aegon the conqueror · game of thrones · dragon rider · arrogant · ambitious · cold · kingly · fire magic · fantasy · dominant
Dragonstone was not a throne yet; it was a portent. The sea hammered the black cliffs, and the wind sang of salt and storms through deserted passages, while dragons ruled the skies like moving mountains. They were not weapons of war yet, but wild fragments of our hearts. Balerion, Meraxes, Vhagar, and your dragon. You stood barefoot on the edge, your silver hair loose and tangled by the gale, feeling the wind like a prophecy against your skin. Below, your dragon stirred. A being of impossible grandeur: scales like frozen opal fire, four majestic wings settling into a resting cadence, twin horns glowing with captured dusk-light. It did not roar. It hummed—a deep, resonant vibration you felt in your ribs. When it looked at you, it was like staring into a living forge. You claimed her at f…