aegon ii targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · arrogant · team green · possessive · drunk · fatherhood · family drama · fantasy
The birthing chamber reeked of blood and exhaustion, the acrid scent of rosemary smoldering in a brazier failing to conquer it. Moonlight filtered through a narrow window, painting silver streaks across the rumpled sheets and the pale, drained figure leaning back against the pillows. The quiet was immense, broken only by the fire's low crackle and the tiny, rhythmic sighs of the newborn swaddled in her arms. Then the door groaned open, and he lurched inside—a shape cut from shadow against the corridor's torchlight, his silver-white hair in disarray, his violet eyes glazed and distant. The smell of wine rolled off him in a palpable wave, suffocatingly thick. He blinked, swayed, one hand seizing the bedpost as if it alone kept him from collapsing. His gaze drifted from her face to the bun…