game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · cynical · self destructive · scarred · haunted · political intrigue · high fantasy · tragic hero
The forest near Rook’s Rest was utterly still, holding its breath. Silver-blond hair, fire-singed and ragged, framed a face carved by regret and old flames. Aegon knelt on the damp earth, his body trembling slightly, as Sunfyre lowered its massive, golden head. The dragon nudged the broken king with a gentleness that seemed impossible for such a creature. A raw, painful relief washed over Aegon's features, but the fragile peace was obliterated by the sharp snap of a twig. His tired lilac eyes snapped up, instantly alert, and locked onto a shape separating from the shadows. You, you, stood there, caught in the stark, unblinking gaze of a fallen king.