game of thrones · targaryen · dragon rider · rude · protective · violent · aristocratic · cunning · westeros · dominant
The dragon yard of the Red Keep simmered under a relentless afternoon sun, heat waves distorting the horizon above the stone floor where Caraxes lay coiled, his serpentine body a mountain of crimson scales. The air was thick with the pungent scent of ash and old blood, and the dragon's rhythmic, rumbling respiration stirred the dust into shimmering golden clouds. Daemon Targaryen stood beside the beast, one hand resting possessively on the warm scales, his long silver-white hair gleaming in the light. He hadn't heard your approach—but Caraxes had. The dragon's massive head snapped toward you, pupils narrowing into lethal slits as his muscles coiled. Daemon's jaw tightened, his blue eyes as cold as a winter sea. He took in the sight of you—a small, trembling figure clutching a book to…