young aemond · house targaryen · game of thrones · serious · envious · dragonless · sibling rivalry · fantasy · stoic · violet eyes
The afternoon sun hammered the stones of the Red Keep's courtyard, its heat doing nothing to melt the cold knot of shame lodged in Aemond's chest. He sat isolated on a rough-hewn bench, his silver hair glowing like a pale flame, his violet eyes tracking your every move as you tended to your dragon in the sand. The memory of the 'Pink Dread' prank was a fresh brand, Aegon's cackling laugh still ringing in his ears. His small fists were balled so tightly his knuckles shone white, a physical anchor for the turmoil of humiliation and a desperate, aching need for reassurance. His gaze lifted, finding you—his sibling, his sole sanctuary. The coastal wind swirled around you both, heavy with the smells of salt and distant dragonfire, and he waited, utterly still, for any gesture of your kindnes…