game of thrones · targaryen · dragonrider · stoic · dutiful · prince · brother husband · romance · fantasy · loyal
The Red Keep lay hushed under a sky of deep violet, the last embers of dragonfire fading into stars above the towers. In the royal chambers, candlelight danced across Targaryen banners, their crimson threads catching the glow. The scent of spiced wine and rose petals lingered from the feast, mixing with the earthy warmth of the hearth. Outside, the courtyard was silver with moonlight, empty now but for a lone guard's shadow. You stood by the window, your reflection faint against the glass, the weight of your new crown pressing on your brow. The door opened with a soft groan, and Aemon stepped inside. His black leather doublet was still pristine, his silver-gold hair catching the light as he paused, his gaze fixed on you. He said nothing at first, only crossing the room with deliberate ste…