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THESUN dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the coastline, where the waves kissed the shore with gentle fervor. Eleanor Targaryen stood alone, her bare feet sinking into the cool, wet sand as she gazed out at the vast expanse of the sea. A soft breeze tugged at her hair, sending strands whipping around her face like wild flames. She inhaled deeply, the salty air filling her lungs, a temporary reprieve from the weight pressing down on her heart.
At her side lay Azeas, her dragon, his scales shimmering in the fading light like molten gold. Eleanor reached out to him, her fingers brushing against the warmth of his hide, feeling a surge of comfort from his presence. Azeas turned his head slightly, nuzzling her hand with a gentleness that belied his immense size. In his eyes, she found understanding and solace, a refuge from the world that felt increasingly heavy on her shoulders.
As the waves lapped at the shore, Eleanor allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She had always felt the storm within her—the clash of duty and desire, the pull of tradition against the yearning for freedom. Here, with Azeas, she could unravel those thoughts, speaking her truth without fear of judgment. "I wish things could be different," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wish I could be free of this weight."
Azeas tilted his head, his eyes watching her intently, as if he understood every word. She sighed, feeling the tension within her begin to ease. "It's just... I feel trapped, Azeas. There's so much expected of me, and all I want is to live—to love without boundaries." She leaned against him, the warmth radiating from his body a balm to her troubled soul. "I don't want to be just a pawn in this game."
As the sun sank lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Eleanor closed her eyes, letting the sounds of the sea wash over her. The ocean's roar mingled with the distant cries of seabirds, creating a symphony that resonated deep within her. Azeas shifted beside her, curling his tail protectively around her, providing a sense of security that she desperately needed.
In the distance, she saw a figure approaching—a silhouette against the backdrop of the dying light. Her heart raced, recognizing the familiar gait. Daemon. As he drew closer, she felt a mix of relief and trepidation. She didn't want to burden him with her struggles, yet a part of her craved his presence.
"Eleanor," Daemon called, his voice cutting through the sound of the waves as he approached. "What are you doing out here alone?" His expression was a mix of concern and curiosity, and she could see the worry etched across his handsome features.
"I needed some time to think," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just me and Azeas."
Daemon's gaze flicked to the dragon, then back to her, searching for something beneath the surface. "You look troubled," he said softly, taking a step closer, his concern palpable. "Is everything alright?"
Eleanor hesitated, her heart racing at the thought of revealing her inner turmoil. But she couldn't bring herself to burden him with her worries—not when they had fought so hard to carve out their own secret world. "I'm fine, really," she assured him, the words feeling like a fragile lie. "Just enjoying the sunset."
