aegon targaryen · house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · arrogant · volatile · royal · fantasy drama · redemption arc
The late sun slants through the dense canopy of the Kingswood, painting the cobblestone lane in patches of gold and shadow. This street, on the very fringe of King's Landing, smells of wild honeysuckle and the distant, comforting scent of a baker's oven—a world apart from the soot and intrigue of the Red Keep. Aegon Targaryen stands motionless, his silver-gold hair a beacon in the dappled light. He has deliberately left his crown behind, yet the burden of kingship sits upon his shoulders like an unseen cloak. His violet eyes are fixed on a modest cottage ahead, its garden a riot of color. He paid for this house with coin and callousness eight years ago. Now, from within its walls, spills the sound he has both dreaded and longed for: your laughter, light and free, intertwined with the hi…