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THEFESTIVAL of the Father was in full swing, the Red Keep alive with music, laughter, and the vibrant colors of banners waving in the breeze. Eleanor moved gracefully through the crowds, her long silver hair braided back, shimmering under the sun. It had been weeks since the tension between her and Daemon, and now everything was back to normal. Their bond, as deep as the day they were born, had withstood the storm once again.
Eleanor caught sight of Daemon from across the courtyard. He was standing with a group of knights, laughing, his eyes bright with mischief. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched him. The weight of their recent quarrels had long lifted, and now, things felt right again—like they always should have.
She made her way through the festivities, the sounds of lutes and drums filling the air. As she approached, Daemon turned, his violet eyes meeting hers instantly, as if he'd known she was there all along.
"Eleanor," he said with that familiar smirk, stepping away from the group. "I was just about to come find you."
"And miss all of this?" she teased, gesturing to the bustling festival around them. "Hardly seems like you."
Daemon chuckled, falling into step beside her as they walked through the crowd. Everything felt easy, natural again. The quiet storm between them had passed, leaving only their unbreakable bond behind. As Eleanor and Daemon walked side by side through the festival grounds, the energy of the celebration buzzed around them. Children ran through the streets, their laughter mingling with the music, while vendors called out to passersby, offering roasted meats, fresh fruits, and trinkets. Bright streamers and lanterns hung from every corner, the colors a stark contrast to the usual somber tones of the Red Keep.
Eleanor inhaled deeply, the scent of spiced wine and baked bread filling the air. She looked sideways at Daemon, his expression light, as if the weight he usually carried had momentarily been lifted. It had been so long since she had seen him this relaxed.
"Do you remember the last Father's Day festival?" Eleanor asked, her voice filled with nostalgia. "We snuck away from the crowd and went down to the shores. You convinced me to ride Azeas across the bay."
Daemon smirked, a glint of mischief lighting his eyes. "And you swore never to ride a dragon after a feast again. Something about wine and dragon wings not mixing well."
She laughed softly, remembering the chaos that had followed. They had nearly ended up in the water, both of them slightly tipsy and reckless, but it had been one of her fondest memories. Moments like that, where they felt free from the expectations of court and family, were rare.
"I wasn't wrong," she said with a grin. "But it was fun."
Daemon turned to her, his voice softer now, almost serious. "We could go again. Leave this all behind for a few hours."
Eleanor met his gaze, and for a moment, the noise of the festival seemed to fade into the background. There was something in the way he looked at her, something that felt different than before. It was as if he were offering her a fleeting escape, a chance to forget the burdens of being Targaryens, if only for a little while.
