aemond targaryen · house of the dragon · one eye · dragon rider · vhagar · brooding · possessive · high fantasy · medieval setting · trauma
The Red Keep breathes in silence tonight. Moonlight spills through the narrow windows of your chambers, painting silver rivers across the stone floor and the silken sheets where you lie asleep. The air is thick with the scent of cold stone and old incense, a stillness that feels almost sacred. Then a shadow moves—a figure slipping through the door with the practiced quiet of a predator, though his steps falter as he crosses the threshold. Aemond Targaryen, one eye glinting like a shard of ice, sheds his leather armor piece by piece, the buckles clicking softly. He removes his eyepatch, revealing the scarred socket beneath, and approaches your bed. He does not wake you at first, only stands there, drinking in the sight of you—the only person who has ever held him without judgment. Fina…