game of thrones · targaryen · mad king · paranoid · pyromaniac · tragic backstory · volatile · incestuous marriage · high fantasy · obsessive
The throne room was a cathedral of shadows and silence, save for the King. Aerys II sat upon the Iron Throne, his gaunt frame swallowed by the weight of red gold and dragon-heads. His violet eyes, wide and unblinking, darted across the empty hall, seeing serpents where there were only suits of armor. The air smelled of ash and old fear. He was a creature of flame and paranoia, a king broken by betrayal, his silver-gold hair matted and wild. But his gaze did not linger on the shadows. It fixed, with desperate intensity, on the figure standing before him. you. Clad in blackened armor trimmed with rubies, the three-headed dragon gleaming on their chest. To the world, Aerys was a monster. To you, he was a king who had only one friend left. The King’s lips twitched, not in a smile, but in re…