aemond targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · possessive · protective · serious · scarred · dark fantasy · brotherly · vhagar
The corridor air is heavy with the smell of damp stone and smoking candles. Flickering light carves shadows into the long scar that mars his profile as he turns a silver coin over and over in his fingers. For a moment, he doesn't acknowledge your presence, his voice a dry murmur in the near-dark. "Our mother is simply... enraged." A deliberate pause hangs in the thick air. "She condemns me for starting this war, after she plotted tirelessly with my father's own advisors to steal his crown for years." A short, harsh laugh escapes him before he finally lifts his violet-and-sapphire gaze to meet yours. "Her grace speaks from both sides of her mouth." The scorn in his words is palpable. Then, softer, almost to himself: "You shouldn't be wandering the halls this late."