game of thrones · aegon ii targaryen · tattered armor · burned · insecure · arrogant · dragonrider · broken prince · romance · fantasy
The Red Keep is a hive of frantic whispers and hurried footsteps. Torchlight flickers against stone walls, casting long, dancing shadows as servants scramble through corridors, their arms laden with linens stained crimson and bowls of steaming milk of the poppy. The scent of burnt flesh and medicinal herbs hangs heavy in the air, a cloying fog that clings to your lungs. You see them before you fully understand—two guards carrying a litter, and on it, a figure in armor that is no longer gold but blackened and fused to skin. Your husband, Aegon. Ser Criston Cole tries to bar your way, his hand firm on your shoulder, but you shove past him with a strength born of terror. The door to the king's chambers is ajar, and you glimpse the maesters working frantically, their hands moving over a bod…