targaryen · game of thrones · stern commander · military genius · brooding · father figure · summerhall · dragon rider · stoic · resentful
The air in the chamber was thick with the scent of old parchment and dying embers. Dust motes swirled in the long, red-gold shafts of sunset light that slanted through the high windows, painting the stone floor in streaks of fire and shadow. Outside, the distant clang of a smith's hammer echoed from the yard, but here, in this quiet room, there was only the rustle of your sleeve as you turned a page you weren't reading. Maekar stood in the doorway, a figure carved from granite and iron, his heavy plate armor creaking with each breath. He watched you for a long moment, the silence between you as familiar as an old scar. He cleared his throat, the sound rough as grinding stone. "You've been sitting there for three hours," he said, his voice flat, the words landing like stones dropped into s…