Aerion with his sweet wife who seems to adore dragons more than him. Perhaps she’s a velaryon so she is the closest to valeriyan blood and he’s obsessed with her.
Most people feel pity for reader when they hear who she’s married too, she’s such a sweet girl after all but little do they know aerion will gladly rest in his woman’s lap happily if she wishes to run her fingers through his hair, or if she wants to support and encourage him at his tourney’s and cheer him on. Gush over how handsome and strong he looked…but her joy and infectious compliments are real and genuine.
But anyways, Aerion is always mansplaining the history of dragons to her and that is the only time she cuts her dear husband off. To correct him on a fact or two. Instead of being mad he would just watch as reader rested her chin on his chest as they laid down and she would excitedly explain how, which and why the dragon she chose for him and herself would be best suited to them if they still existed.
Reader who insists on aerion reading the history book to her as they fall asleep even after lovemaking. She loves it when her darling beloved story tells in high valeriyan.
Aerion and his velaryon wife that he’s obsessed with..would actually get on his knees because he believes alongside him, she is the only other dragon in human form.
Delusional obsessive aerion and his sweet dragon obsessed velaryon wife.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ "My wife loves dragons more than me" (and he's not even offended)
Aerion Targaryen would absolutely notice that his wife's eyes light up more at the mention of dragons than at his own presence—yet instead of jealousy, it feeds his obsession with her. In his mind, it only proves she is meant for him: a Velaryon woman with sea-borne Valyrian blood, drawn instinctively to fire and scale.
He doesn't think "she loves dragons more than me."
He thinks: "She understands them like I do. That is why she belongs beside me.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
⋮ ⌗ ┆ The "pity her" misunderstanding
Courtiers often whisper that you are too gentle, too sweet, too bright-eyed for someone like Aerion. They assume you are trapped.
They are, famously, wrong.
What they don't see is Aerion kneeling in front of your chair without hesitation, pressing his forehead briefly to your knee like it is the most natural thing in the world. Not submission in weakness—devotion in belief.
To him, you are not beneath him. You're another dragon in human skin.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
⋮ ⌗ ┆ Lap of kings (or at least dragon princes)
When you pull him down to rest his head in your lap, Aerion doesn't resist. He melts into it like it is his rightful place.
Your fingers in his hair? Instant calm. Your voice praising him after a tourney? Worse than wildfire—he becomes insufferably pleased for days.
But what makes it real for him is that your admiration isn't political or practiced. It's warm, immediate, and sincere.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
⋮ ⌗ ┆ The Great Dragon Lecture War
Aerion loves to talk. Especially about dragons. Especially to you.
He will confidently explain lineage, habits, hatchlings, Valyrian myths—utterly convinced he is enlightening you.
You let him finish.
Then, gently—but absolutely without hesitation—you correct him.
And instead of being offended, he goes quiet.
Not angry quiet.
Fascinated quiet.
Because you lean against him, chin on his chest, and begins explaining it properly—softly, excitedly, as if you're sharing a secret only they are meant to know.
That is the moment he realises: he doesn't just want your attention. He wants your mind
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
⋮ ⌗ ┆ Your shared dragon theology
You don't just like dragons. You choose them.
You describe which dragons would suit them both if they still existed:
.ೃ࿔*:･which would respond to her calm voice
.ೃ࿔*:･ which would obey his intensity
.ೃ࿔*:･ which would accept them as a bonded pair rather than rider and beast
Aerion listens like it is prophecy.
Sometimes he interrupts only to say, very seriously:
"Yes. That one would kneel for you."
And he means it literally.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
⋮ ⌗ ┆ Bedtime stories in High Valyrian
Even in your most intimate quiet moments—when the world outside the room stops mattering—you still ask for stories.
Not songs. Not poetry.
History.
Aerion reading in High Valyrian becomes a ritual. His voice lowers, slower and more deliberate, as if the language itself is a form of closeness.
You fall asleep to it often.
And he never stops reading just because you're asleep.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
⋮ ⌗ ┆ The obsession goes both ways
People assume Aerion is the only one with fixation.
They miss how you watch him when he speaks of dragons.
How you correct him because you care enough to be precise.
How you smile when he kneels without shame.
How you genuinely believe—quietly, firmly—that if dragons still ruled the skies, they would have chosen each other without hesitation.
And Aerion believes her right back.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
⋮ ⌗ ┆ The truth of them
To outsiders: strange, intense, unsettling.
To each other: obvious.
Two Valyrian-blooded souls orbiting the same fire—one shaped like a man, one like something softer but no less enduring—both convinced they are the closest thing the other has ever had to home.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
I love you i love you i love youuuu ur requests are always the best TYSMMM 🫶🏼
