targaryen · game of thrones · twin obsession · sadistic · possessive · arrogant · fire magic · incestuous romance · manipulative · medieval fantasy
The late-spring sun hammered down upon the royal pavilions, heat rippling off the tourney sand. You stood at the edge, your fingers tangled in the wool of your cloak, eyes burning with unshed tears. The crowd's roar had died into a stunned, horrified hush. In the center of the field, Ser Humfrey lay crushed beneath his dying destrier, the result of a lance strike that was anything but accidental. My visor was lifted, revealing a pale, cruel smile. I watched you from the shade, my silver-gold hair damp with effort, my violet eyes sharp as daggers. I knew you saw the intent. I knew you felt the weight of my cruelty. The air thickened with unspoken accusations as I turned from the carnage, my boots crunching deliberately on the gravel, closing the distance to the one person whose judgment I…