Chapter Text
A Weirwood and A Sunset
Yara and Theon stood at bow of Great Kraken watching the men load her with supplies for their journey, attempting to keep their minds on anything and everything to avoid the lingering talk.
“So…”
“Theon, you are my brother and I love you. But if you say a word , I can and will kill you” Yara nodded towards one of the men walking past her carrying winter cloaks, not needing to look at his brother to know he had an ear to ear smile on his face.
“It seems like you stole all of uncle Euron’s plan” his teasing was said with a small sing-song tune, pacing away from his sister to avoid any retaliation “you’re making the family proud, with such a beautiful wife-to-be”
Yara reached to punch her brother’s shoulder, but ultimately decided to hold back. He was right after all, she did land a wife the people of the seven kingdoms would be jealous of.
“You’re sure you are clear to go back alone?” the actual reason Yara was on board The Great Kraken made Theon smile, she would not stop protecting him, even if she had to use the excuse of her impending nuptials to make sure he was safe “Would you feel safer if I came with you?”
“Your place is here, at the queen’s side” Theon smiled at his sister cheekily “it doesn’t look good, to get betrothed and then run away to the other end of the world to meet someone else” Yara shook her head, knowing this was her brother’s way of dealing with the anxiety of returning to Winterfell “I will have an easier chance of making my way to Winterfell if there are less people with me”
“Will you find a way to send word once you’ve arrived?”
“It will take me awhile to get there, by then they will have a ravenry prepared, I can send news with a merchant if I have to” the Greyjoy siblings sighed with the weight of the true trepidation dangling between them “He is dead, Sansa and Jon are not Boltons, they will at least listen to what I have to say”
“It is not them that worry me” there wasn’t much love lost for the Greyjoys in the North. The possibility that Theon would be once more shipped to her in pieces gave her chills and almost drove her to beg Daenerys to send someone, anyone, even though he really was the only one who could do this properly “Safe travels Theon. I need you for this battle, so I am giving you leave to go and return as soon as your mission is done”
“As you wish your grace” he bowed far lower than necessary, and with a small spring in his step walked towards the cabin of the ship, leaving Yara to walk off the ship by herself.
Yara’s gaze lingered on the kraken carved into the door before turning to stare at the blue expanse that her brother would face at nightfall. Much of the area surrounding Meereen had been occupied by ships and construction, taking away from Yara’s favorite sight, the sun shimmering on the nearly unbroken blue of the sea. For a woman who had been born and raised by the sea, it felt like blasphemy to cover it up with anything, and she knew her men shared the sentiment; more than once she had seen them drinking at the bows of their ships, watching the sun disappear on the horizon. It was the most sensitive thing any ironborn would be caught dead doing.
-oOoOo-
“Your majesty, you called?” Tyrion stuck his head in the cabin, followed by the ever present Greyworm. Daenerys was staring intently at the map in front of her, and would have missed their entrance if not for the squeaking of the chair next to her as Tyrion moved it back.
“Tyrion, yes, I have a proposition that I believe only you can help me with” Tyrion sat on his chair, waiting for the queen to inquire at her own pace. In his own mind he wondered why he, a man who could admit his military experience was basic at best, had been called to look at the map with their battle plans “What castle is here?”
Tyrion leaned in to get a better look at what Daenerys was pointing at. An area that connected the Crownlands, the Western Lands and the Riverlands, one that had been contested in the years after the landing of Aegon by the Wardens of the West and the lords of the riverlands.
“Nothing my queen, it is a field” Try as he might, he could not figure out why Dany had questions about such a random spot in all of Westeros. One that could not get them any tactical advantage, and if it could it would not be easily accessible from their ships “May I ask why the interest in the area?”
Dany did not pay him any mind. Her purple eyes were dragging over the area with interest, pondering the possibilities. Her hand reached out for the crowned dragon at the top of the map and placed it gingerly on the rather smooth area of the wooden carvings. Tyrion drummed his fingers, trying to find how or why that was something that would help them in the already hairy matter of conquering the Seven Kingdoms. Before he could ask, Dany reached back for another figure, this time the crowned Kraken, placing it with the dragon.
“If we conquer Westeros we must start anew” Dany whispered, not taking her eyes of the area “Aegon Targaryen didn’t find King’s Landing constructed when he first landed in Westeros, and I will not either. King’s Landing was for the Targaryen’s of old, I am bringing a new age for the Seven Kingdoms”
“Your Grace?”
“The Queen’s Keep sounds much more fitting to my rule” Dany took a piece of charcoal next to her to outline the map. The area of the Stoney sept, the lower end of the riverlands and a large chunk of the crownlands were marked, with the dragon and kraken in the middle.
It all suddenly clicked for Tyrion, in the most unlikely of ways. The Baratheon stag tipped over when Daenerys outlined the map, as did one of the lions in the westerlands, and that was enough to understand. The area that the Targaryen Dragon and the Greyjoy Kraken now occupied, were exactly the equal distance between King’s Landing and Pyke.
-oOoOo-
“Never let it be said dwarfs are not ambitious”
Varys was leaning back against the chair, his hand preoccupied with a small fan; the heat did not agree with him, and today was particularly trying. That was made worse by the ambitious Lannister passing down the queen’s plans to him, trying to sound them out with another man as smart as he.
“I wish it had been my idea” Tyrion offered a goblet of red wine to the man, taking a seat in front of him “Our Queen is keen on every detail being taken care of”
“A new castle, in the middle of disputed land, where the thrones will reside. Our Targaryen queen is remarkably clever”
“The thrones and the Queens” Tyrion reminded him after taking a rather large gulp from the goblet in his hands “It is nearly the perfect distance between King’s Landing and Pyke. It is also placed close enough to every kingdom, where Daenerys can oversee everything in her newly conquered lands, and have her consort at her side caring for her people”
“What did her consort say about this idea?” Varys always the clever man realized the answer when Tyrion smiled rather sheepishly “Ah. I see, you are letting the news be delivered by the person she will not say no to”
“Like you said, our Queen is very clever”
Varys placed his fan on the table, staring at Tyrion has it thudded softly “Was it your idea?”
“You said it best, she’s the only one that--”
“No. The marriage, was it your idea?” the master of whispers stared at Tyrion, waiting for him to give off any cue, he was not a complicated man to read in any case “The Queen is clever, but you are a sneaky man Tyrion. I still remember Myrcella’s betrothal to the Martell boy”
“You give me far too much credit Varys”
“I don’t give you enough, Tyrion. Daenerys Targaryen would be a boon to any family that could marry into her graces. Protecting her with a marriage to another powerful Queen, one with a usurper at her door like Daenerys was, that is your style. The fact that you’re sticking it to everyone in Westeros who looked down on you without them knowing is quite the idea”
Tyrion Lannister was a learned man, he knew that in the eyes of many, keeping quiet was better than accepting any guilt by talking. He also knew that Varys was a smart man, dare he think as smart as he was; and he also knew that Littlefinger was not the only man who carried the thought of only a fool would trust him. Only a fool would trust a spider, and Tyrion Lannister was no fool.
-oOoOo-
Daenerys ran her hands across the helm of Iron Dragon with quiet admiration, though much of the admiration laid on the woman that had gifted her it, and the funny quirks she had adopted from the Queen of the ironborn. Iron Dragon had been parked in exactly the right place to see the sun disappear below the blue horizon, giving the mountains a distinct red orange glow that did something to Daenerys, made her admire the world and its wonders just that much more.
“I see you’re taking the ironborn customs to heart my Queen” Daenerys turned slowly towards the familiar voice, a smirk on her face “the sunsets in your city are the only thing I can honestly admire”
“And here I was thinking it was the heat that warms you to the core that you loved” Yara laughed, enjoying Daenerys’ relaxed attitude. Not many people got to see this side of Daenerys Targaryen, that she would be able to see this everyday thanks to Tyrion’s brilliant scheme made it hard to dislike him, Lannister or otherwise “But I will admit this is something I can admire you tough armed ironborn for, your soft sensitive sides”
“Even warriors can admire the beauty of a sunset Daenerys” Yara’s hands locked behind her back as she paced around the deck “The sunset is only second to a different beauty, one ironborn too can admire”
“Yara Greyjoy you are becoming too charming for your own good” Dany shook her head, inviting her to watch the sunset “I have something to discuss with you”
“Last time you had a ‘thing to discuss with me’” Yara’s hands made quotes in the air, trying and failing to not come off as sarcastic “We ended up planning our wedding, I am afraid to hear your new proposition” Yara’s attempt of keeping the mood of the situation lively caused Daenerys to feel far more anxious than she had before, unsettling the ironborn “I’m just teasing you Dany, that is still one of the best decisions I have made since coming to Meereen”
“One of?” Dany reclined her hands on the rail behind the helm, but shook her head not waiting for an answer and needing to get the proposition off her chest “I realized that what I called a small technicality could be far more problematic”
“Is this about me not being able to live in King’s Landing?” the breeze gave Dany an added reason to sigh, the smell of salt and water had become something akin to a calming draught for her “Dany I…”
“Hear me out before you say anything” the Targaryen Queen turned towards her soon-to-be-consort, with a lot of trepidation “Yes this is about King’s Landing. What I am bringing to Westeros is not a rehash of the old Targaryen rule, it’s a rebirth. By the same logic, I believe King’s Landing carries too much of the legacy of the Targaryen’s, be it the good or bad, I bring a new age and--” the grey eye observing her softened, understanding that Daenerys was a nervous talker, and would beat around the bush but would still get to her point “--with that being said, I want to build a new palace, one in a different place with a chance to start anew”
Yara raised her hand to caress her upper arm softly, trying to give Dany the assurance that this would be discussed thoroughly, trying to rid her of her anxiety “What did you have in mind?”
“There is an area between the Western Lands, the Crownlands and the Riverlands that has been disputed since the time of Aegon, and is therefore free of any castles” Dany’s anxiety had receded much with Yara’s calming movements, knowing that after the initial pitch this part would be the easiest and possibly the one she would accept much faster “It is the closest I could find to the equal distance between King’s Landing, the city I will be tied to until all commerce can be transferred, and Pyke”
The soothing movement stopped at the mention of Pyke; what to Daenerys might have been interpreted as a bad sign was actually the best sign of all. Yara’s movements stopped as the thoughts in her mind began racing, her problem was how to react in a way Daenerys would understand how incredibly touched she was by her actions. It was no secret she was not the best person at expressing her feelings, her harsh upbringing was responsible for that, and at the moment she believed that Daenerys’ thoughtful actions deserved an appropriate response.
“Yara… This is still not set in stone we can--” Yara smashed her lips into Daenerys’ to stop her from working herself into a state. It almost seemed like the only way she could let Daenerys know she was thankful for her was physically, but it was the most effective way to communicate it “I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that” Daenerys’ arms were resting on the nape of Yara’s neck, her breathing nearly too slow, breathing Yara could feel on her face, her cheeks tainted with what was becoming Yara’s favorite shade of red, the heat radiating off the taken Queen through every part of their body that was touching.
“Take that as the fact that I am absolutely open to looking at your plans your grace” Yara leaned back to gingerly place a kiss on the smaller girl’s forehead, her right hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear “There are many things we can work out, but this is definitely more appealing than the idea of being separated from you until an official function brings us together”
“My earlier sentiment is still accurate. Yara Greyjoy you are becoming too charming for your own good”
Yara laughed, and shifted her feet to shift Daenerys between herself and the railing, allowing the Queen to watch the sunset as she spoke.
“The people of the Iron Islands would still find it hard to respect my reign, it would be the equivalent of a mainlander sitting the salt throne, that does not change because I am the one sitting it” Yara’s arms encircled the small blonde, which allowed her to feel her tensing up “I understand if the war leaves a penalty for the Lannisters, if a piece of their land, no matter how small, could be given to the ironborn the situation might be different”
To an outsider it could look like Yara was using her new status as a way to get land for the ironborn, but Daenerys knew better. This was Yara’s way of appeasing her people, letting them see their alliance with the crown could be beneficial for everyone, and taking away the stigma her people held against mainlanders.
“How does the Crag sound to you?” Daenerys sighed contently at the feeling of Yara’s lips on the back of her ear, sending shocks through her body “I have it on good word that Lord Edmure Tully is the last surviving member of the ruling house of the Riverlands. If I offer him the land of Duskendale after the war I see no reason why the trade can’t be made”
“Have you thought of everything?” The amused tone in Yara’s voice did not reduce her feelings of admiration “I think Edmure Tully will be happy to be alive when the war ends, I am sure he will take whatever deal you offer him in exchange for going back home and enjoying some quiet years”
“Tyrion also proposed the Iron Throne and the Salt Throne be transferred to the Queen’s Keep when the building concludes” the rumbling of Yara’s laughter made her try to turn, only being stopped by Yara’s hands.
“Give the Ironborn land, move the salt and iron thrones, create a betrothal between two Queens, you and Tyrion seem extremely keen on breaking every rule in the book” the humor was intended to soften the blow that would follow “I don’t think that is a good idea. Some traditions are better left untouched. We are pushing for enough with our marriage and a new capital city, leave the thrones where they are, to be used for official ceremonies”
“That’s what I thought. Eventually the new city will be central enough to move the throne from the Red Keep”
“Beautiful and smart. Now you see why I have become far too charming for my own good? It takes more than wit and strength to keep up with you, Daenerys Targaryen”
The colors of the sunset played with the silver in Daenerys’ hair, and Yara Greyjoy realized she had a new favorite thing to admire. Sunsets were beautiful in their own right, but her wife-to-be, encased in a bath of dying sunlight was a sight to behold, a sight that if she had anything to do with would be only for her. In the same way Tyrion’s realization had struck earlier, Yara’s had too, unexpectedly but no less welcomed.
“Dany, how do you feel about being wed under the old gods?”
Daenerys had never truly been a religious person. Viserys had never encouraged any worship unless it involved worshipping him, and because they had spent most of their time running away from the Baratheon’s knives, there could never really be a religion to stick with them. Unless one of the gods was patron of runners.
“I thought the people of the Iron Islands worshipped the drowned god?”
“We do. But the drowned god is a god for warriors, and hell for nuptials” the more she thought about it, the better the idea seemed “All we would need is a weirwood...and a sunset”
“Yara Greyjoy, a romantic at heart” Dany’s giggling did something to Yara, to the hardened heart of iron that had seemed unconquerable to so many back home, and even to herself.
“The others take you if anyone finds out” Yara ducked her head to graze her lips with Daenerys’ “Is that a yes?”
“I’d marry you under any god Yara, but the offer sounds tempting, and quite the test for our advisors who seem to think not a thing in this world is impossible.”
-oOoOo-
Victarion, like his niece and nephew, detested the feeling of heat and the horrid humidity in Meereen. The possibility of getting away from it had pushed him to get the construction of the ships underway as much as humanly possible, the idea of their departure being delayed by anything infuriated him, until he learnt why.
Tyrion and Varys had put their heads and contacts together, and scoured the eastern markets for anyone with any even the smallest interest in Weirwoods. With their scarcity it had come at a great price, but it had not been impossible to find. The fact that Yara Greyjoy had sent Tirius on board Black Wind to bring it back really highlighted the urgency.
Meereen’s gardens had seemed like the perfect place to put it, until Tyrion had reminded the eager Queens that their subjects in Essos were particular about the gods they worshipped. More specifically in their belief that the followers of R'hllor were popular for burning idols they considered false, and a Weirwood was a tempting and flammable target. That is how they found themselves standing by the empty beaches outside the walls of Meereen, where the sand had been excavated to accommodate the large tree.
To Victarion however, the important part of the story was watching his niece fiddle with the black and gold Greyjoy cape over her shoulders and the dark crown over her temples as the sun began to make its way down. Victarion, as the only one who had lived a considerable time in the North other than his nephew, was saddled with the title of officiator of the ceremony. The Sands, Daenerys’ advisors and Yara’s crew were standing by the weirwood, equally amused by usually composed and collected warrior pacing and fiddling impatiently.
“Yara, I don’t think shifting sand will make this any easier” Yara turned sharply to look at her uncle, who was shaking the sand out of his boots and out of his equally black cape. The ironborn sighed deeply, nodding her understanding and trying to dig her heels into the ground to avoid moving much.
She had decided to glare at the floor, like it was at fault for her anxiety. And then, a beautiful sight came her way.
-oOoOo-
Daenerys for her part was no better than Yara. Since her betrothed’s stroke of brilliance, they had waited two weeks for all the arrangements to be made, standing by as her advisors tripped over themselves to have it all prepared in time. It almost seems ridiculous to be planning a wedding when they should have been preparing for a war, nonetheless the change was a welcomed one, one Dany had even enjoyed, until the day had been on them.
It was not the first time she was to be married, and the first time she had simply wanted to get it over with, to begin her nightmare; that it had turned out better than expected didn’t matter right now. This time however, she was not dreading it, the union might be purely for protection in the eyes of Westeros, but to Yara and Dany it was much more than that, and that is what had led her to her predicament.
“Your grace” Tyrion, clad in his Lannister red robes and golden yellow cloak, seemed almost amused, thinking back to his own marriage day and how much he had dreaded it, it seemed Daenerys was experiencing a different type of wedding nerves “i thought getting cold feet in this weather was impossible”
“While I always appreciate your jokes Lord Lannister, at the moment it seems my body refuses to respond to my orders”
“I assumed it would be an easier thing for you, knowing the person waiting for you cares for you and your happiness” Tyrion looked at his boots and then at the beautiful Queen, who was clad in a snow white dress and her beautiful crown. Hanging from her shoulders was a black cloak with the blood red Targaryen. The queen looked out to the setting sun, knowing the man was right, it was easier. The woman waiting for her had shown time and time again she cared for her happiness and wellbeing “Shall we go?”
-oOoOo-
“Who comes?” Yara’s voice quivered with anticipation. Victarion decided, for his own health, it was better to pretend he couldn’t see the tears gathering in his niece’s eyes. Or he would at least save that knowledge for later “Who comes before the gods?”
“Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen” Tyrion took a deep breath “First of her name, Queen of the Andals and the first men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods” it almost seemed that he and the spectators were the only ones listening to the protocol of the ceremony, Yara Greyjoy seemed lost to the world when Daenerys had come within touching distance “Who comes to claim her?”
Yara shook her head from the stupor, and smiled the brightest smile any of those present had seen “Me, Yara of house Greyjoy, Queen of the Iron Islands, Lady Reaper of Pyke, Queen of Salt and Rock, Daughter of the Sea Wind, Lady of the Iron Islands. I claim her” Her gaze was ever so slowly ripped from Daenerys’ eyes to look at the man next to her “Who gives her?”
This was the part Tyrion had been riding on, in the hopes that Varys would owe him a bag of coins at the Sands’ reactions “Tyrion of House Lannister. Hand of Queen Daenerys” those present glanced down at his chest, where his gold pin of service shone brightly against the sun’s colors. His mismatched gaze looked up to the queen, who now seemed anxious to get the process done “Queen Daenerys Targaryen, will you take this woman?”
Dany had unshed tears in her eyes as her quivering voice answered “I take this woman”
Yara raised her hands to join them with Daenerys’ smaller ones, guiding her delicately towards the heart tree, where they bowed in respect towards the gods of old. Victarion reached out for the black cloak being offered by Greyworm, holding it in his hands for Yara to take when their proper respects were paid. Once again they turned towards each other, Yara’s rough hands brushing against Dany’s collarbone when she reached out to take her Targaryen cloak. Victarion offered the black cloak, embedded with the crowned dragon whose tail was tangled with the crowned Kraken’s tentacles.
Daenerys missed the warmth for a single second between her cloak being taken away by Tyrion and Yara placing the new one over her shoulders. It seemed fitting that Drogon would fly over the ceremony, flames flickering, mixing with the oranges and reds of the setting sun. What ever Victarion had said after the cloak of their combined protection got lost to the queens who stole the seven god’s ceremony’s kiss as the sun disappeared under the horizon.
“I told you, all we needed was a weirwood and a sunset” Yara whispered, feeling a newfound sense of wonder when looking at the beautiful queen in front of her, at her beautiful queen. This woman was hers and that was all that mattered.
Dany laughed, tucking her head in the crook of the warrior’s neck “Leave it to you to forget about witnesses and the wedding feast” Yara’s contentment was so grand she even managed to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of the crown digging into her skin “one of us should address said witnesses, don’t you think?” Yara tightening her hold on her waist gave her the cue she already understood, she was the diplomat therefore it was her job.
“We thank you for witnessing this ceremony, and for your continued support. More importantly we would thank you to join us for the wedding feast”
Tirius led the lighthearted charge from the ironborn by proclaiming “Essentially what I came here for” allowing the Queen’s to direct them towards the great pyramid. A procession protected by the unsullied and surrounded by bewildered but excited people of Meereen, who had come to embrace Yara for what she was, their Queen’s closest confidant and now consort.
-oOoOo-
Yara and Daenerys could be forgiven for not being able to remember much about their wedding feast.
What they could remember however was the small things that not one of the people surrounding them could recall. Yara’s and Daenerys’ hands wrapped around each other, the whispered nothings that were exchanged, the looks of lust that could be mistaken for something else, and the impatient tap-tap-tap-tapping of Yara’s boots on the ground, waiting for a polite time to leave the hall.
Varys and Tyrion sat at the dais, the Lannister man drinking everything within sight, laughing rather loudly at Obara’s and Daario’s sour face. Obara because she had been forced to sit with the sour man, and Daario because if ever there was a sign he had completely lost Daenerys, it was the crowned queens wrapped up with one another, a black gold and red cape covering Daenerys.
“So, where are my spoils?” Tyrion gulped down his goblet, turning towards Varys, who had a strange scowl painting his features “there is no way the Sands did not frown and growl at me giving our Queen away”
Varys’ hands disappeared inside his sleeves, coming out with a small sack of coins “This is why I never gamble with a Lannister”
“Particularly this Lannister my friend”
All eyes in the room turned towards Daenerys, standing with a smiling Yara at her side, waiting for the room to quiet, which it did in record time for the drunken crowd.
“Queen Yara and I would like to thank you for your company in this important ceremony” Yara’s hand unconsciously rested on the pommel of her sword, not used to the idea she could hold Daenerys’ hand in public “We will now be retiring for the night, but please enjoy the feast and drinks” Dany turning towards the door gave the signal for the cheering and music to resume.
Tyrion could not help but giggle at seeing the queens nearly drag each other out of the great hall, their black cloaks swirling as they walked out. Seeing Daario frown even more, if that could even be possible, at both their anxiousness to leave and the Dragon-Kraken sigil, set him on a wine seeking adventure from the wine bearers.
“Someone should run with them”
“Why in the name of all the gods would anyone do that?”
Tyrion laughed into his cup as he answered, Varys for his part could not fault the logic behind his statement, and allowed a laugh to escape him as well “Because they will reach the queen’s chambers faster than anyone before them, it might even set a record”
-oOoOo-
Tyrion would have become far richer if he had bet on his idea, the swirling capes and laughter followed the queens, who were walking briskly towards the top of the pyramid, sprinting the last few feet, ripping at each other’s clothing once the heavy oak door slammed closed.
“That took way too long” Yara grunted, throwing off her crown towards the couch nearby, caring little for how or where it landed, picking up Daenerys by the waist, her legs wrapping strongly around her own body. The Queen’s hands reached up to the always neatly arranged silver hair of her wife, tossing the crown off to land somewhere with a heavy clanking.
“You wear too many layers” Dany had practice untying the heavy armor Yara wore, but this one was different. The more ornamental plate that the ceremony required was stupidly intricate, and had left Dany begging for something to cut through the steel “no, not that” Yara grinned rakishly at Dany’s order, her white dress had been left at the foot of the door with her small clothes, the only thing she sported and had ordered to keep was the black cloak over her shoulders, something the Greyjoy queen would not put up a fight for “what in the name of the seven hells”
“After marrying you I realize you are very impatient my Queen” Yara whispered laughingly, untying the remaining leather clasps, holding on to the plate before it dropped and tossing it away to join the crowns, the sound of it landing strongly on the ground did not faze either of the eager women “I like my women to be impatient”
Dany’s response was cut short by Yara reaching down to where the heat concentrated, leaving Daenerys breathless and asking for more. Getting her second wind, Dany switched their positions, looking for the place where Yara’s shirt met her trousers, pulling at it in order to even out the playing room.
Yara Greyjoy would never admit outside of their bedchamber that she enjoyed Daenerys being strong and dominating in the bedroom as much as she was outside of it. Watching her wife’s eyes sparkle with lust as she threw off her shirt and unbuttoned her trousers made Yara realize, it would be a long and enjoyable night to put down for legend, one she wanted Daenerys to remember.
Tossed bedsheets, moans and screams and pleads for more surrounded the historical union’s wedding night. By the time the sun that had seen their marriage rose, Yara and Daenerys were exhausted, their breathing uneven and rapid. Dany’s head was resting on Yara’s chest, her legs tangled up with the warrior’s own, the Greyjoy’s arms tracing a well known up and down path on her arms and lower back, lulling the Targaryen to sleep.
“I love you, Yara” her small voice sleepy and nearly lost in her losing battle to sleep “Greyjoy, Targaryen, whatever I have to call you now. You are mine, I am yours, and I love you” Yara’s breath hitched for a second, her right hand resuming its job of mapping Daenerys’ back, while her left tipped the sleepy queen’s chin upwards so her eye could meet the purple Targaryen gaze.
“I love you too Dany, now go to sleep, I will still be here and I will still love you when you wake up” Yara tightened her grip on Daenerys, her eyes drooping.
“Promise?”
“Always and forever my queen”