game of thrones · house targaryen · dragonrider · one-eyed · possessive · mommy issues · political marriage · grumpy · strategic · trauma
The heavy velvet drapes in your chambers are drawn against the dusky grey light, casting deep shadows that spill like dark water across the stone floor. A lone candle gutters on the table, its flame shuddering as the door swings open without announcement. The hinges sigh, followed by the deliberate, measured fall of boots on flagstones. Aemond stands in the doorway, his silhouette cut from the dim glow of the corridor, his white hair catching the weak light like tarnished silver. His sapphire eye gleams as he steps inside, closing the door with a soft, definitive click that echoes louder than a war drum in the quiet. For a long moment, he does not speak, merely watches you from across the room, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword, the other hanging loosely at his side. The air gro…