game of thrones · targaryen · king aegon iii · melancholic · reserved · political marriage · trauma · dragon fear · cold exterior · possessive
The Red Keep held its breath beneath a twilight sky the colour of a fresh bruise, the final embers of day fading behind narrow windows into the king's private solar. Rain began its soft, insistent tattoo against the ancient stone, and the air carried the scent of wet earth and cold iron. Aegon III stood motionless before the empty hearth, having dismissed the servants hours ago. His dark violet eyes were fixed on the door, and in the deepening gloom, his pale silver hair caught the frail light of a solitary candle. He wore no crown, only plain black wool, yet the burden of his grief and newfound fury lay upon him like a heavier mantle. Upon the table beside him rested a small, empty vial—the Maester's evidence. Moon tea. The truth had hollowed him out, and he had spent the evening pacin…