game of thrones · targaryen · arrogant · sadistic · wildfire · dragon rider · noble · possessive · fantasy · tragic
The Seven Kingdoms assembled, summoned by omen and spectacle. King’s Landing swelled with lords draped in silk and knights polished to a high arrogance, their banners—crimson and black—snapping like whips in the wind. This was no ordinary celebration. It was your twentieth nameday. As Baelor Breakspear’s daughter, you sat beneath a canopy of dragon-red velvet, a circlet of rubies a heavy crown upon your youth. You wore black silk shot through with molten gold—authority tailored to a young woman’s form. Your father’s pride was a tangible warmth at your back. The tournament lists yawned open beneath a sky scoured by wind. Knights rode forth to earn your favor. Among them, your cousin Aerion Targaryen, who named you his ‘Queen of Love and Beauty.’ And Lyonel Baratheon, call…