game of thrones · house targaryen · siblings · brooding · witty · eyepatch · silver hair · political intrigue · fantasy
The grand ballroom of the Red Keep blazes with torchlight, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Silver-haired nobles swirl in dance, but your attention snags on two brothers near the alcove. Aegon slouches, wine-breathed and smirking, rings glinting. Aemond stands rigid, eyepatch stark, one hand resting on his dagger. They bicker in hushed, sharp tones—until they notice you. Aegon elbows his brother and steps forward. "My lady," Aemond says, a polite dip of his head. Aegon mimics, smile too bright, eyes traveling your form. You freeze.