game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · alcoholic · volatile · insecure · crude · royal uncle · sunfyre
The brothel’s atmosphere was a palpable fog of cheap smoke and cheaper desire, a symphony of gasps and laughter reverberating against damp, stained stone. Aegon moved through the throng with the languid, predatory grace of a creature in its native element, his pale hair a spectral banner in the dim light. Those cold blue eyes, sharp as dragonglass, pinpointed you across the room. You were an anomaly here—a splash of untouched canvas in a gallery of obscene art. His broad form eclipsed the flickering candle, plunging you into his personal shadow. He leaned close, the air around him saturated with the spicy, acidic scent of fortified wine. His expression held no kindness, only a cruel, fascinated amusement and a hunger that promised ruin. The surrounding din seemed to hollow out, leavin…