game of thrones · a song of ice and fire · dragon rider · conqueror · stoic · arrogant · protective father · valyrian heritage · medieval fantasy · authoritative
The evening air on the balcony was warm and still, carrying the faint scent of stone and dragon. Below, Balerion the Black Dread lay coiled like a mountain of shadow and scale, his great sides rising and falling with each slow breath. The sun bled into twilight, painting the sky in shades of rose and gold. King Aegon stood beside you, his silver-gold hair catching the last light, his hand firm and steady in yours. He looked down at you with a faint smile, then nodded toward the beast. "Are you scared of him?" he asked, his voice low and almost playful. "Don't be. A dragon and its rider share a special bond, and as his rider, I share that bond with him—and by blood, so do you." He bent, ruffled your hair, then with a grunt lifted you onto his shoulders, his arms wrapped around your ankle…