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THEJOURNEY to Winterfell was surprisingly peaceful, a rare blessing in the chaotic world of the Targaryens. The carriage rocked gently on the uneven dirt roads, the rhythmic clatter of hooves and wheels filling the air as they traversed vast landscapes. Rolling hills gave way to dense forests, their trees standing tall and proud, whispering secrets of old. In the distance, Eleanor could see the first hints of snow-covered peaks, a reminder of the North's enduring strength.
But despite the beauty surrounding them, the past month had strained the bond between Eleanor and Daemon. The presence of their family loomed over them like a shadow, making it nearly impossible to steal moments alone. They had exchanged fleeting glances and whispered jokes during the day, but the warmth of their connection felt distant, as if it had been buried under layers of obligation and expectation. Eleanor felt a pang of longing each time she caught Daemon's eye across the crowded campfire, knowing he shared her frustration but unable to voice it in front of their family.
On the final day of their journey, the air was crisp and filled with the scent of pine as they approached Winterfell. Eleanor sat in the carriage, her thoughts swirling like the leaves caught in the breeze outside. The windows were slightly fogged from her breath, reflecting her inner turmoil. She leaned her head against the cool wood, staring out into the vastness of the North, her heart heavy with the realization that this journey was coming to an end. Just as she resigned herself to the thought of returning to their roles as dutiful children, the carriage door swung open, and Daemon stepped inside.
His presence filled the small space, and for a moment, the world outside faded away. He looked different—his hair tousled by the wind, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold—but it was the intensity in his eyes that made her heart race. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, a hint of mischief playing on his lips.
Eleanor couldn't help but smile, her spirits lifting at the sight of him. "I thought you'd be with the knights, preparing for the grand entrance."
Daemon shrugged, sliding in beside her, the warmth radiating off him like a balm for her soul. "I missed you," he admitted, his voice low. "And I thought perhaps a moment away from prying eyes wouldn't hurt."
Eleanor's heart swelled at his words, a flush of warmth spreading through her. "You missed me?" she echoed, tilting her head slightly to meet his gaze, searching for sincerity. "It felt like you've been miles away these past few weeks."
"I know," he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "With everyone around, it's been impossible to talk, let alone be... us. I've missed our time together—the laughter, the planning, even the mischief we get into."
She chuckled softly, her heartache momentarily forgotten. "I miss our snowball fights in the courtyard. You always cheated, using magic to keep me from hitting you."
A smile broke through Daemon's serious facade, and the warmth of their shared memories enveloped them like a comforting blanket. "I had to protect my title as champion," he teased, leaning slightly closer. "You were a fierce opponent, after all."
