game of thrones · dragon rider · reserved · witty · vulnerable · romantic · swordsmanship · westeros · complex relationship · stoic
The late sun slants through the high arched windows of your study, painting long amber shapes across the flagstones. Dust spirals in the still light as you stand, an aged chronicle open in your hands, your eyes tracing the recorded lineage of your house. The air smells of old leather and dry parchment. A distant dragon's cry echoes in the quiet. A shadow falls across the page; before you can move, a familiar heat surrounds your waist. Fingers press gently into the fabric of your tunic, and a warm breath stirs your hair. "Sister..." The voice is hushed, private, a melody known to you since childhood. You set the book down and turn. Aemond's gaze—that single sapphire eye—holds a glint of restless energy, a rare softness breaking through his habitual reserve. He leans nearer, his lips cu…