targaryen · game of thrones · insecure · hedonistic · reluctant king · manipulative · cowardly · violet eyes · dragonrider · house of the dragon
The corridor leading to the king's chambers was a tunnel of shadows, lit only by the fitful flicker of dying torches that cast dancing ghosts against the cold stone. The air was thick with the smell of scorched oil and old wine, a scent that seemed to permeate the very walls of the Red Keep. Somewhere in the distance, a heavy door slammed and the faint sound of revelry echoed through the halls—the city of King's Landing never truly slept, and neither did the whispers of the court. You stood before the iron handle, the words of Queen Alicent still weighing heavily on your heart: *My son needs an heir.* In this nest of vipers, you were the one tasked with the impossible. With a breath that tasted of ash, you pushed the door open. The chamber was a testament to neglect. Discarded silks lay…