⸻ ( Daemon Targaryen )
She comes like rain, soft and gentle, upon his cheeks. The taste of summer snow and enduring love, like a declaration of war upon fate.
( house of the dragon ) • 2022
( editing in progress )
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LYRA opened her viridescent green eyes to a stream of golden sunlight and glistening silver. Violet amethyst gazed back at her under heavily lidded eyes and she smiled endearingly. Daemon brushed her dark hair from her face, lips curving in reciprocation.
"Good morrow," he murmured.
"Wake up, husband," she said, "today is a big day for you."
He hummed in response before leaning forward to kiss her lips. Lyra felt her heart sing with love as she caressed his cheek gently. It was an important day indeed, one that would mark a change for the entire realm as well as their future.
They got up from the bed together and went to wash themselves before the servants entered their bedchamber. Her handmaidens placed screens across the middle of the room to protect her modesty while the male servants helped Daemon to dress for the ceremony.
Lyra changed into a beautiful silver dress with sequined embroidery of a dragon along its bodice. The sleeves and hem were encrusted with a dusting of tiny sapphires that weighed heavily over her limbs. She then had her raven hair done in intricate braids coiled above her head with silver ornamental pins.
Once she was ready, the handmaidens brought the screens away. Daemon stood in front of a long looking glass wearing a black surcoat that was embroidered with thick golden thread along the hems and buttons. Around his shoulders was a thick black cloak that was lined with red sik inside and black felt around the edges.
"You look very handsome," she complimented as he adjusted the collar around his neck.
He looked at her through the reflection and smirked. "When have I not?" he responded cheekily.
Lyra rolled her eyes as she approached him. She adjusted the cloak's golden clasps and smoothed the surcoat's folds. "I heard Hobert Hightower arrived yesterday evening."
Daemon grunted in approval. "As he should if he doesn't want to be charged with treason. I'm sure Otto Hightower is not that stupid."
"Well, just to be safe, I'll keep an eye on them," she said. "We wouldn't want a coup on our hands."
He grinned devilishly. "I'm sure neither Dark Sister nor I would mind the diversion."
She narrowed her eyes testily. "Daemon!" she admonished.
His laughter filled the air. He stroked her hair while placing a peck on the crown of her head. "Your will is my command, ñuha jorrāelagon."
Even after so many years, he was still as insufferable as the first day she met him. Lyra took him by the arm and steered him towards the door. "Come, you mustn't be late for your own ceremony."
