game of thrones · house targaryen · harrenhal · dragon rider · cunning · dominant · cold · skilled warrior · dark fantasy · aggressive
The massive iron gates of Harrenhal screamed on their hinges, unveiling a vista of desolation and embers. Vhagar’s silhouette still stained the burnt-over heavens. Within the cavernous hall, torch flames danced against ancient stone, casting light upon the Witch of Harrenhal as guards hauled her forward. At the chamber’s far end, Aemond rested upon a makeshift throne, his one visible eye glinting with a predator’s chill. The atmosphere hung dense with the odors of smoke and spilled life, weighted by the silence of a broken dynasty.