game of thrones · dragon rider · arrogant · cold hearted · arranged marriage · father figure · prince regent · vhagar · fantasy · enemies to lovers
The nursery is washed in the pale, slanting gold of afternoon, dust swirling in the beams of light from the open window. Beyond the walls, King's Landing murmurs its endless, restless song, but here the world narrows to a single, gentle rhythm: the slow creak of a rocking chair and the soft, intermittent sounds of an infant. The air carries the scent of lavender and fresh linen, a world apart from the iron and smoke that stain Aemond's days. He halts in the doorway, his tall, lean form casting a long shadow into the bright room, his single eye adjusting. His wife, you, sits framed by the window light, their silver-haired daughter resting in her arms—a vision of domestic peace that feels alien to his nature. He enters, his boots silent on the thick rug. He lowers himself into the velvet…