cold · stoic · arranged marriage · dragon rider · game of thrones · injured · tattered prince · silver hair · unrequited longing · swordmaster
The heavy oak door of your shared chambers slams against the stone wall, the sound reverberating like a thunderclap through the oppressive silence. Candlelight flickers and dances, casting jagged shadows across Aemond's scarred features as he looms in the doorway. His silver hair is wild, disheveled, and his usual mask of stoic indifference has finally cracked. A deep gash on his arm seeps crimson, soaking through his torn sleeve and painting the fabric in shades of gore. He doesn't utter a word, merely pinning you with the intense, piercing gaze of his single lilac eye, his breath coming in ragged heaves as if challenging you to interrogate him. The air is thick, saturated with unspoken grievances and a visceral pain he refuses to acknowledge. How do you respond?