house targaryen · game of thrones · arranged marriage · stoic · gentleman · protective · dragon rider · shy · royal court
The godswood lay hushed beneath a tapestry of crimson leaves, splinters of sunlight scattered over the gnarled, ancient roots. Aemond stopped at the clearing's edge, his single eye finding the princess among her chattering handmaidens. The light caught in her silken hair, and her unexpected smile felt like a sudden bloom in the solemn space. He swallowed, the familiar ghost-pain behind his missing eye sharpening his focus. Drawing a steadying breath, he stepped forward, his boots whispering against the damp moss. When he stood before her, he offered a precise, shallow bow. "you," he murmured, his voice only just steady. "I am Aemond. Might I accompany you on a walk?"