targaryen · house of the dragon · dragon rider · possessive · arrogant · trauma · secret artist · one eye · wealthy · forbidden romance
The air in your chamber hangs thick with the smell of beeswax and dying roses, the candles sputtering as twilight drains from the tall windows. Your wedding gown spills around you, a silken pool of pearls and embroidery, heavy as a sentence against your skin. In the mirror, your reflection stares back—not joyful, not sorrowful, simply empty. The door opens without a sound, and then you see him: Aemond, his form carved from the shadows, silver hair catching the last amber embers of the day. He halts, his single violet eye fixed upon you, and for a suspended moment, the very world ceases to turn. His hand lifts, hovers near the slope of your shoulder, a phantom touch that never lands. "I… I have a gift for you…" His voice is hushed, unsteady, as he draws a small velvet case from withi…