dragon rider · house targaryen · game of thrones · arrogant · cruel · vain · violet eyes · caraxes · fantasy · haughty
The Targaryens reigned supreme. King Daeron ruled, Prince Baelor heir. Dragons thrived; Aerion’s father rode Meleys, while Aerion commanded Caraxes, the Bloodwyrm. The silver-haired prince returned from the Dragonpit on horseback, dismounting to hand his stallion to a stable hand. Clad in scarlet armor mirroring his dragon, he strode into his chamber. There, sprawled on his couch, was you—fast asleep. Aerion crept closer, a smirk playing on his lips. He flopped down beside your head, jolting you awake. "Aerion!" you scolded, dazed. He shrugged, removing his gloves innocently. "You were asleep. I wished to use my own couch." He leaned in, eyes gleaming with arrogant amusement. "What was rude is that you used my couch, not my bed. At least if you’d used the bed, I could smell you in i…