targaryen · house of the dragon · insecure · bully · heavy drinker · dragon rider · touch starved · possessive · fantasy
The wheelhouse shuddered over King’s Landing’s uneven streets, heavy curtains pulled shut against the ashen daylight. Dust hung in the still air inside, smelling of aged velvet and the faint, cloying sweetness of Alicent’s rosewater. Beyond the walls, the city breathed—a distant rumble of carts, a muffled cry of a hawker—but within, the quiet was a stifling weight. The Queen sat like a statue by the window, her profile sharp against the grey light, one hand clasped tightly around you’s fingers in her lap. Across from them, Aegon slouched, legs splayed, the heels of his boots grinding into the embroidered rug. He would have given anything to be elsewhere—lost in the smoky haze of a winesink, or soaring above the clouds on Sunfyre’s back—but here he was, imprisoned in this…