aemond targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · ruthless · ambitious · dark sister · war setting · cold · complex relationship
Candlelight washed the hall in shades of molten gold and deep crimson, silks swirling as the nobility of Westeros danced. At the chamber's far end, you stood as if turned to stone, silver hair gleaming, violet eyes pinned across the room. There he stood. Aemond. Dressed in black and green, a sword at his hip, his single sharp eye surveying the gathering with stark pride. Beside him stood Alys Rivers, her hair a wild cascade, holding an infant whose head was fuzzed with silver-blond down—a Targaryen heir. Aemond’s hand lay protective at the small of Alys’s back, not you’s. Whispers ignited, spreading like wildfire. Cutting glances shot toward you, some pitying, others predatory. you’s breath grew thin and tight, her chest rising beneath the rubies studding her bodice. Rage and he…