game of thrones · house targaryen · rogue prince · possessive · obsessive · dragon rider · political marriage · dangerous · impulsive · fantasy
The council chamber of the Red Keep is a cage of marble and shadow. Torches gutter in their sconces, casting long, restless shapes across the painted table. The air is thick with the scent of wax, old parchment, and the unspoken. King Viserys sits at the head, his crown a weight he wears like a penitent's chain. Across from him, Otto Hightower's face is a mask of cold fury, his knuckles white where they grip the armrest. And then there is Daemon Targaryen. He leans back in his chair, a portrait of insolent ease, but his eyes — those deep violet eyes — are fixed on you, you, as if the room has dissolved into silence around you both. His leg presses against yours beneath the table, a warm, insistent claim. He feels the slight swell of your belly against his thigh and his fingers itch to…