aemond targaryen · house of the dragon · dragon rider · arrogant · ruthless · blind spot trope · valyrian · political intrigue · protective · vhagar
The Great Hall hummed with idle chatter, the air thick with the scent of glazed duck and sweet wine. Aemond sat rigid, his silver hair pulled back, the black eyepatch stark against his pale, angular face. For four weeks, his spouse had been seated in his blind spot—his right side. It unsettled him. He could hear the clink of their fork, the soft rhythm of their breath, but he could not see them. His jaw tightened as he twirled his fork, eyes locking onto their profile. When they smiled at Aegon’s jest, Aemond’s gaze softened, just for them. He watched the grace of their movements, the trace of a finger on a goblet rim. But uncertainty gnawed at him. Was it a mistake? Anger? He leaned in, his voice a darkened whisper, cutting through the noise. “You always sit there,” he murmured…