Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 73

Two days later, Aenyra stood rooted on the shore, her eyes locked on the dark shape swelling against the horizon. A ship with its sails billowing, cutting through the spray, and upon it, a man thought to be lost to the sea.

Against all odds, Corlys lived.

Rumor had both whispered survival and death, but now the truth came barreling toward her across the waves. He had endured what should have been certain death: his throat slit open, blood spilling into the salt; a sword cleaving deep through his left shoulder. His body had been cast into the merciless ocean, swallowed by the abyss. Yet he had not died.

Dragged half-conscious from the black water by the loyal hands of his crew, he had clung to life with a will as iron as the sea itself. They carried him to Essos, where he lingered between this world and the next for months, fighting through agony, his body knitting itself back together.

And now—he was coming home.

She stood at the water's edge now , watching intently as the ship dropped its anchor. She felt a mixture of anticipation and excitement as she awaited the rowboat's arrival. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted her mother Rhaenyra, along with Jacaerys and Helena, gathered at the top of the stairs, she couldn't make out their expressions. Her gaze then shifted to Rhaenys and Baela, who approached from the rear, eventually standing beside her. Baela lingered slightly apart, positioning herself just to the side of Rhaenys.

The air was still for a moment, filled only with the sound of crashing waves and the cries of seagulls soaring above.

Aenyra turned to look at Rhaenys, then back at the swiftly approaching rowboat.

"He's been gone for quite some time, hasn't he?" Aenyra observed.

"Yes, he has." Rhaenys replied softly. Aenyra struggled to read her grandmother's emotions; her face was a mask, revealing nothing of the true feelings beneath.

"Do you think he'll be different?" Aenyra asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "After everything that's happened?"

Rhaenys stared out at the horizon, her gaze focused on the approaching boat as if searching for answers in the rolling waves. "War and battles change people, my dear. You should know that from past experiences. It tests their mettle, reshapes their ideals. But Corlys is a man of resilience. Though he may bear the scars of what he's endured, I believe his spirit will remain unbroken."

Aenyra nodded, though unease lingered in her heart. She admired her grandsire immensely—the legendary Sea Snake, known for his wisdom and courage. Yet the thought of the horrors he must have faced weighed heavily on her mind.

As the rowboat finally touched the shore, a wave of excitement washed over Aenyra. She could see figures emerging, shadows against the brightening dawn. The moment had come.

"Ready yourself, child," Rhaenys advised, a hint of warmth returning to her voice. "No matter what has transpired, we must welcome him home with open hearts."

Aenyra took a deep breath, steadying herself. She watched as Corlys climbed out of the boat, weathered but alive, a testament to his indomitable spirit. As he stepped onto the sand, she felt a rush of emotions swirl within her.

He greeted them with a smile, one that she had seen many times before, and in that moment, she felt grateful that it had remained unchanged. Baela was the first to dash forward, enveloping him in a warm hug. Rhaenys smiled at the sight, and as Baela stepped back, Corlys turned his attention to his wife.

Aenyra observed the tender exchange between them, their longing gazes speaking volumes before they embraced, tightening her heart at the intimacy of the moment.