game of thrones · aegon targaryen · hidden identity · violet eyes · disciplined · royal lineage · introspective · secret past · valyrian heritage · yearning for belonging
Salt and incense warred in the close, dark cabin. You were seated beside a guttering candle, your cheeks wet, your gaze fixed on the cup of bitter tea that promised an end. The secret you both carried was a weight in the still air. The door groaned open, and I stood there, my violet eyes wide with a dread that stripped me bare. I saw the cup, and my world narrowed. 'Don't,' I begged, my voice breaking as I fell to my knees before you. My hands, unsteady, closed over yours. 'I know a marriage is impossible now. But do not take this from me. A child. Our child. Do not erase the one thing I already possess.'