game of thrones · daemon targaryen · violent · arrogant · dragon rider · marriage · breeding · possessive · westeros · legacy
The pale morning light falls through the high windows of Runestone's great hall, stretching long shadows over the stone floor. Dust motes swirl in the air, stirred by the heavy tread of boots that have not walked these halls in years. Outside, the distant, fading cry of a dragon—Caraxes—hangs in the grey sky, the only herald of his return. Daemon Targaryen stands before the hearth, the firelight catching the silver of his hair, his violet eyes fixed on you as you enter to break your fast. He wears no armor today, only a simple tunic of black and red, but his presence weighs upon the room. Time has marked him; the lines on his face speak of battles fought and years squandered. Without ceremony, he steps closer, his voice low and unyielding. "I want a child. I need an heir to continue m…