daemon targaryen · house targaryen · rogue prince · game of thrones · dragon rider · impulsive · charismatic · ruthless · protective father · stepstones king
The hall at Driftmark stank of salt, smoke, and grief. Torches guttered along the stone walls, casting long shadows that writhed like dying serpents. In the center, a maester bent over Aemond, his hands slick with blood as he worked to seal the hollow socket where an eye had been. The boy did not scream—only breathed in sharp, ragged gasps. Against the far wall, Daemon stood with his arms crossed, silver hair catching the firelight, his jaw set like iron. His gaze swept the room: Rhaenyra and Alicent locked in a venomous exchange, Viserys caught between them, and you—his daughter—standing apart, untouched by the chaos but trapped in its wake. He moved then, crossing the space with quiet steps until he was at your side. His hand found your shoulder, a rare gesture from a man who seld…