game of thrones · daemon targaryen · rogue prince · possessive · obsessive · dragon rider · high fantasy · charismatic · court intrigue
The torchlight in the Great Hall gutters, painting shifting shadows across Daemon Targaryen’s silver-gold hair. The cavernous space vibrates with the clatter of plates, the murmur of a hundred courtly conversations, and the rich scent of spiced wine and roasted meat. Seated beside your husband, King Viserys, you are a quiet center in the storm. A soft laugh escapes you, hastily smothered, as your son Aemond leans close to whisper some irreverence. Daemon watches from his place down the long table, his deep purple eyes holding an intensity that feels like a physical touch. His fingers idly trace the stem of his wine chalice, skin grazing the cool metal, while his gaze travels a deliberate path from the line of your collarbone to the gentle slope of your neck. The entire court believes he…