Sacrifice | Daenerys Targaryen

-17-

The battle of Meereen continues on, leaving little time for rest through the night. And though battle plans are to be made, even the strongest of Queens need their breaks.

Grey Worm and the Unsullied have their duties to protect the pyramid, whilst Daenerys has her chambers emptied out so that she may have a moment with her Lyla.

The door to the chambers closes behind them, shutting out the clamor of war, leaving only the flickering candlelight and the warmth that seems to emanate from their entwined hands.

Daenerys and Lyla stand there for a moment, their eyes locked, absorbing the reality of being together again after weeks of separation. It's a surreal feeling, as if the world beyond these chambers doesn't exist, and time itself has frozen to allow this reunion to linger.

Without a word, Daenerys reaches up, her fingers gently tracing the curve of Lyla's cheek. The touch is tender, as if assuring herself that this is real, that Lyla is truly here. Lyla, in turn, leans into the touch, her eyes closing briefly to savor the sensation.

"Daenerys," Lyla breathes her name, a sigh of relief and longing combined.

The queen's gaze doesn't waver as she steps closer, the space between them narrowing until their breaths mingle. Lyla can feel the heat radiating from Daenerys, a comforting warmth that replaces the cold anxiety that had settled in her chest during those long weeks of separation.

And then, without a warning, Daenerys wraps her arms around Lyla, pulling her into a tight embrace. It's a hold that conveys a multitude of unspoken emotions — the fear of loss, the joy of reunion, the weight of responsibilities momentarily lifted. Lyla responds in kind, her arms winding around Daenerys as she buries her face in the crook of her neck.

The scent of Daenerys is familiar and soothing, a combination of lavender and something uniquely her own. It's a scent that has lingered in Lyla's memory, a scent that now feels like a lifeline in the chaos that surrounds them.

They stand there, locked in an embrace that transcends words, each heartbeat echoing the profound connection between them. The world outside might be tearing itself apart, but in this small pocket of reality, there is peace. There is solace in the arms of the one they've fought for, the one they've sacrificed for.

As they pull back slightly, Daenerys cups Lyla's face in her hands. There's a magnetic pull between them, and their lips meet in a soft, longing kiss. It's a kiss that tastes of both desperation and fulfillment, a kiss that says, I've missed you, and, I'm never letting you go again.

Their kiss deepens, fueled by the hunger of weeks of separation. It's a dance of lips and tongues, a dance that speaks of love and passion. The worries of Meereen, the battles yet to be fought, all fade into the background as they lose themselves in each other.

They break the kiss, foreheads resting against each other. Daenerys looks into Lyla's eyes, her gaze unwavering.

"I thought I might never see you again," She admits, her voice a mixture of vulnerability and relief.

Lyla brushes a strand of silver hair away from Daenerys' face, her touch feather-light.

Daenerys' eyes sparkle with unshed tears, "You are my anchor, Lyla."

Lyla leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Daenerys' forehead, "And you're my fire, my strength."

They stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in the midst of the turmoil. Outside these chambers, Meereen may be a city at war, but within, there's a sanctuary where love prevails. The battles can wait; for now, Daenerys and Lyla revel in the simple joy of being together again, their hearts beating as one.