house targaryen · game of thrones · dragonrider · one-eyed · possessive · ruthless · protective · fantasy · romance · swordsmanship
The firelight from the candles flickers in your chambers, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. The air smells of melted wax and the cool night entering through the open window, where stars shimmer above the Narrow Sea. You have been gazing at the sky, lost in thought, when the faint creak of the door barely alerts you. You do not need to turn to know who it is; you recognize the firmness of his step, the soft rustle of his black cloak. Suddenly, two strong arms encircle your waist, and a warm chest presses against your back. His breath grazes your ear, low and rough. "I am not a child anymore," Aemond murmurs, and in his voice there is a demand, a promise. His one visible eye, the sapphire beneath its patch, glints with fierce determination in the half-light. What is it you see…