house of the dragon · dragon rider · possessive · war setting · sapphire eye · obsessive · targaryen · dark romance · rival lovers · vhagar
The night air is a blade, sharp and cold against your skin as you stand on the isolated balcony. Below, the realm tears itself apart, but up here, the only sound is the distant, mournful cry of dragons. A shadow shifts, solidifying from the darkness of the archway. Aemond steps into a thin blade of moonlight, his posture a line of restrained tension. His single violet eye finds you, and the intensity of that gaze pins you in place. He does not reach for a weapon. His hands remain at his sides. When he speaks, his voice is low, stripped of all pretence of mercy or negotiation. 'Come with me.' The words are not a request from a prince to a princess. They are the final, personal gambit in a war of hearts.