Sarafine stood silently in the Throne Room and watched on as her betrothed granted Lady Margaery a gift that could not be undone.
"It is the wish of the King that Lady Margaery of House Tyrell will marry into the Royal Family at a time when the war is done and won, the counsel consents," Pycelle read from a scroll. William nodded, somewhat melancholily. Sarafine looked at the ground beneath her, unable to watch as the young girl smiled wickedly at the Prince and the King.

William and Tywin's choice to not name a betrothed to Margaery was one that startled Sarafine at first. It wouldn't be right to put her at Joffrey's side, he is volatile as is, she thought. But when she looked to Lady Sansa with her sad smiles and quiet courtesies, she just wanted the poor girl to go home. They stood arm in arm, watching it all with patience, though neither really wanted to be there. Sarafine looked to Cersei, who held her head high and her eyes low. Disappointment, the Princess recognised.

"May I speak with you in private, princess?" Sansa asked once court had ended.
"Of course, my lady."
They soon arrived at the Northern girl's chambers and sat.
"I wrote to the Prince," she admitted, "but I fear it were too late."
"What did you write to him?" the Princess inquired, somewhat surprised at the bold move her friend had made.
"Just an apology, and a vow that I will serve him well should I marry him," her voice sounded with defeat.
"And have you received a reply? Has he spoken with you?"

Sansa gently shook her head.
"Maybe that's why they haven't named a husband for Margaery," Sara suggested, not hopeful.
"Maybe," the girl agreed, "but I can't be sure. He hasn't seen to me since I left it for him last week," she straightened her dress, "I am trying."

That is a while to leave it, Sarafine thought, "my lady, if I may, would you consider visiting him?"
"I thought about it but I...I'm scared she will be there. Or he'll be busy. Or angry."
Sarafine watched as Sansa seemed to talk herself out of it, "what if I were to distract Margaery, make sure Joffrey is alone? That may work."
"There's no need, really. I would prefer to wait...as it stands, I am still to marry him," she said, though Sarafine couldn't tell if the red-head were happy or sad about the fact.

She left Sansa's chambers at a summons from the King. Sara rose and straightened her gown, making way for the gardens where he wanted to see her. Sarafine loved her King, truly, with everything in her. Though war had hardened and burdened him, and sometimes she worried that they wouldn't go back to the way it were; when their hearts were young and innocent and full of laughter. Now, they had faced battle, destruction and death and weren't so young at heart; they were old and tired now, and she wished to make them young again.

The gardens of the Red Keep were as familiar to Sarafine as the back of her own hand or the colour of her love's eyes. As a child, she'd played with Myrcella and the boys, running through them freely without a care in the world aside from being caught by a Septa. Running isn't for ladies, the one they had used to say, you should always walk through the gardens, never run. Running leads to bruises. You don't want to be a bruised queen, do you? Sarafine thought of it fondly, laughing at her Septa's words. I will be a bruised queen, she thought, haven't you seen me and my love being crushed under these kingdoms?

She saw him standing there, dressed in dark colours, as his father had dressed. His boots and breeches were black, his surcoat a deep red with golden embroidery, fashioned with a stag pin and a sash of gold fabric. Will wore the colours of both his houses proudly. She admired his black curls, the way they fell at the side of his face and the way they moved when he walked. She liked them best without the crown to constrain them, and today he did not wear it.

"Your Grace," she addressed and he spun, not having seen her as he stared into the Blackwater.
"Princess," he smiled. It was then she remembered that she hated formalities, and she didn't take her childhood Septa's advice. Suddenly, she was a child again. She ran to her King and wrapped her arms around him, as he did her, "you came."
"Of course," she smiled, confused, "I'd never refuse you."
"Do you know how much I love you?"
"I fear not. Say it again," she teased, longing to hear him speak the words, to whisper them into her ear so close that she could hear the smile in his voice and feel his lips move against her hair.
"I love you," he said gently, pressing his lips to the side of her head and then to her face, kissing her sweetly. She'd missed that.
"I love you," she repeated, unable to comprehend how much she truly adored him.
"You're dressing like more of a Dornishwoman now," he smiled at her attire.
"Do you like it?"
"I think you look beautiful," he twirled her around.

Her sleeveless sand coloured silk and belt made of rubies that coiled around her waist separated her from every person in King's Landing. She was the Dornish princess, daughter of Prince Doran Martell; not like any of the others. A cuff made of gold was fastened on her right upper arm, and of course there was her prized necklace, gifted to her by the King. My father should be proud to see me, she thought. It weren't that she didn't like dressing like most Southern women, she loved it, in truth. But lately, with her family soon to visit, she was making attempts to don garb more traditional to her culture. And if my King likes it, she thought, then I have no one else I need to please.

"Your family are expected to arrive any day now," he told her as she linked his arm through his and they began their walk. Their last real stroll in these gardens hadn't ended so nicely. For a moment, Sarafine reflected on it all. Their only problem was some Targaryen girl, miles away across the Narrow Sea with some Dothraki. Oh, how that day changed it all, she recalled. If she shut her eyes, she could still see and hear the guard run to them to bring the fateful news.

"It's your father, my prince, he's been injured on his hunt," the man had panted.
Sometimes, she almost resented Robert for dying so quickly. He was the strength of the Kingdoms, and he succumbed to death so simply. She prayed that her William wouldn't be the same.

Now, how different their world had become. Will was the King, he fought a Targaryen and her treasonous allies, Sarafine was to wed him within the fortnight and would soon be responsible for producing an heir of Baratheon and Martell blood. She felt strangely excited, but nervous all the same.

"You're not angry at me, are you?" he asked.
"Will."
"I'm only doing this to keep our Realm together. Not because I want Margaery in our family. I don't," he spoke with urgency.

Sarafine exhaled, she was tired of fighting. They were fighting so many battles already, this doesn't have to be another, she decided.
"I'm not angry with you," she answered, honestly.
"You aren't?"
"You're my King, William. I trust you more than anyone in our world. Your decisions are mine," she declared and he smiled.
"You swear it?" he raised a brow.
"By the old gods and the new," she laughed, letting him hold her face in his hands and kiss her again. She placed her hands against his, enjoying the secrecy of the gardens. Guards hadn't followed him or her here, instead they waited at each entry and exit, she liked that. And suddenly, she was smiling again.

This is the William I fell in love with, she remembered, the William who kisses me softly and laughs with me. She told herself that she wouldn't argue with him on these kinds of things again, they were in this together, whether she agreed on everything or not. I am to be his queen, it is my duty to support him through it all.

"Is there any other news?" she smiled when he drew his face back from hers.
"Well, yes."
"If it's not good, don't tell me. I'm in such a lovely mood," she sighed, twirling his hair between her fingers.
"Actually it is," he surprised her, "though my Riverlands remain locked in battle, the Tyrell force I sent to the Dreadfort have done their job. They attacked the castle in the night and have taken it back into the possession of the Crown."

Sarafine smiled, maybe things are looking up, maybe the worst has passed. If only our whole lives could be this way. A peaceful reign, yes, that would be lovely.
His arms snaked around her waist and held her close to him, exciting her all the more.
"Soon you'll be mine," he smiled, "and I won't have to worry about holding you too close."
"I love you more and more each day in waiting," she whispered, holding his face in her hands. Her skin was darker than his, not by much, but she admired his lighter flesh against her deeper olive tone. I wonder what our children will look like, she thought, I hope our boys look like him. He's the most handsome man I've ever seen.

She pushed a strand of Baratheon black hair from his face. His deep brown eyes mirrored her own and it was then that she realised she would never love anyone in the world the way she loved him.
"Our love will hold the Seven Kingdoms together," he spoke softly.
"Then we are lucky the gods have made it strong," she smiled, laughing as he lifted her from her feet and spun her around slightly. She heard bells ringing from somewhere in the city, "that sounds important."
"Not important enough," he smiled, kissing her again; on her lips, her cheek and her neck, over and over again.

"Your Grace, Princess," a guard's voice interrupted, and Sarafine half wanted to send him away herself. The King held her still, only lifting his face to look at the man. She panicked a moment. Don't bring us more ill news in these gardens, she begged, if you do, then I know they are cursed and I will never walk them again.
"Go on," Will permitted.
"The Prince Doran Martell has arrived, and his household. They are riding to the Keep as we speak," he informed.

Sarafine near jumped for joy at the news. They're here!
Her face was beaming and she looked to Will who was equally as thrilled.
"Shall we see to them?" he asked her. She took his hand in hers and ran. Past the guard, through the pathways and up flights of stairs. He laughed all the while, following her without question, and she laughed too. The wind on her face was a welcome sensation, the ache of her body from the exercise a thrill. Once they were in his castle again, they slowed, panting and grinning like children.
"I've not done that for years," she breathed, struggling to get the words out. He kissed her quickly and then offered her his arm.
"Princess," he jokingly addressed.
"Your Grace," she returned.
"I feel like I'm meeting them for the first time," he confessed, though he didn't seem bothered.
"I feel something like that too," she admitted, "I haven't seen them since they left Dorne. Gods, I don't even know which of them have come!"
"You're about to become Queen," he reminded her, "I'm sure they've all come."
"Do you think I look alright? Presentable and...I don't know, respectable?"
"You always do," he pressed his lips to her forehead and ordered the doors to the Throne Room be opened. She let him lead her in, and then she saw them.

Her father held a walking cane, but suddenly all the vagueness of his image in her mind became clear and she remembered his face as if she'd never forgotten it.
"Sweet Sarafine," he smiled. She ran to him too, wrapping her arms around her flesh and blood and feeling him do the same. His stick fell to the ground and she allowed him to lean on her instead, small as she was.
"I'm so glad to finally see you again, father," she beamed, kissing his cheek. His blue eyes were warm and kind and they smiled with his mouth. She liked that.
"Princess," Trystane addressed with a smirk. He hugged her too, and she admired how he had grown into almost a man.

This is the future of Dorne, she thought proudly as she looked upon his face, this is the future of my blood and my name.
"Your Grace," her father continued, "it is an honour to be here in the Capital for this wedding. Soon we will be family," he smiled and Sara watched as William did too.
"It is an honour to host you," he smiled, "and to wed your daughter and make her my Queen."

He greeted Trystane as well, and Sara went on to greet the rest of her family who had travelled; Oberyn, Ellaria and three of his daughters.
"Sarafine, my Sunshine," Oberyn called her as he had when she were little, pressing a kiss to her forehead and wrapping his arms around her. Memories came flooding back to her when he said that, and she felt she had never been happier.

My family here to see me become one with my love, she doubted she would ever enjoy a prouder moment. Re-introductions continued and they spent the entire afternoon together.

- A/N -

This was such a happy chapter aw.

How do you think things will go with Sara's family in town? Let me know in the comments!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you have a wonderful week :)