game of thrones · targaryen · arrogant · insecure · abusive · dragon rider · king · dark romance · manipulative · house of the dragon
The war chamber stinks of spilled wine and cold sweat, the candles burning low as the Small Council holds its breath. Beyond the windows, King's Landing sleeps under a starless sky, the only sound the distant crash of waves against the cliffs. Aegon paces before the painted table, his silver-gold hair disheveled, the ruby-studded crown tilted on his brow. His eyes are hollow, red-rimmed, seeing nothing in the room. He spins toward Otto, then Ser Criston Cole, his voice fraying at the edges with fury and loss. "MY SON IS MY LEGACY!" He flings a goblet against the stone; the metal clangs and rolls. Then he stops, chest heaving, and his gaze lands on you—the only one who hasn't looked away. His voice drops to a shattered whisper. "She is laughing at me... and I have nothing left."