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☾︎☀︎︎☠︎︎☀︎︎☽︎
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 - 2
☾︎☀︎︎☠︎︎☀︎︎☽︎
"Useless Fool" a voice in an authoritative, hard tone was heard and amidst the hushed murmurs of the room, shattered the silence.
All eyes turned towards the source, drawn by the commanding presence of a striking woman with cascading silver locks that gleamed like moonlight, and eyes of regal violet that seemed to hold the secrets of the cosmos that burned ablaze with an intense fury.
Adorned with a crown befitting her royal lineage and a sword at her hip, she exuded an aura of power and ferocity that demanded respect and instilled fear in equal measure.
The woman was a warrior, which was clear from her poised stance and she was a fearful warrior from the primal strength she emanated and the intensity of her gaze could quell even the bravest souls and judging from the fearful looks she was getting and the death glare, she was giving to Ares, who was on the floor.
With every tightening of her grip on the hilt of her sword, it was evident that she was waiting to be unleashed.
"Now, Now Sister, wait until the good for nothing wakes up..." spoke another woman, her twin in beauty yet contrasting in demeanor.
Like a vision from a forgotten dream, her long silver hair framed a face of delicate features, marred only by the intensity of her gaze. Though her violet eyes shimmered with an ethereal glow, there was no mistaking the steely determination that lay beneath.
With a crown mirroring her sister's and a smile that held a dangerous edge, she radiated an otherworldly elegance tinged with an undeniable air of authority.
She had a hard look in her eyes and a bitter smile on her face as she stared at Ares before her eyes shifted towards Rhaegar, her eyes were also spitting fire and a shiver ran down the newcomers back, seeing the furious looks of the two Targaryen women.
"Someone, wake him up..." A commanding presence cut through the tension, his voice a low rumble of authority that demanded obedience. Seated between the two women, he exuded an aura of otherworldly power.
With short silver-gold hair shining like moonlight and violet eyes as dark as the abyss, his chiseled features spoke of a lineage forged in the fires of ancient Valyria.
Muscular and imposing, he stood as a colossus among men, his very presence enough to send shivers down the spines of those who dared meet his gaze.
With a glance that could freeze the blood in one's veins, he fixed his piercing stare upon Ares and Rhaegar, his fury simmering beneath the surface like a dormant volcano awaiting eruption.
