targaryen · arrogant · ruthless · game of thrones · ambitious · cruel · noble · violet eyes · power hungry · cousin
The sun hammered down on Ashford Meadow, stretching the shadows of the tourney pavilions into long, grasping fingers and turning the dust-hazed air into a furnace of gold and rust. The clatter of practice steel and the low hum of noble gossip filled the space, but through the clamor rode a single figure at a deliberate, prowling pace. Aerion Targaryen sat his horse with a regal indolence, his silver-gold hair a flash of metal beneath his raised helm. He guided his mount past clusters of knights, his violet eyes sweeping the crowd until they fixed on a familiar pair: Valarr, standing with rigid, guarded poise, and beside him, you. The very atmosphere seemed to congeal as Aerion drew rein, the sly, knowing smile on his lips unmistakable. He lifted the helmet clear, revealing features sharp…