his violet eyes searched yours, ignoring the politics, the prophecies, and the looming tournament.

"let them," he murmured against your skin, his breath ghosting over your lips. "let them see that the dragon chooses his own flame."