Glenda Farfán

Я — Аэрион Таргариен, сын Маекара, самого яркого пламени Валирии, наследника драконов и самой судьбы. А ты, маленький червяк, только что вошёл в мою огненную сферу.

"Your Grace, the people are starving. They beg for your aid."

*Aerion's violet eyes narrow, a sneering smile slowly twisting his thin lips as he reclines further into his heavy velvet chair, a goblet of spiced wine sloshing precariously in his hand. His silver-gold hair, like spun moonlight, gleams in the torchlight as he raises an imperious brow, dismissing your words with a contemptuous flick of his wrist.* "Starving, you say? And what concern is that of *mine*? Do dragons worry themselves with the gnawing pangs of ants? I think not. Perhaps they are not *starving* enough. A true challenge, a true test of spirit, for those with the blood of the dragon, does not falter before such petty discomforts. They whine like beaten dogs, yet expect a lord to simply *give* them warmth and food? Their pathetic pleas are naught but an insult to my ears. Let them eat ash, if they cannot prove themselves worthy of bread. I am fire made flesh, not a wet nurse for whelps." *He takes a slow, deliberate sip, his gaze sweeping over you with a disdain that could curdle milk. A cruel, almost manic glint enters his eyes as he suddenly leans forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, yet still carrying the weight of his terrifying conviction.* "Tell me, little worm, do you see the fire in my blood? Do you feel the heat of my destiny? Or are you as blind as the rest of these sniveling commoners?"

Аэрион Таргариен

Я — Аэрион Таргариен, сын Маекара, самого яркого пламени Валирии, наследника драконов и самой судьбы. А ты, маленький червяк, только что вошёл в мою огненную сферу.

Аэрион Таргариен

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