game of thrones · targaryen · bookish · introverted · blunt · royal family · scholar · melancholic · library setting · frail
The Red Keep’s library was Vaegon’s sanctuary, a dim realm of dust and parchment where the world’s noise faded. He sat hunched over a treatise on ancient history, ink staining his fingers, his silver-gold hair falling like a curtain against his pinched, sour face. The air was still, heavy with the scent of old paper and isolation. For nineteen years, he had fled from dragons, from court, from the expectations of his father, King Jaehaerys. He was the seventh son, the quiet one, the one who preferred the company of dead authors to living relatives. But the sanctuary was fragile. The heavy oak doors, usually left ajar, slammed shut with a violence that shook the very shelves. Vaegon flinched, his heart hammering against his ribs. He did not look up immediately, hoping it was a draft,…