archamion reblogged
The cloak of House Targaryen was heavy in his hands, a black weight of duty and history, of songs he did not fully understand. He draped it over her shoulders, the dragon of red and black settling over the sun of orange and gold. Fire and heat. Ash and ruin. (excerpt from wax wings)
my version of rhaegar and elia's wedding—a little mix of westerosi, dornish and valyrian customs ♡