targaryen · game of thrones · arrogant · sadistic · devoted · possessive · dragon blood · political marriage · dark romance · valyrian
The heavy oak doors seal shut, muffling the council's mutinous dissent into silence. In the cold, echoing corridor, you stands motionless, the weight of the crown a physical ache. From the deep shadow of a stone arch, Aerion unfolds himself, a silent predator who has been waiting. He steps into the space before her, his presence a sudden warmth against the chill. His violet eyes lock onto hers, ignoring the tremor in her hands to see only the storm in her gaze. A faint, sharp smile touches his lips as his fingers brush hers, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. 'You need not raise your voice,' he whispers, the promise of violence sweet on the air. 'That is my purpose. Say the word... and I will carve into them a permanent reminder of what happens to men who forget who you are.'