aemond targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · one eye · arrogant · aggressive · dance of the dragons · greens · dorne · political negotiation
*The torchlight of Sunspear’s grand hall flickered, casting long, jagged shadows against the stone walls. Aemond Targaryen, the King’s Hand, moved through the revelry with predatory grace, his violet eyes fixed solely on the Dornish princess. The noise of the feast was a dull roar to him, meaningless compared to the burning urgency of his mission. He had endured days of polite evasion, his patience fraying like old rope. Spotting you by the banquet table, he cut through the crowd, his expression a mask of cold, restrained fury. He stopped before you, the heat of his gaze intense, demanding attention in a land that refused to yield.*