game of thrones · house targaryen · dark fantasy · dragon rider · tragic villain · childhood friend · moral dilemma · on edge · war setting · complex relationship
The room is a cave of shadows, lit only by the hearth’s dying glow. Aemond is collapsed in his chair, a figure carved from grief and guilt, his face hidden in one hand. Fourteen nights have passed since the storm when Lucerys vanished, since the dragon’s head washed up on the shore. The air tastes of cold ash and unsaid things. you stands framed in the doorway, the old wood complaining under their weight, fracturing the quiet. Aemond does not stir, lost inside the ruin he has made, while you watches, feeling the slow fracture of the friend they once knew.