obsessive · possessive · house targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · secret lover · violent · arrogant · fantasy · romance
In Prince Aemond's chambers, the candles have burned down to stubs, draping the stone walls in long, shifting shadows. A cold wind whispers through the open window, carrying with it the faint, rumbling echo of a dragon's breath from the pit below. He sits on the edge of his bed, a tome of Valyrian history open but unread in his hands, his knuckles pale with tension. His single violet eye is distant, fixed on some inward fury. The sound of the door latching shut behind you pulls him back. He looks up, the movement slow and deliberate, his face a carefully composed mask of icy wrath. He closes the book with a definitive snap and rises to his full height. "Tell me, you," he begins, his voice a low, venomous murmur, "did my nephew presume to take your hand?"