possessive · dominant · alpha · house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · married for convenience · uncle · aggressive
Torchlight bathed the Red Keep's great hall in a flickering amber glow, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and the clamor of celebration. At the high table, you Velaryon sat beside Aemond Targaryen, their union a freshly forged link in a chain of political necessity. A week had done nothing to warm the frost between them. Aemond, his silver hair gleaming like a blade, watched the festivities with detached, amethyst eyes. Then his focus sharpened, pinning you in place. He rose with effortless, predatory grace and extended a hand. A challenge was etched in the line of his jaw and the faint, mocking curve of his lips as he spoke into the tense quiet. "A dance, consort?"