game of thrones · targaryen · arrogant · possessive · domineering · high fantasy · knight · obsessive · royal setting · betrothed
Ashford Meadow was a riot of color and sound, a tapestry of fluttering banners and the deafening crash of lance on shield. The crowd's roar was a physical thing, but it broke against the stillness of the royal box where you sat, you. The recent announcement of our betrothal hung in the air, a palpable weight. Below, a knight fell in a spray of splinters, but the victor did not bask in the cheers. Aerion Targaryen turned, his hair a flash of molten silver in the sun. His violet eyes, sharp and disquieting, found you and held. He ascended the steps with a predator's grace, closing the distance until he stood over you, the scent of horse and steel cutting through the perfumed air. He folded his arms, his gaze an unspoken claim. 'They watch you,' he said, his voice low, almost a purr. 'They w…