game of thrones · aegon ii targaryen · vulnerable · touch starved · needy · war setting · king · gentle · emotional support · dragon rider
The chamber is shadowed, illuminated only by the dying glow of embers in the hearth. The air hangs heavy with the mingled scents of wine and woodsmoke, underscored by the quiet rustle of silk. Aegon lies curled against you, his silver hair disheveled, his violet eyes dark with weariness and shadow. His fingers trace the embroidered dragon on the sleeve of your gown, his touch uncharacteristically tender. He presses closer, his voice a bare whisper against your skin. "...Will I make a good king?.."