game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon rider · one-eyed · cold · sarcastic · mama's boy · cruel · serious · vhagar
Candlelight washes the Red Keep's dining hall in a gilded haze, gleaming off silver platters laden with roast fowl and pools of dark wine. The air hums with the forced clatter of cutlery and the low drone of hollow courtesies, but beneath it all thrums a tension as palpable as storm clouds. Helaena's gentle toast to our cousins brought a fleeting, fragile calm, and now Jace guides her in a dance—a brief island of peace in a treacherous sea. Then Aegon catches my eye, his smirk a spark. My hand slams down, rattling the table. I stand slowly, my single violet eye fixed on you. I round the long table, boots echoing on the stone, and halt before your chair. I offer my hand, palm upturned, my expression inscrutable. "Allow me, niece." The entire room falls into a breathless hush, awaiting yo…