Targaryens are known to have queer costumes, an unusual tradition in which the brother and sister wed each other in order to secure the line of succession as pure as possible. Well, it is not always the Targaryens that have such habits, who says tha...
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~129 A.C~
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
DRAGONSTONE The halls of Dragonstone stirred with the murmur of feet and voices, a low and growing thunder echoing from the beach below.
Vellena was roused from slumber not by sunlight but by the subtle, unfamiliar noise—waves breaking beneath a chorus of voices, boats grinding softly onto sand, dozens—no, hundreds—of feet shuffling across the volcanic shore.
She blinked sleep from her eyes and sat up, hair cascading over her bare shoulders, her nightgown thin and caught in the early wind. Without hesitation, she rushed to the balcony. The morning air bit cold against her skin, but the sight before her burned like wildfire in her chest.
They were coming. Hundreds—no, thousands—climbing the slopes to the castle: young men with braids of silver-white hair, older women with storm-grey cloaks and the eyes of dragonlords long buried, children clutching one another's hands. And at the front, Lyra and Bennar—dust-covered and weary, but alive and triumphant.
Vellena's breath caught in her throat. Then joy burst through her like flame from a dragon's mouth.
"Jace!" she cried, loud, ecstatic, before spinning away from the stone rail and sprinting back inside, bare feet slapping against cold stone.
"Jace! JACEEEE!" Her voice rang through the halls, full of laughter, raw and delighted like it had not been in moons.
She didn't even knock when she burst into his chambers. Jace, just stepping away from his own balcony, was shirtless but for a thin white tunic, his brown curls still tousled with sleep.
"Vellena?" he said, blinking, confused.
Before he could say more, Vellena leapt into his arms, sending them both toppling to the floor. A surprised laugh escaped Jace's throat as he caught her, breaking their fall with his body.
"Are you alright?" he asked between chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Vellena pushed up, breathless with joy, straddling his lap. "You did it! They are here! Lyra and Bennar brought them!" Her voice was alight with pride and disbelief.
Jace's lips curved into a wide, relieved smile, his hands settling at her waist, fingers lightly grazing the fabric of her nightgown. "We did it, Vel. Ao se issa." (You and me)
Vellena stilled. That name—Vel. He hadn't called her that since Lucerys died, since everything had started to burn and crack apart.
