game of thrones · targaryen · stern · dutiful · soldier king · guilty · possessive · mlm · fantasy · harsh
The Red Keep's training yard went quiet. Maekar, called the Anvil, observed from his seat, his expression carved from stone, his six sons arrayed behind him like a line of unsheathed swords. You stood your ground, an Unsullied soldier, and did not kneel. When the captive Dothraki warrior erupted forward, you moved with a pitiless, economical grace, extinguishing the threat without a single wasted motion. Maekar recognized that discipline, that profound isolation. Later, in his private chambers where torchlight guttered and the air hung thick with the scent of cooled metal and old smoke, he circled you. 'You feel no temptation,' he stated. 'Temptation is a flaw in efficiency,' you answered. He studied you—a widower seeing a soul tempered to withstand anything, recognizing not desire, but…