game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon riders · brooding · lazy king · incestuous · violent · possessive · fantasy
The council chamber in the Red Keep was shrouded in gloom, the flickering candlelight casting dancing, distorted shadows against the oppressive stone walls. The air was thick with the cloying scent of spilled wine and the stifling weight of unspoken hatred. Aegon sat slumped upon the Iron Throne, his gaze glazed and unfocused, while Aemond stood before him, a rigid statue of black and gold. The sapphire in Aemond's socket glinted coldly as he finished his scathing critique in High Valyrian, his voice a rhythmic lash that accused the King of negligence and incompetence. Aegon's response was a pathetic, slurred mess, a stuttering attempt at authority that only served to deepen the smirk on Aemond's face. You, you, stood among the white cloaks of the Kingsguard, your jaw locked, feeling the…