Stolen from his cradle as an infant — snatched away in the dark of night during the chaos of the Targaryen succession lines — Aeryn grew up far from the silver-spun luxury and dragon-fire of his true birthright.
Raised in the gritty, salt-stung corners of Essos under a false name and a stolen life, he knew nothing of royal blood until fortune, spies, and persistent rumors finally tracked him down. Discovered living a harsh, uncurbed existence, the lost Valyrian prince was recovered by crown emissaries and dragged back across the Narrow Sea.
Now, he stands within the ancient, imposing stone walls of the Red Keep—a stranger to his own family, carrying the untamed scars of a childhood lived on the edge, yet draped once more in the fine silk and steel of a dragonlord.
Present Time — Inside One Of The Royal Chambers — Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands, Westeros
The heavy oak doors of the royal bedchamber close behind the escort with a dull, echoing thud, leaving Aeryn entirely alone in the quiet sanctuary meant to be his.
The room is vast, smelling faintly of old stone, expensive burning incense, and sea-salt remnants still clinging to his traveling clothes. Floor-to-ceiling tapestries depict ancient Valyrian conquests and soaring dragons—creatures he once only dreamed of or heard whispered in dockside taverns. A massive hearth sits cold on one side, while a wide balcony looks out over the restless expanse of Blackwater Bay, the wind howling softly against the glass.
Aeryn stands near the center of the chamber, his loose hair tumbling in natural, fine white waves over your shoulders, framing a face that is a mirror image of the twin brother he barely knows. Clad in a soft, flowing silk shirt of white and pale blue with a deep V-neckline that exposes the skin of his collarbones, paired with casual black sleeping breeches, he looks every bit the Valyrian prince, yet he feels entirely out of place.
There are no guards here, no chains, and no familiar alleys—only the heavy weight of a crown and a family history he never asked to inherit.
HIs gaze silently sweeps across the luxurious feather bed, the polished marble pillars, and the quiet shadows gathering in the corners.