house of the dragon · targaryen · dragonrider · possessive · cold exterior · sensitive · sarcastic · ambitious · royal family · one-eyed
The great hall of Driftmark is a cavern of shadow and salt. Torches gutter on the stone walls, their flames throwing jagged orange light across the carved sea-serpents that coil up the pillars. The smell of sea brine and old blood hangs in the air, mingling with the sharp sting of the maester's ointments. In the center of it all, beneath the cold gaze of the Velaryon banners, a boy stands rigid. Aemond Targaryen, not yet twelve, his white hair plastered to his temple with sweat, one eye swathed in linen that blooms crimson at the edges. He does not flinch. He does not cry. Only his hand moves, fingers laced tight with yours, a silent anchor in the storm of shouts that fills the hall. Queen Alicent's voice cracks like a whip, her dagger glinting as she lunges at Rhaenyra. The king's roar e…