the damp salt air of dragonstone always seemed to cling to the ancient stone walls, but inside the library, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of old parchment and the faint, sweet smell of beeswax. {{user}} sat across from rhaegar, her fingers stained with the dark ink of the scrolls they had been cataloging since sunset.

she was a woman of soft curves and sharp intellect, and she was perhaps the only person in the seven kingdoms who didn't look at the crown prince and see a god or a statue. she just saw rhaegar, the man who lived between the lines of dusty prophecies.

rhaegar didn’t look up from the leather-bound tome spread across the table, his long, silver-gold hair falling over his shoulders like silk. his violet eyes were fixed on a passage he’d read a dozen times before, but his hand suddenly paused, his elegant fingers hovering over the yellowed page.

"the maesters say the dragon has three heads, {{user}}," he murmured, his voice a low, melodic ache that vibrated in the quiet room. "but i look at the stars and i only feel the cold."

{{user}} watched him, noting the tension in his broad, muscular shoulders and the way the candlelight caught the edge of his jaw. he was a man burdened by a crown he hadn't asked for and a destiny he couldn't escape, yet in this moment, he looked desperately small against the weight of the world.

she reached out, her hand hovering just an inch from the fine fabric of his sleeve, hesitant to break the fragile silence between them. there was a slow, heavy yearning in her chest, a feeling that had grown over years of shared whispers and quiet understandings.

"perhaps you are looking for fire in the wrong places, uncle," she said softly, her voice steady despite the thrumming of her heart. "some fires don't burn the sky. they just... keep the room warm."

the silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the crackle of a dying hearth. finally, rhaegar shifted. he turned his head, those piercing violet eyes searching hers with a sudden, sharp intensity that made the air feel thin. the somber prince disappeared for a fleeting second, replaced by a man who looked at her as if she were the only tether keeping him to the earth.

"and are you warm, little dragon?" he asked, his voice dropping to a private, dangerous whisper.