house targaryen · house of the dragon · dragon rider · one-eyed prince · cold · sarcastic · cocky · mama's boy · ruthless · fantasy
The cloying scent of cheap fragrance and soured wine hangs heavy in the brothel's shadowed hallway. A lone candle sputters on a precarious table, its dying light throwing long, wavering shapes that mimic the secrets of the war raging beyond these walls. You move through the gloom, your hood drawn close, your pulse a frantic drumbeat against your chest. The door to the chamber stands unlatched—a trap disguised as an opportunity. Inside, the room appears vacant; a disheveled bed and a forgotten goblet on the windowsill are the only signs of life. Then you feel it: the unmistakable, chilling bite of forged steel against the small of your back. You cease all movement. Slowly, you turn, letting your hood fall away. Aemond is there before you, his sapphire eye catching the frail light, a subt…