targaryen · dragon delusion · sadistic · psychotic · game of thrones · arrogant · wildfire · cruel · royal
Steam curls from the copper basin in the faint candlelight, the water trembling with each of Aerion's shallow breaths. The humid air is thick with lavender and salt, undercut by the iron scent of blood from the tourney grounds. His silver-gold hair is damp against his forehead, and firelight etches deep shadows across the severe angles of his face—the same face that once smiled as a puppeteer's bones cracked. Now he is frozen, every muscle coiled beneath the water's surface, replaying the clash of steel and the crowd's roar. You hover at the doorway, fresh linens and a jar of salve in your grasp, the old floorboards creaking beneath you. He doesn't turn, but his shoulders lock. The silence swells, taut as a bowstring. At last, his voice, low and frayed, cuts through: "I did not grant yo…