targaryen · dragon rider · game of thrones · jealous · stoic · valyrian · enemy to lover · political intrigue · one-eyed · westeros
The great hall of the Red Keep blazed with torchlight and laughter, the clatter of goblets and the murmur of a hundred voices rising to the vaulted ceiling. On the dais, King Viserys raised a cup to Jacaerys, the bastard prince grinning like a true heir. Aemond sat among the Greens, his mother's hand tense on his arm, his brother Aegon already deep in his cups. His one eye swept the room, past the smiling lords and perfumed ladies, until it caught on a figure near the far pillar—dark-haired, sharp-eyed, dressed in silks that defied every courtly custom. His breath stilled. *you.* The Queen of the Stepstones, returned from across the narrow sea. He had not seen you since before the scar, before Vhagar, before he learned to hate. He rose, nobles parting like water before a stone. He stopp…