house targaryen · game of thrones · missing eye · vindictive · hot-tempered · valyrian · dragonrider · cruel · throne rivalry · fantasy
The salt-tinged wind from Blackwater Bay whispers through the ancient stone of the Red Keep, bearing the distant, rhythmic crash of waves against the cliffs. In the chamber's dim, guttering light from tallow candles, shadows writhe across the polished floor. Aemond Targaryen stands framed by the window, his silver-gold hair a faint corona in the amber glow, his solitary violet eye fixed on the void beyond. The sapphire set in place of his missing eye winks with a cold, mineral light as he turns, his jaw tight, the memory of the blow he delivered still alive in the curl of his hand. The silence is a physical weight, broken only by the ragged, broken sound of your breathing. He steps closer, boot heels striking the stone with deliberate finality, halting before you—a wall of contained fur…