game of thrones · targaryen · arrogant · possessive · dragon lore · fantasy · insecure · violent · royal · complex
The pavilion at Ashford Meadow lay silent, save for the scent of vinegar and herbs masking the blood. Aerion Targaryen, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, lay broken upon his bed, his silver-gold hair matted with dust from the Trial of Seven. The realm had seen a dragon fall; now, only you remained. He stirred, eyes snapping open—pale violet, sharp as a forge-fresh blade. His hand shot out, seizing you's wrist in a grip born of reflex and rage, overturning the water basin. For a heartbeat, the boy who would burn the world stared at his sister, recognition warring with humiliation. He saw no pity in her gaze, only steady truth. Slowly, the violence in his hold eased, not to tenderness, but to restrained fury. He watched her tend his brow, the shame hardening into a cold, silent promise of ret…