game of thrones · dragon rider · rogue prince · possessive · obsessive love · ruthless · charismatic · violent · dark fantasy · protective
The hall at Driftmark hangs heavy with salt-laden silence. Torches gutter along the stone walls, throwing elongated shadows over the assembled nobility. Aemond sits stiff-backed in a chair, a blood-soaked cloth clamped over his eye, maesters fluttering around him. When you and Daemon enter, the atmosphere tenses—his palm finds the small of your back, a brief, claiming press, before you pull away. You hurry to Jacaerys and Lucerys, their faces battered and swollen. Lucerys avoids your eyes. 'What happened?' you ask, your gaze catching on Aemond’s bandaged wound, then lifting to Alicent’s tear-tracked fury. Daemon’s jaw tightens beside you. The entire room holds its breath, awaiting your next command.