"A dragon might not be the only thing you ride tonight."
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Where the Dance of Dragons is stopped before it truly begins-with Rhaenyra as the Heir to the Iron Throne, Daemon Targaryen decides to stick it to Alicent and Otto Hightower one last time...
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cardigan -taylor swift
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The next morning, Daenaera awoke on the bed. She was confused to how she got there, but one look towards Marcellus who was still sleeping in the chair in the corner and she knew he had moved her.
She didn't know what she did to warrant such kindness from a man who hardly knew her and she him. But she was still grateful that he had brought her to town as he promised.
Now...she had to go before she caused him anymore strife.
Her eyes softened at him briefly, before she stood up from the bed.
She quietly slipped on her shoes and cloak, giving Marcellus one last glance before heading for the door to leave.
Marcellus opened his eyes, having slept deeply that night, and was surprised when he opened his eyes to see her slip on her shoes.
He sat up and watched as she tip-toed to the door, and he realized then that he does not want her to leave, not even a bit.
"Where do you think you're going?" He called, the exhaustion in his voice apparent as he spoke, and he stood up from the chair and walked over to the door, blocking the way.
"Marcellus..." She blushed, looking away sheepishly. "...I just...was going to head out. Leave you be?"
He stared at her in shock. "Stay," he said abruptly as he looked at her again, a firm look on his face. "I want you to stay with me. I do not want you to leave so soon."
"I cannot simply stay with you," Daenaera said sadly. "You are a kind and honorable man, but, if anyone were to find out who I was..." Her words trailed off.
"Who you were?" His brow raised slightly, though his expression softened a bit as he realized the fear behind those words. "Are you worried of others finding out your title?"
He was unsure if she means if people found out her true identity that she'd be taken advantage of again, or if the prince would send men after her for abandoning him.
Daenaera bit her lip, staring down at her fingers as she fiddled with the laces at the front of her dress.
"I do not wish to see you hurt," She told him.
His eyes narrow slightly, and he looked down at her fingers where she picked the skin around the bed of her nails. He found this habit of hers to be endearing in some way. It's almost child-like, and he almost wants to take her hands in his own.
