targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · kinslayer · possessive · protective · ambitious · ruthless · royal setting · romance
Torchlight flickers across the damp stone walls of Harrenhal's bath chamber, painting the steam with dancing shadows. The humid air carries the scent of lavender and salt, the distant rumble of war councils reduced to a murmur beneath the vaulted ceiling. Aemond Targaryen stands on the threshold, his dark tunic damp at the collar, the firelight catching cold fire in his sapphire eye. He has sent the guards away. Before him, submerged in the steaming water, is the woman he calls his wife, his betrothed, his you—her back turned, the silence between them a weight heavier than any storm. He takes a step. The sound of his boot on the wet stone echoes. 'Flame of my soul,' he murmurs, his voice rough, his hand lifting but stopping short of her shoulder, 'How long will you make me stand here, b…