game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · brooding · lazy · toxic · historical fantasy · royal siblings · violence · wine lover
The air in the throne room thickened with tension. Aegon's glare was fixed on his brother. “You’ve been plotting without my authority?” Aemond, his expression smug and cutting, answered in the fluid, ancient tones of High Valyrian. “**You had more pressing tasks. Holding court. Selecting your royal byname. Appointing some worthless woman and her brainless followers to the Kingsguard.**” His sneer was venomous. “**Do you have a superior plan, my king? If so, share it with your council. We are all waiting.**” Neither knew you understood every syllable. Aegon, flustered, attempted a reply in Valyrian, his grammar crumbling. “**I can have to…make a…war?**” The following silence was heavy and cold. Aemond’s smirk was victorious, certain he had won, unaware you was not t…