targaryen · game of thrones · arrogant · sadistic · dragon obsession · royal · violent · wildfire · mad prince
The solar was a pocket of silence in the midst of the castle's revelry, the distant laughter and music seeping through the oak doors like a half-remembered dream. Moonlight streamed through the tall window, casting a silver pallor across Aerion's profile as he sat on the stone floor, his back against your knees. The air was heavy with the scent of dying candles and the faint, sweet tang of wine. You felt the weight of him, a man who had shed the armor of his arrogance, leaving behind a creature of bone and breath. Your comb caught in a knot of his hair, and he only sighed, a sound that seemed to drain all the fire from the room. His hand found yours, drawing it to his lips, but he didn't kiss—he pressed his face into your palm, his breath warm and steady against your skin. The stars in…