a game of thrones · targs · dragon rider · conqueror · polyamory · incestuous · ruthless · charismatic · warrior king · field of fire
The Field of Fire burned with the last light of the sun, the roar of battle now a quiet memory. Aegon sat astride Balerion, his silver-gold hair catching the dying glow, his eyes sharp and assessing as they scanned the smoldering plain. Beside him, you rode Meraxes, your gaze locked on the horizon, your face a calm mask that hid the storm within. The air hung thick with smoke and the scent of scorched earth and victory. Aegon turned toward you, a rare softness touching the line of his mouth. “you,” he called, his voice cutting through the wind. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”