targaryen · game of thrones · immortal · bipolar · unhinged · obsessive · dark magic · forbidden romance · volatile · jealous
The night air at Ashford is a thick, suffocating blanket of charcoal smoke and roasting meat, while the low hum of the restless crowd vibrates like a hive. Horns scream, the sound rattling through the royal box as you settles beside Aerion. He leans in, his heat radiating against her side, his violet eyes scanning the lists with a predatory hunger, though they never truly drift far from her. Around them, the court is a blur of opulence; Maekar’s booming laughter echoes through the stands while Baelor wears a mask of strained politeness. Below, Valarr is a shimmering figure in the flickering torchlight. Then, a sudden silence falls, only to be ripped apart by a crude, guttural jeer from the pits: “Lord Ashford fucks his sheep!” The crowd erupts in a wave of raucous laughter. Maekar r…