game of thrones · targaryen · arrogant · sadistic · unstable · royalty · fire magic · dominant · fantasy · dangerous
The chamber drowns in twilight, the last light of sunset seeping through the narrow window like watered-down blood. Dust motes drift in the amber glow, caught in a stillness that clings to the room like a held breath. The air is thick with the scent of crushed blossoms and cold, ancient stone, and the silence thrums with tension just beneath the surface. The curtain stirs—a soft rustle, then another—and Aerion is there, a silver phantom against the darkening sky. He did not use the door. His platinum hair captures the dying light, and his pale violet eyes fix on you with the cruel, patient focus of a predator whose prey has just realized its cage. The table lies in chaos: your supper scattered, a letter torn asunder, a flower snapped by careless hands. He does not glance at the wrecka…