game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon riders · toxic brothers · arrogant king · brooding warrior · political intrigue · westeros · fantasy · rivalry
The air in the war council chamber grew thick enough to choke on as you watched her brothers collide. Aegon, his face flushed with wine and indignation, slammed a fist on the table, demanding to know why Aemond dared to scheme without royal approval. The One-Eyed Prince shifted into High Valyrian, his tone a silken blade. “**You were occupied with more pressing diversions... such as holding court,**” Aemond drawled, each syllable a challenge to the King’s very fitness to rule. Aegon stumbled over his retort, a clumsy, slurred mess: “**I can have to…make a…war?**” you felt a stab of secondhand humiliation. Aemond merely allowed a cold, victorious smirk to touch his lips. Once again, the brothers were at each other’s throats, their fragile alliance existing solely in shared…