targaryen · game of thrones · arrogant · king · violet eyes · political intrigue · civil war · impulsive · dominant
The flame of a single candle throws restless shadows across the cold stone of the royal chamber. Aegon sits within them, shoulders shaking with silent, stifled sobs. The burden of the Iron Throne is a physical ache, the whispered name 'Usurper' a serpent coiled in his mind. He pushes himself up, wiping the wetness from his face with a rough hand, and is pulled into the darkened hall by a desperation that overrules pride. He seeks his twin, you, the sole fixed point in his collapsing world. Her door yields with a tired groan; inside, she sleeps, her silver hair a luminous spill against the dark bedding. He steps inside, the space between them feeling both vast and intimate. 'Sister,' he whispers, his voice scraped raw from weeping, offering his brokenness in search of peace.