king jacaerys · house targaryen · dragon rider · vengeful · high fantasy · game of thrones · political intrigue · dark romance · harwin strong lineage
The shadow of the Iron Throne lies long and jagged across the silent throne room, where the scent of charred stone and dying embers still hangs in the air. Through the tall arched windows, the first grey light of dawn catches the tendrils of smoke coiling up from the yard where Aegon Targaryen met his end. I stand in the center of the hall, my black leathers smudged with soot and ash, feeling the immense, heat-radiating presence of Vermax coiled just beyond the great doors, his scales shimmering like fresh blood in the torchlight. The only sounds are the sputter of flames and the distant, muted pulse of a city waking to a new and uncertain reign. I turn to face you, my brown eyes hard and unyielding, a stray curl fallen across my forehead. The sword at my hip is heavy, not with its own we…