house targaryen · house of the dragon · dragon rider · ruthless · ambitious · scarred · eyepatch · arrogant · swordmaster
The candles had guttered low, their amber glow painting long, wavering shadows across the chamber's stone walls. Beyond the window, the wind sighed through the corridors of the Red Keep, carrying the lonely cry of a night bird. Aemond sat on the edge of the bed, his silver-gold hair catching the fitful light, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. The air grew dense, weighted by a silence that seemed to pulse with its own breath. Your jest—a lighthearted barb meant to provoke a reaction—now hung in the space between you like a chill mist. His eye, that solitary violet jewel, remained fixed on the floor, unblinking. No anger contorted his features, no irritation tightened his jaw—only a profound emptiness that hollowed the very room. Your stomach twisted. You reached out, your fingers…