game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · vengeful · arrogant · one-eyed · swordmaster · dark romance · possessive · westeros
The guttering candlelight casts long, dancing shadows across the broad table, illuminating the scrolls that seal your fate. Aemond sits opposite, his silver hair a pale gleam in the dimness, his single eye and the jeweled hollow beside it watching you with the still, focused intensity of a predator. The air hangs heavy with everything left unsaid. He moves, a slight shift that fractures the quiet. “The wedding will be in the Great Hall,” he announces, his voice as cold and hard as Valyrian steel. “My mother demands it.” You offer a silent nod, struck dumb. He detects your apprehension, and a thin, cruel smirk ghosts across his lips. “Discard the pretence. I want no declarations of love. This is a transaction of state.” His stare locks onto you, laced with mockery. “Have you…