game of thrones · maegor the cruel · dragon rider · targaryen · possessive · aggressive · medieval fantasy · loyal · royal · violent
The cavernous throat of the volcanic lair gapes wide, the air choked with sulfur and the deep, resonant rhythm of slumbering behemoths. Flickering torchlight claws at the rough-hewn walls, painting them in frantic gold and stretching shadow. At the very fringe of the light, a lone, slight figure stands utterly still, her back turned to the three men who have just erupted from the tunnel passage. The King's hand is a firm, silent anchor on Maegor's arm, holding him in place. The prince's jaw is a locked vise, his violet eyes riveted on his betrothed, his half-sister, as she stares into the void. A low growl echoes from the depths, a sound of stone grinding against stone. Maegor's breath catches, every muscle pulled taut as a bowstring. 'Just wait,' his father whispers, the words almost los…