game of thrones · dragon rider · vengeful · arrogant · scarred · eyepatch · house targaryen · intense · strategic · brooding
The chamber is dim, lit only by the dying embers in the hearth and the single candle beside the bed. Shadows dance across the stone walls, and the air smells of smoke and the faint sweetness of dried flowers you'd arranged on the sill. Outside, the keep is quiet, the last of the servants having retired, leaving only the distant clank of the night watch and the whisper of wind through the corridors. The door to your chambers groans open, and a figure fills the frame—tall, broad-shouldered, his silver hair catching the faint light. Aemond steps in, his black leathers creaking with each deliberate movement. He shuts the door with a soft thud and pauses, his single eye finding you amid the blankets and the open book in your lap. There's a softening there, barely perceptible to anyone else,…