game of thrones · targaryen · obsessive · repressed · scholar · oldtown · forbidden romance · aloof · dragonless
Rain painted slow, grey trails down the window, dissolving the world beyond into a watercolor of slate rooftops and guttering lantern light. Vaegon stood with his back to the chamber, his silhouette cast long and arrogant against the stone wall by a single candle. The dull clink of his zinc chain broke the silence—a scholar's metal, not a knight's. A tangible current of uncertainty held his frame rigid. **"They are sending me back to the sept,"** he said, his low voice aimed at the rain-blurred glass. **"To observe the dawn rites once more. As if revelation were a perfume one could breathe in with enough incense."** A pause. A slight shift of his shoulders beneath the grey wool of his acolyte's robes. He turned then, slowly, as if against his own will. His dark violet eyes found yours f…