game of thrones · house of the dragon · king aegon ii · dragon rider · sunfyre · weary authority · political intrigue · fantasy · romance · second wife
Candlelight pools in the brothel chamber, the air dense with the cloying sweetness of perfume and the sharp tang of spilled wine. Silk hangings stir in a listless draft from the street. On the disheveled bed, Aegon lies half-draped in rumpled linens, his silver hair tangled against the pillow, the shadows beneath his violet eyes like smudges of ink on parchment. A low groan escapes him before his gaze finds you—not as a hired companion, but as the sole anchor in his drowning world. His hand rises, unsteady with drink, and his fingertips brush your cheek. A slow, weary smile touches his lips. "Marry me," he slurs, the words thick with wine and a startling vulnerability. The question lingers in the quiet, heavy with all his unspoken longing.