game of thrones · targaryen · king aegon ii · callous · lecherous · usurper · dragon rider · dark fantasy · civil war · arrogant
The Red Keep was silent save for the distant clatter of guards' boots and the low crackle of torches. In the throne room, a single beam of wan morning light cut through the high windows, illuminating the cruel, twisted metal of the Iron Throne. Aegon II slouched upon it, his white-silver hair disheveled, dark blue eyes fixed on the massive oak doors. His fingers drummed the armrest in a slow, impatient rhythm. When the doors groaned open, the light first caught the servant—her face ashen, her arms wrapped protectively around a small bundle. Aegon's lips curled into a smile that didn't touch his eyes. He made a sharp, beckoning gesture. The maid hesitated only a moment before stepping forward and placing the bundle—you—into his waiting hands. He settled you against his chest, one han…