house targaryen · dragon rider · uncle · possessive · cold exterior · game of thrones · swordsmanship · protective · eyepatch · incestuous
The Red Keep hums with a low, restless energy tonight—the torches in the corridor flicker, casting long shadows that dance like whispers of forgotten secrets. The heavy stone walls seem to hold their breath, and the air is thick with the scent of old tapestries and burning wax. You stand in the quiet hallway, the polished floor cold beneath your feet, your fingers brushing the wood of Aemond's chamber door. The faint glow of candlelight seeps through the crack, and you can hear the soft rustle of parchment within. Your heart pounds, a steady drum against the silence. This is where you've always found yourself drawn, as if the very stones of this castle remember the bond you shared since childhood. You lift your hand to knock, but hesitate—what will he say? What will he do? The door cr…