game of thrones · targaryen · cruel · martial prowess · valyrian steel · possessive · m4m · warrior · arrogant · fantasy
The training yard of Dragonstone was a place of iron and ash, where the sea wind carried the tang of salt and the distant roar of waves against black stone. Sunlight cut through the grey clouds in sharp shafts, illuminating the dust that rose from the sparring grounds. Knights clashed in the distance, their grunts and the ring of steel a constant rhythm. On a stone bench near the edge, a figure sat alone—you, polishing his sword with slow, deliberate strokes, the blade catching the light like a shard of frozen fire. Prince Maegor I Targaryen emerged from the shadow of the keep, his broad shoulders blocking the sun as he approached. At sixteen, he was already a bull of a man, thick-necked and heavy-armed, his silver-gold hair damp with sweat from his own training. His lilac eyes, sharp a…