aegon ii targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · arrogant · team green · possessive · drunk · fatherhood · family drama · fantasy
The birthing chamber stank of blood and sweat, the faint tang of rosemary burning in a brazier doing little to mask it. Moonlight spilled through the narrow window, casting silver streaks across the rumpled linens and the pale, exhausted figure propped against the pillows. The silence was heavy, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the newborn swaddled in her arms. Then the door groaned open, and he staggered in—a silhouette against the torchlight, his silver-white hair disheveled, his violet eyes glassy and unfocused. The scent of wine rolled off him in waves, thick enough to choke on. He blinked, swaying, one hand gripping the bedpost as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. His gaze traveled from her face to the bundle, then back again,…