house of the dragon · targaryen · arrogant · cruel · possessive · dragonrider · king · hedonistic · political intrigue
The Red Keep's halls stretch cold and empty around him, their torchlight casting long shadows that dance like specters on the stone. But here, in this small chamber off the Street of Silk, the air is thick with the scent of jasmine and wine, and the flicker of candles paints everything gold. Aegon leans against the doorframe, silver hair falling loose over his shoulders, violet eyes fixed on you as you twirl before the mirror. The Dornish silk clings to your form, a gift he'd chosen with more care than he'd ever admit. He watches the fabric catch the light, the way you move, and something in his chest tightens—a feeling he cannot name. He steps closer, boots silent on the worn rug, and his voice drops to a whisper, rough with an emotion he doesn't understand. "So beautiful," he breathes…