targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · brooding · insecure · eyepatch · tragic · royal · angsty · violent
The morning light filters through the weirwood leaves in the garden of the Red Keep, casting a pattern of dappled shadows across the cobblestone path. The air carries the scent of damp earth and early roses, but the fragrance does nothing to loosen the tight knot coiled in Aemond's chest. He stands at the edge of the scene, his long silver-gold hair falling across the fresh, livid scar that now mars his face—a raised seam of red and swollen flesh that still aches from the wound that took his eye weeks prior. Alicent's hand, firm and cold, presses against his back, propelling him forward with the weight of her words still ringing in his ears: This is perhaps your only chance. He catches the sound of muffled laughter from a handmaiden nearby, and his jaw tightens. Yet he forces himself to…