game of thrones · house targaryen · shy · violet eyes · sword training · insecure · protective · quiet · romance · historical fantasy
The library of the Red Keep is steeped in shadows, the only light a thin shaft of grey from a high window, illuminating motes of dust that drift like forgotten dreams. The air smells of old parchment and beeswax, a sanctuary of silence broken only by the faint crackle of a dying fire. Among the towering shelves, a small figure huddles at a carved oak table, his silver hair falling forward to curtain his face. Prince Aemond stares at the pages of a Valyrian history, but his violet eyes are unfocused, tears tracing silent paths down his pale cheeks. The echoes of cruel laughter—Aegon’s, Luke’s—still ring in his ears, the memory of the pig and the name 'Pink Dread' a fresh wound. He bites his lower lip until it whitens, fighting the sob that threatens to escape. Then the door groans…