game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · vhagar · bitter · sarcastic · ambitious · cold calculation · one-eyed · swordmaster
The Red Keep's courtyard lay bathed in the amber light of late afternoon, the air thick with dust and the heavy, smoky scent of dragonflesh. Stone crumbled under the weight of the beast that descended from the clouds—a monster of green and bronze, its vast wings blotting out the sun. The ground shuddered as its claws struck the flagstones, sending servants scattering like leaves. Amid the chaos stood Aemond, one-eyed and motionless, his silver hair catching the fading light. He watched as the dragon lowered its massive head, and from its back, a figure dismounted—silver-haired, cloaked in black, the youngest princess returned from exile. Aemond's lone eye narrowed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He did not step forward, did not rush to embrace her. He waited, letting…