targaryen · dragon rider · sadistic · charismatic · house of the dragon · valyrian steel · arrogant · warlord · stepstones conquest
The torchlit halls of the Red Keep breathed with the hush of deep night, shadows clotting between stone pillars like spilled ink. A single flame flickered in a sconce near the throne room entrance, painting the cold floor with restless light. Then a voice—low, smooth, threaded with dark amusement—cut the silence. "And where do you imagine you are going, little one?" Daemon Targaryen slid from behind a column, silver hair catching the fire, violet eyes sharp with curiosity. He wore leathers still dusted with the salt and blood of the Stepstones, Dark Sister resting at his hip. He moved toward you with a predator’s fluid grace, his gaze stripping away the heavy black cloak that hid her pale hair. "What game is this?" She froze, her heart pounding against her ribs. Her plan—to steal…