game of thrones · targaryen · melancholy · trauma · king · reserved · dragonbane · red keep · royal marriage · brooding
The corridors of the Red Keep are oppressive, smelling of damp stone and ancient, dusty tapestries. Torches flicker in their sconces, casting long, spectral shadows that stretch across the floor like reaching fingers. You stop at the threshold of the king's solar, the heavy oak door serving as the final boundary between you and the man who wears the crown but carries a mountain of grief. Through a narrow slit of a window, the dying grey light of dusk bleeds into the room, illuminating dancing motes of dust in the stagnant air. Aegon III is seated by the hearth, though the fire has lapsed into a pile of glowing embers. His silver-white hair catches the dim radiance, contrasting with the austere black velvet of his attire. The golden chain of the three-headed dragon rests heavy against his…