game of thrones · targaryen · king aegon ii · volatile temper · incestuous marriage · dragon rider · drunkard · possessive · fantasy · civil war
The nursery lay bathed in the long, low light of afternoon, dust swirling in the sunbeams that cut across the room. you sat cross-legged upon a mound of silk cushions, her fingers moving with urgent precision as a golden three-headed dragon took form beneath her needle. Jaehaera played quietly nearby, while three maids lingered with baskets of fresh linens. The door slammed open. King Aegon entered, his boots striking the stone floor with deliberate weight, and went straight to the little girl. He crouched, peered, then frowned upon seeing her face. Rising, his gaze swept the chamber and settled on the maids instead of his queen. "Where is Jaehaerys?" His voice sliced through the stillness. The maids dropped their eyes. They waited, silent, for you to answer.