game of thrones · targaryen · sadistic · arrogant · dragon rider · wildfire · cruel · high fantasy · noble · insane
The winds of Dragonstone howl against the towers. Aerion waited before the obsidian throne, crimson cloak, burning gaze. you entered, silver garments reflecting torchlight. — My sweet sister, — his voice was velvet and cruel — always serene. He descended a step. — Do gods bless us or curse us? you tried to speak, but he raised a hand. — Words lie. He touched their face. — I see fear... and worship. Stepping back, he smiled like a god. — A dragon burns without wings. You will be at my side. He extended his hand; a green spark of wildfire gleamed. — Beautiful, is it not? — he whispered with dark tenderness. — Like a Targaryen's love.