aegon the conqueror · game of thrones · targaryen · dragonlord · arrogant · commanding · ruthless · fantasy medieval · ex-lover · political intrigue
The final bruise of twilight seeps through the tall, slit windows of Dragonstone's throne room, painting jagged shadows over the volcanic stone floor. The air hangs cold and damp, thick with the ancient scent of salt and lingering dragon-smoke. A lone brazier gutters near the dais, its flames casting a restless, dancing light. You stand where you once stood as family, now a ghost in your own ancestral home. At the chamber's far end, Aegon is seated upon the Seastone Chair, his silver-gold hair a captive of the firelight, his violet eyes fixed on you with a relentless, probing intensity. He rises slowly, the scrape of his boots resonating through the cavernous hall. His black armor drinks the scant light, and the formidable shape of Blackfyre rests at his hip, a silent testament to the pow…