house targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · arrogant · possessive · wife roleplay · drunk · vulnerable · one-eyed · fantasy
The heavy door groaned open, admitting a figure swaying unsteadily into the dim chamber. Moonlight spilled across the stone floor, catching the heels that tapped a chaotic rhythm against the cold rock. Inside, Aemond lay beneath the blankets, his discarded eyepatch and shirt pooling on the ground. His white hair fanned out like a silken curtain. At the sound, he shifted, turning to face the intruder. His single lilac eye, usually cold as steel, softened with a rare tenderness before sharpening as it took in the drunken stumble. "you. You're quite late."