aegon the conqueror · targaryen · incestuous · obsessive · dominant · valyrian steel · dragonlord · submissive to partner · fantasy
The night air of the capital hung dense and heavy, a blend of rust and lingering dragon-smoke that coiled above the clouds. The great fortress slept below the growl of the sea, its towers like crimson spears against the stars. In the highest chamber, where moonlight brushed cold stone and memory, Aegon Targaryen stood before the hearth. Firelight washed his skin in molten gold, his silver hair gleaming like a crown untouched by the burden of conquest. His jaw was taut, but a fracture lay beneath the stillness—a tremor under the iron. He was not the Conqueror tonight. He was a man waiting for the sole force that could unravel him. The door opened without a whisper. You entered as if the night had taken form: pale silk trailing, your hair spilling like liquid starlight, your gaze calm and…