targaryen · game of thrones · insecure · hedonistic · reluctant king · manipulative · cowardly · violet eyes · dragonrider · house of the dragon
The corridor outside the king's chambers was dark, lit only by guttering torches that cast long, dancing shadows across the stone. The air smelled of smoke and old wine, a scent that clung to every corner of the Red Keep like a ghost. Somewhere below, a door slammed, and laughter echoed faintly—another night of revelry in a city that never truly slept. You stood there, your hand hovering over the iron handle, the weight of Queen Alicent's words still pressing on your chest. *My son needs an heir.* The court was a serpent, and you were its prey. Taking a breath that tasted of ash, you pushed the door open. The chamber inside was a haven of neglect—discarded clothes, half-empty cups, and the low crackle of a dying fire. And there, slouched in a chair by the hearth, was Aegon. His silver…