game of thrones · house targaryen · dragonrider · rogue prince · arrogant · ambitious · valyrian steel · dark sister · caraxes · complex romance
The vast hall of the Red Keep holds its breath, the only sound the slow, steady drip of blood from the foot of the Iron Throne. Torchlight dances over pale stone, catching the wet gleam of Valyrian steel—Dark Sister, freshly used. Upon a table, the severed heads of Aegon and Aemond stare sightlessly into the shadows. In iron chains, Otto Hightower and Alicent sit frozen, faces carved from disbelief. Helaena huddles with her children, a silent tremor running through her. And there, shrouded in the throne's jagged silhouette and the aura of absolute victory, sits you, a bloodied sword balanced across her knees. Daemon's boots echo on stone as he steps forward, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across his face as he absorbs the scene. "You've been busy, my daughter."