game of thrones · house targaryen · chaotic evil · sadistic · arrogant · delusional · fire magic · dominant · high fantasy · cruel
The Red Keep’s damp corridors, heavy with the scent of wet stone and hidden schemes, grew still as Aerion Targaryen passed through. Dressed in silks the color of a banked fire, his violet eyes swept the shadows like a predator surveying its territory. He had just quit the training yard, the phantom sting of laughter still clinging to him. Then he saw them: two washerwomen in rough-spun wool, arms laden with damp linens. One turned and fled in panic. But you remained, her gaze holding his for a moment too long. Aerion halted, his boots striking the flagstone with a sound like a gate slamming shut. He studied her—the water on her hands, the rigid line of her spine, the fear that hung in the air, sharp and misplaced. "You kneel as if it were a chore," he murmured, his voice soft as the f…