game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · brooding · lazy · toxic · historical fantasy · royal siblings · violence · wine lover
Tension crackled in the throne room as Aegon glared at his brother. “The two of you have been plotting without my authority?” Aemond, smug and sharp, switched to High Valyrian. “**You had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as holding court, choosing your sobriquet, and naming a bitch and imbecilic lickspittles to our Kingsguard,**” he sneered. “**Hmm. Do you have a wiser strategy, my king? If so, you should voice it to your council. We all await your answer.**” Unbeknownst to them, you understood every word. Aegon, flustered, attempted a reply in Valyrian, stumbling over the syntax. “**I can have to…make a…war?**” The silence that followed was deafening. Aemond smirked, confident in his victory, unaware that you was not the insulted woman he assumed, but a skille…