125 A.C

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

(No silent readers pls thx. English is not my first language so please forgive me for any mistakes and it's also 4 am rn)

KING'S LANDING
The bells tolled faintly in the distance, carrying the announcement of the day's great event the wedding between Prince Aegon of 18 and his sister, Princess Aenora of 17. The Red Keep was alive with restless movement, every corridor humming with servants, courtiers, and nobles eager to witness the scandalous union.

But Daenys had escaped the stifling atmosphere of the Keep, retreating into the gardens where roses climbed the trellises and lavender swayed gently in the warm breeze. She crouched low, her slender fingers plucking blossoms of pale pink and white, arranging them delicately in her arms.

The flowers would suit Aenora well. Daenys thought of her older sister with a soft, fleeting smile radiant, fierce, untouchable even as Aenora made a sport of mocking her softness.

Daenys, just turned four and ten two moons ago, was still lost in her thoughts like she had been when she was a kid that she didn't hear footsteps approach from behind. Two hands suddenly slid over her eyes, blocking out the world.

Her breath caught in surprise, though the faintest laugh bubbled in her chest.
"Guess who," came the voice, teasing, low, and unmistakably familiar.

Daenys's lips curved despite herself. "Aemond...?"

The hands lifted instantly, and before she could react, fingers darted at her sides. She shrieked, twisting as laughter broke from her lips unwillingly. "Aemond! Stop!"

But he didn't. Not yet. He pressed, relentless, until they tumbled back into the grass, the flowers scattering like confetti around them. Daenys landed hard, Aemond above her, their chests heaving with the remnants of laughter.

The world stilled.

His face hovered close, too close. She could see the pale gleam of his scar where the leather patch strapped tight across his ruined eye, could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. The weight of him pressed into the earth on either side of her, his silver hair falling forward.

Daenys swallowed hard, her laughter dying into silence.For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Then, with a sudden rush of nerves, she pressed her palms to his chest and pushed him back. Not harshly, but firmly. "You're heavy," she muttered, her voice thinner than she intended.

Aemond shifted off her quickly, clearing his throat as though the moment hadn't lingered. He smoothed the grass from his tunic, his expression awkward, almost boyish in its restraint.

His voice was gruff when he finally spoke. "The flowers..." He gestured to the blooms strewn about. "They're for Aenora, aren't they?"

Daenys nodded, gathering what blossoms she could back into her arms. "Of course. It is her wedding day."

She stood, brushing dirt from her skirts, refusing to meet his eye as her pulse steadied again. "I should find her. She'll be waiting."

Aemond rose after her, slower, watching her quietly. But he said nothing, only inclined his head as though giving her leave.

And Daenys turned away, clutching the flowers tightly, eager to disappear back into the halls before her own thoughts betrayed her.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

The stone corridors of the Red Keep buzzed with hurried footsteps and murmurs, but Daenys hardly heard them. Her arms cradled the bouquet tightly, the soft petals brushing against her chin as she walked beside Aemond.

He was silent, as always, though his long stride matched hers, their shoulders almost brushing in quiet unspoken comfort.

They reached Aenora's chambers where the guards outside bowed and opened the doors.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of oils and lavender powder. Aenora stood before the mirror, her gown of white and red gleaming with threads of green embroidery at the hems. Her hair had been woven into a crown of braids, pearls glinting in between, though her restless hands tugged at the fabric of her sleeves.

Queen Alicent sat nearby, her own gown resplendent yet modest, her face softening into a genuine smile the moment her children stepped in. "Aemond. Daenys," she greeted warmly, her voice a rare balm.

Daenys's lips curved in return, the tension of the morning easing. She stepped forward and held out the bouquet, her voice tender. "For you, Aenora."

Her elder sister bit her lip, the confidence she wore like armor faltering for just a heartbeat. She reached out and took the flowers carefully, her sigh betraying nerves she would never admit aloud. "Thank you," she said, her voice quieter than expected.

Daenys, moved by something fragile and sudden, leaned in and wrapped her arms around her sister. For a heartbeat, she feared Aenora would stiffen or mock her. But to her surprise, Aenora's arms folded around her in return a brief, uncertain embrace that melted away almost as quickly as it came.

Aenora pulled back sharply, smoothing her skirts and glancing at her reflection in the mirror. "Careful. Don't wrinkle the gown," she muttered, the edge back in her tone, though it rang hollow.

Daenys only smiled faintly, hiding the warmth she still felt from that brief flicker of closeness.

Alicent watched them both, her gaze lingering on the fleeting softness between her daughters. A small, almost wistful smile touched her lips, though she said nothing her hands folded neatly in her lap as though to anchor herself.

Aemond, quiet as a shadow, leaned against the wall, his single eye watching the exchange with a flicker of something warm.

The chamber door creaked open again, and a familiar voice echoed softly, half-teasing, half-shy. "Is this how you greet your brother after four years? No cheers? No tears?"

Daenys's head snapped toward the door. Her eyes widened as if she'd seen a ghost and then she gasped, her bouquet slipping to her side.

"Daeron!" she cried.

She bolted across the chamber, skirts swishing around her ankles, and threw herself into his arms. He caught her with a laugh, spinning her once off her feet. Though he was a year younger, he had grown taller, his shoulders broadening with the early shape of a man. Daenys clung to him as though she could make up for all the lost years in a single embrace.

"You're so tall now," she mumbled against his shoulder, her voice breaking with joy.

Daeron chuckled, holding her tight. "And you're still the same. Flowers in your hands and tears in your eyes."

Alicent's smile was warm as she watched them, her fingers brushing her lips for a moment before she cleared her throat gently. "Daenys," she said softly, a reminder of composure.

Daenys sniffed, quickly pulling back and wiping at her eyes, though her grin remained unshaken.

Aemond stepped forward then, his usual coldness tempered by something softer for once. He clasped Daeron's shoulder firmly before pulling him into a brief, strong embrace. "Brother," he said, low and steady.

"Brother," Daeron echoed with a grin.

Near the mirror, Aenora barely lifted her gaze, still fixed on her reflection.
"You've grown ," she muttered absently.

Daeron laughed outright, his voice warm and unrestrained. "I'm 13 of course I did. And you, sister, are about to be wed. I saw Aegon before I came here." He leaned against the doorframe, mischief in his eyes. "He is much worse than you."

Aenora gasped sharply, finally tearing
her gaze from her reflection. "Daeron!" she snapped, though the corner of her lips betrayed a twitch of nervous amusement. She bit down on them quickly, as if refusing to let it show.

Daenys's laughter rang out, light and unguarded, and even Aemond's mouth curved with the faintest hint of a smirk. Daeron laughed harder, pleased at her reaction.

Alicent's gaze softened as she took in the sight of her children together, her heart full, though she quickly gathered herself. "That is enough," she said gently, though there was fondness beneath her tone. "Behave yourselves. This is your sister's wedding day."

The younger ones quieted with lingering chuckles, though the warmth in the room remained a rare brightness before the weight of the ceremony to come.

Daenys lingered by the tall arched window with Daeron at her side, the sea breeze pushing faintly through the shutters and stirring her hair. She leaned slightly over the sill, staring out across the courtyard below. Servants hurried about with garlands and casks of wine, musicians tuned their lutes in the shade. The air smelled of salt, flowers, and anticipation.

Then she saw it a black carriage rolling past the gates, gilded trim gleaming in the sunlight. At its side, the banners of House Targaryen and Velaryon snapped in the wind. Daenys's heart jolted in her chest. She knew instantly who it was.

Her lips parted, breath catching. "It's them," she whispered.

Before Daeron could ask, she was gone, a flash of skirts as she rushed for the door. He groaned but followed without hesitation, his long legs easily closing the distance. "Daenys! Wait!"

Behind them, Queen Alicent's voice cut sharp across the chamber. "Daenys! Daeron! Behave yourselves!"

But neither of them turned back. The sound of their laughter and hurried footsteps trailed into the hall until it was swallowed by the vast corridors of the Red Keep.

Alicent exhaled, long and weary, pressing her fingers to her brow. "Gods help me," she muttered.

Aemond's single eye burned as he turned on her, his voice low but tight with restrained fury. "You should not have allowed them..."

"Aemond," Alicent interrupted softly, weary warning in her tone.

But Aenora whirled on their mother, her voice sharp, her silks rustling as she turned fully from her mirror. "How could you invite them to my wedding? In our hall? At my table?"

Alicent closed her eyes for a brief moment before answering with tired honesty. "Your father insisted. After all, Rhaenyra is his eldest daughter."

Aenora groaned aloud, throwing her hands up in exasperation before crossing her arms over her bodice. "Those bastards will ruin everything. They will ruin my day."

Aemond scoffed, the sound bitter and cold, before turning sharply on his heel. His cloak flared as he strode from the room without another word, his jaw tight, his fists clenched at his sides.

Alicent's gaze followed him, her chest tightening. Her son had not been the same since that night at Driftmark. The boy who once longed for a dragon had turned into something harder, sharper and mature at the young age of five and ten. And though Daenys softened him at times, even she could not reach the part of him that had grown shadowed.

Alicent sighed again, the weight of her fractured family pressing down on her shoulders, as outside in the courtyard, laughter Daenys's laughter floated faintly back through the open window.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

The courtyard of the Red Keep was alive with chatter and the clatter of hooves, servants moving quickly to attend to the arriving guests. But Daenys didn't hear or see any of it.
She burst through the great doors into the yard, her voice carrying high above the noise.

"Lulu!"

Heads turned, but she didn't care. Her feet flew over the stones, her skirts tangling about her ankles.

From the black carriage, a figure leapt down before the footman could even lower the step. "Nyssi!" Luke's voice cracked with joy as he ran toward her, taller now, broader in the shoulders at the age of three and ten, his curls bouncing in the wind.

They collided in the middle of the yard, arms wrapping around each other so tightly it seemed neither would ever let go. Luke buried his face against her temple, pressing quick, desperate kisses to her hairline and crown, murmuring between each one, "Gods, I missed you... I missed you so much, Nyssi."

"You're taller..." Daenys clung to him, her own eyes shining, heart pounding against his chest. For a long moment, the world shrank to just the two of them.

When at last they pulled apart, Luke's smile softened into wonder. He lifted a hand, brushing the faint scar still etched faintly at her temple with reverence, his voice low. "You're taller too. Grown... but still my Nyssi."

Before Daenys could reply, a shadow approached them. Luke looked up. Daeron, striding closer, his golden hair catching the sunlight.

Both boys froze for a heartbeat, their gazes locking, memories surging flowers and laughter, childhood days left behind.

"Luke," Daeron breathed, a grin spreading.

"Daeron?" Luke's face split into the same grin, disbelieving.

They gasped, then laughed, and without hesitation, embraced roughly, clapping each other's shoulders like brothers long parted.

"Seven hells, it's been years!" Luke exclaimed, pulling back to look at him properly. "You've changed. Taller... older!"

Daeron smirked, puffing his chest. "And you've grown soft with age."

They laughed again, the sound bright and boyish, drawing a warm smile from Daenys. She rolled her eyes, hands on her hips, though affection glowed in her expression.

But then her gaze shifted and caught.

Stepping down from the carriage was Princess Rhaenyra herself, regal even in her state, one hand steadying her rounded belly, Daemon close at her side, sharp-eyed and smirking.

Behind them came Jace, taller now, his hair dark and curling about his shoulders, and little Joffrey toddling with a nursemaid, only four summers old.

"Princess Rhaenyra!" Daenys cried, her voice thick with emotion. She ran straight into the woman's arms, nearly toppling her if not for Daemon's quick hand steadying his wife.

Rhaenyra chuckled warmly, stroking Daenys's hair. "Careful, little star. You'll knock me down with such love."

"Where's Baela and Rhaena?" Daenys muttered against Rhaenyra's gown.

"Princess Rhaenys called for them a few days" Daemon added with a faint smile.

Daenys clung to her sister a moment longer, heart full. Rhaenyra had always been a comfort, a gentleness her own mother rarely gave, and in that embrace Daenys felt at home.

When she drew back, her eyes flicked to Daemon, who raised a brow at her shy little wave. He chuckled, grinning as if he knew a secret.

And then Jace of four and ten was there. Taller than she remembered, his curls shining, his boyishness softened into something finer, older. Daenys's cheeks warmed as her eyes caught his, and quickly she lowered her gaze, dipping into a small bow.

Jace returned it with surprising grace, his lips brushing the back of her hand when he took it. "Princess," he said softly, his voice deeper now.

Daenys's breath caught. She withdrew her hand too quickly, fumbling for a shy smile as heat bloomed in her face.

She turned on her heel, hurrying back to the safety of Luke and Daeron, who were still laughing at some joke of boyhood. Her heart, however, beat fast and uneven, and she dared not meet Jace's gaze again.

The sound of another carriage rolling into the courtyard drew everyone's eyes. The horses slowed, their breath misting in the crisp air, and the door creaked open.

A pale figure stepped down with the help of a septa a girl grown into womanhood, her hair silver-white and plaited in a simple style. A modest gown of pale lavender, embroidered delicately with small seven-pointed stars, marked her as one who had spent her years within sept walls.

"Helaena..." Daenys whispered, her heart leaping.

Without hesitation, she darted forward, skirts fluttering. "Helaena!"

The older princess blinked at her sudden approach, her soft mouth parting in surprise. Helaena had never liked to be touched everyone in the family knew it. But when Daenys threw her arms around her, burying her face in her sister's shoulder, Helaena didn't flinch. Instead, she wrapped her arms gently around her younger sister, holding her close in a way she would never allow anyone else.

"Daenys," Helaena murmured softly, her voice as fragile as glass but threaded with warmth. "You've grown."

Her arms wound around her younger sister's waist, holding her close. "Little flower," she murmured, her voice airy, like a whisper caught in wind.

Daenys pulled back just enough to smile up at her, her eyes glimmering. "So have you. But you look the same. Just... prettier. I've missed you so much."

Helaena stroked her sister's hair in small, hesitant motions, the way she used to when Daenys was very small and frightened of the dark. "I dreamed of you often," she said in her odd, lilting way. "Always in the gardens... with the bees. They follow you, you know. Because you're gentle."

Daenys pulled back slightly, searching her sister's face with a tender smile. "You're here now. That's all that matters."

Behind them, Daeron laughed softly, shaking his head. "Gods, Daenys, you're going to suffocate her."

But even he smiled, watching the two sisters cling to each other. It was rare to see Helaena embrace anyone rarer still to see her glow so warmly.

From the carriage steps, the septa hovered anxiously, clearly reluctant to let her charge wander too far. Helaena, however, ignored her, keeping her arm linked with Daenys as though she had no intention of letting go.

For a moment, Daenys felt shielded. Between Luke, Daeron, Rhaenyra's warmth, and now Helaena's soft presence, the cold distance of her mother seemed far away. She leaned into her sister, breathing in the faint scent of lavender clinging to her gown, and whispered, "I'm so glad you came home."

Helaena only smiled faintly, her eyes wandering skyward where the gulls wheeled overhead, and said softly, "Home is where you are. Now show me the flowers."

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

THE SEPT
The bells of the sept rang across King's Landing, their solemn chimes echoing down into the streets. The city gathered in clusters to whisper of the spectacle: the long-awaited marriage between Prince Aegon Targaryen and his sister Princess Aenora. A union steeped in Valyrian custom, yet cloaked in the piety of the Faith of the Seven a compromise, as so many things had to be under King Viserys's reign.

Inside the sept, the air was heavy with incense, golden smoke curling toward the tall vaulted ceilings. Tapestries of the Seven hung along the walls, though the Targaryens had insisted upon weaving in silken banners of red and black the three-headed dragon shimmering defiantly in the candlelight.

Alicent sat in the front pew beside her husband, her face schooled into calm composure though her hands were knotted in her lap. Viserys leaned heavily upon his cane, looking older than he ever had, his eyes watery but determined to see his children wed.

Daenys lingered a few steps behind her mother, pale with awe as she gazed at her sister. Aenora stood at the sept's doors, radiant in a gown of red silk threaded with green and gold, her bodice stitched with dragon motifs, her long silver hair braided with crimson ribbons. Despite her sharp tongue and haughty air, her hands trembled faintly as she clutched her bouquet.

Across the sept, Aegon waited with a half-smile that was more smirk than serenity, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight streaming through stained glass. His cloak of black velvet lined with crimson was slung over one shoulder, a dragon's clasp pinning it into place. He looked both smug and restless, though he stood straighter when the Septon lifted his hands to begin.

The Seven-pointed Star was placed upon the altar. A hush fell over the gathered court.

"Who comes before the Father, to be wed?" the Septon's voice rang clear.

"I do," Aegon said, his tone loud, confident even a touch mocking.

"And who comes before the Mother, to be wed?"

"I do," Aenora answered, her voice softer but steady.

The Septon raised his hands over them, intoning prayers to each of the Seven in turn. As he spoke, the light through the stained glass windows painted their silver hair in hues of emerald and ruby, as though even the gods themselves could not decide whether to bless or curse this union.

Daenys clasped her hands to her chest, watching with wide eyes. She could see the stiffness in Aenora's jaw, the flicker of impatience in Aegon's eyes. And yet, beneath it all, there was something solemn, something inevitable.

When the time came, a long silk ribbon crimson, black, and green woven together was brought forth. The Septon wound it around Aegon's and Aenora's joined hands. "Under the eyes of gods and men, I bind these two as one. One flesh. One heart. One soul. Now and forever."

The words echoed. For a moment, even Aegon looked serious. Aenora inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening on his.

"Let it be known," the Septon finished, "that Prince Aegon and Princess Aenora are wed. May the Father guide them, the Mother protect them, and the Warrior defend their union."

A roar of trumpets filled the sept. Nobles rose to their feet in applause, though whispers already stirred among them of Valyrian incest and the brazenness of Targaryen ways.

Daenys's throat swelled with pride and sorrow all at once. Her sister her sharp, proud, untouchable sister looked almost vulnerable as Aegon leaned in to kiss her before the crowd. Daenys clutched Helaena's hand tightly, and her older sister squeezed it back, her eyes unfocused but her lips curved in a faint, dreamy smile.

The wedding was done. The feast, the bedding, the chaos would follow. But in that moment, beneath the painted light of the Seven and the banners of the dragon, the Targaryens bound themselves ever tighter in their strange, blazing traditions.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

THE RED KEEP
The great hall of the Red Keep blazed with light. Chandeliers dripped with hundreds of candles, golden flames glittering against the banners of House Targaryen and the long green silks Queen Alicent had ordered hung between them. Musicians struck their strings, filling the room with bright, triumphant melodies. Platters of roast swan, venison, and lemon cakes were carried past, but all eyes fixed on the couple who stood in the middle of the floor.

Prince Aegon and Princess Aenora began the feast with their dance.

Aegon moved lazily at first, smirking at his bride as though daring her to falter.
Aenora lifted her chin, silver hair swaying with every turn, her red-and-green skirts whispering across the stone floor. The crowd murmured with approval at the beauty of the sight brother and sister, dragon and dragoness, twirling in defiance of both Faith and custom.

"You're not half bad at this," Aegon teased under his breath as he spun her.

Aenora smirked back, her voice sharp but low enough for only him. "You're stepping on my skirts, you oaf."

He chuckled, leaning in so close their foreheads almost touched. "Ah, but you love me for it."

"Love is a strong word," she quipped, though her lips curved despite herself.
The music quickened. Aegon swept her into a turn that made the guests gasp, the ribbons at her waist spinning like flames. By the time the final note rang, they stood close, breath mingling, her hand gripping his shoulder, his fingers splayed against her back.

The hall erupted into applause.
Aegon grinned wickedly, bowing extravagantly before Aenora before tugging her hand and leading her back toward the high table. She rolled her eyes but followed, her cheeks faintly flushed.

At the table, Aegon collapsed into his chair, pulling Aenora down beside him. He stole her goblet before she could drink, raising it to his lips.

"That's mine," Aenora protested, elbowing him.

"Everything that is yours is mine now, wife," he drawled with mock gravity, pressing a sloppy kiss against her cheek.

She wrinkled her nose but didn't push him away. "Seven save me. I've married a drunk."

"Not yet," Aegon said, already pouring himself another cup. "But give me an hour." He winked, leaning in to steal a proper kiss this time, bold in front of the court.

Aenora smacked his arm lightly, though her laughter betrayed her. "You're insufferable."

"And you're beautiful," he said, half teasing, half genuine, his eyes lingering on her.

Daenys, seated further down the table between Daeron and Helaena, watched with wide eyes. She wasn't sure if she found their closeness sweet or unsettling. Beside her, Daeron leaned in and muttered with a smirk, "I give it three days before she threatens to strangle him."

Daenys stifled a laugh, nudging him with her elbow.

The music swelled as Lucerys stepped forward, bowing low with the practiced elegance of a young lord. "Nyssi," he said, voice low but full of warmth, "would you honor me with this dance?"

Daenys's violet eyes widened, and a smile broke across her face, lighting it like morning sun. "Of course, Lulu," she said, curtsying slightly before letting him take her hand.

Aemond, standing near the refreshments, noticed immediately. His purple eye darkened as he watched them move toward the dance floor, Daenys laughing softly at something Luke had whispered. He tensed, gripping his cup a little too tightly, the wine sloshing against the rim.

On the dance floor, Luke guided her gently, stepping with precision yet careful not to overshadow her. "I've been growing dragon's breath in the courtyard," Daenys murmured, her head tilting slightly to catch the glow of the chandelier on Luke's brown eyes.

"Dragon's breath?" he repeated, smiling. "Are they the red ones?"

She nodded eagerly, eyes bright. "Yes, and they're supposed to bring happiness and joy. I thought I'd plant some along the walk by the gardens so anyone who passes will smile."

Luke laughed softly, glancing at Aemond across the hall. The older boy's glare was unmistakable, and for the first time in years, Luke saw the shadow of jealousy cloud Daenys's brother's face. He smirked to himself, tightening his arm slightly around Daenys's waist as she leaned her head on his shoulder, trusting him completely.

"You're happy, aren't you?" Luke whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"I am," she said, nuzzling closer. "I love the flowers... I love dancing with you... I'm... I'm glad you're here, Lulu."

Luke's heart swelled. "I'm glad too, Nyssi. I'll always love you," he said, not noticing how his words carried more weight than a child should.

From the sidelines, Aemond's hands flexed, the cup in his grip creaking. He caught Aegon's eyes, and the older prince chuckled, loud enough for Aenora to hear.

"Looks like our little Aemond has a crush," Aegon said, voice dripping with amusement.

Aenora laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "Finally noticing what everyone else has been seeing!" she added, leaning toward him teasingly.

Aemond's face reddened, his jaw tightening. "You're fools," he muttered, scoffing, but his gaze never left the pair on the dance floor.

On the dance floor, Luke pulled Daenys just slightly closer, his protective instinct flaring even in the middle of a simple dance.

"You don't need to worry," Luke murmured against her hair. "I've got you."

Daenys closed her eyes briefly, savoring the moment. The music, the lights, the warmth of her best friend by her side it all felt safe, like a small bubble in the chaotic world around them. Aemond's glare didn't even touch her; to her, there was only Luke.

And for now, that was enough.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

GODSWOOD
The night was quiet in the Godswood, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. The stars shimmered above like scattered diamonds, and the scent of pine and damp earth mingled in the air. Daenys and Luke slipped through the castle gates unnoticed, hands brushing until they intertwined naturally. They found the old tree near the heart of the woods, its trunk wide and gnarled, and leaned against it together. Daenys rested her head against Luke's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

"Daenys," Luke said suddenly, his voice low and strange in the quiet.

Daenys stiffened, lifting her head to look at him. His brown eyes were serious, almost grave, and it made her stomach twist. "Lulu...?" she asked softly, confused.

Luke shifted slightly, causing her to move with him, and exhaled in a long, shaky breath. "I... I have to tell you something, Nyssi," he murmured, using her nickname now, voice almost breaking.

Daenys swallowed, nodding slowly. "Okay," she whispered, her hand tightening around his.

He drew in another breath and looked out at the stars for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "Jace and I... we're going to join my grandsire, Lord Corlys Velaryon... in the war in the Stepstones in a few days."

The words hit her like a wave, cold and heavy. Her eyes widened, and a tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. "W-why?" she murmured, shaking her head. Her voice trembled, small and desperate.

Luke's chest ached, and he felt the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes too. "It's my duty, Nyssi," he said softly, his hand brushing a lock of hair from her face. "As heir to Driftmark, I... I have to go. But I promise... everything will be alright."

Daenys shook her head violently, her soft hands clutching his tunic. "What if you die, Lulu? What if... what if you don't come back?" Her voice cracked, and more tears slipped freely down her cheeks.

Luke cupped her face gently, thumbs brushing along her jaw as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers. "I will not die, Nyssi," he murmured, the firmness in his voice masking his own fear. "I swear it. I will come back to you. I will live... I will love you... forever."

Daenys blinked against her tears, her lips trembling. "Forever?" she whispered.

"Yes, forever," Luke replied, his own tears sliding down unnoticed, his hands holding her face as if he could shield her from the thought of losing him. "And when I come back... nothing will take me from you again."

Daenys pressed herself into him, wrapping her arms around his torso and burrowing her face into his shoulder. "I love you, Lulu... so much," she murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric of his tunic.

Luke pressed a kiss to her shoulder, another to her cheek, then softly on her temple, murmuring against her hair. "I love you too, Nyssi... always, I promise," he whispered.

They stayed like that for a long while, the night wrapping around them, two best friends holding onto each other in the stillness, sharing their unspoken fears and promises.

When they finally pulled back slightly, Daenys's eyes shone with certainty through the tears. "When you come back, Lulu... I will marry you," she said, small but unwavering. "So you'll never leave me again. I won't let you."

Luke let out a soft laugh, the sound mingled with tears and relief. "I promise, Nyssi. And I'll keep that promise. No matter what happens, I'll come back... and then... then you and I will never be apart."

Daenys smiled through her tears, resting her head back against him. "I'll wait for you," she whispered.

"And I'll come back," Luke said, tightening his arms around her once more.

The wind rustled above them, the stars watching silently, witnesses to their vow, their love, and their friendship that could weather even the looming storm of war.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

I LOVE THIS STORY😭 I HOPE I WROTE THE WEDDING RIGHT SINCE IDK SO MUCH ABOUT ALICENT'S CHURCH PREFERENCES. (lmao)
LUKE AND DAENYS ARE ADORABLE (wait till she doesn't come back from Storm's End girlie) ALSO NO WH*RES OR MYAS HERE (we don't fw b!t he's from free cities in this fic💀)