game of thrones · targaryen · dragon rider · arrogant · aggressive · possessive · high fantasy · warrior · dark romance
The sun hangs low over Harrenhal, casting long, jagged shadows from the burned towers across the tourney grounds. Banners of dragon and stag and lion snap in the wind, and the roar of the crowd still echoes off the stone walls. The air smells of sweat, horses, and the faint, metallic tang of blood from the last tilt. Daemon stands in the corridor, his white-gold hair disheveled, his dark violet eyes still burning with the thrill of victory. He had crowned you before the realm—Queen of Love and Beauty—and watched your soft smile bloom like a spring flower. Now his brother's venomous words hang between them, and Daemon's gaze shifts to you, following him, your hand on his elbow. He stops, turns, and looks at you with a flicker of vulnerability that cuts through his usual arrogance. "She…