Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 20

Feeling the salty sea breeze tousle through her braid, Aenyra couldn't help the wave of relief that washed over her as the jagged silhouette of Dragonstone emerged through the mist. After the long, emotional journey from Winterfell—she was finally home.

Closing her eyes, she tilted her face toward the sky, letting the familiar warmth of the southern sun kiss her skin.

Landing on the familiar sands near the castle, Aenyra spotted Lucerys and Baela racing down the stone steps toward her.

She leapt gracefully from Cannibal's wings, landing lightly on the ground. The massive dragon nudged her affectionately with his snout before launching back into the sky, his shadow sweeping over them as he disappeared into the clouds.

"My gods, you two are a sight for sore eyes!" Aenyra cried, running straight into their open arms. The three of them embraced tightly, clinging to one another in a smothering hug full of laughter and relief.

"I've missed you so much, sister," Lucerys said, squeezing her hard before reluctantly letting go.

"We've missed you terribly!" Baela added, looping her arm through Aenyra's as they began the walk back to the castle. "It's been absolutely dull without you. I only had Luke and Jace to keep me entertained."

Aenyra laughed, her heart feeling lighter with every step they took toward home.

As they entered the council chamber, her mother looked up from the painted table, her eyes softening instantly.

"I must conclude today's council meeting. Everyone, you're dismissed," Rhaenyra said without hesitation. The room emptied quickly, and just as the last person stepped out, Aenyra rushed forward—throwing herself into her mother's arms, finally letting go of everything she had been holding in.

"Oh, my sweet child, how you have been missed," Rhaenyra murmured into her ear, holding her close with the fierce tenderness only a mother could give.

Aenyra spotted Daemon standing just off to the side, a rare smile tugging at his lips as he approached.

"Father!" she exclaimed, turning to him.

"Little Dragon," he said softly.

Without hesitation, Aenyra reached for him, pulling him into the embrace with Rhaenyra. For a moment, the world felt still—her heart swelling as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, grounding herself in the love and warmth of her parents' arms.

Rhaenyra eventually pulled back just enough to look at her daughter's face, brushing a loose strand of silver hair from her cheek.

"It's nearly time for supper," she said gently. "Why don't you go change and freshen up? Then you can tell us all about your time in Winterfell."

Aenyra nodded, her smile returning. "Of course, Mother."

With a final squeeze of Daemon's hand, she turned and made her way toward her chambers.

Walking into the familiar chill of her chambers, Aenyra let out a long breath before collapsing onto her bed. The scent of stone, salt, and old smoke clung to the air like a memory—every surface a piece of her childhood. She let her eyes drift shut, breathing in the comfort of home. And yet, despite the familiarity, something felt... different. The space hadn't changed, but she had.

A soft knock broke the silence.

She sat up slowly, brushing a few strands of wind-blown hair from her face as the door creaked open.

"Sister," came the tentative voice.

Jacaerys stepped inside, closing the door behind him with unusual care. He looked awkward, like a boy again—not the prince and warrior he'd grown into. His fingers twitched at his sides, his jaw clenched like he was holding in a dozen unsaid words.