Golden, as I open my eyes, hold it, focus, take me back to the light.

I know, you were, way too bright for me.

I'm hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky.

Brown my skin just right, you're so golden.

I'm out of my head, and I know that you're scared,

because hearts get broken.

I don't wanna be alone, I don't wanna be alone when it ends.

Don't wanna let you know, I don't wanna be alone.

But I can feel you take ahold, I can feel you take control.

Of who I am and all I've ever known.

Lovin' you's the antidote.

Golden.

-Harry Styles, "Golden"

Dany had been on tours of the Kingdoms on different occasions. The first being when she was just an infant, before her mother's untimely passing, when the country fawned over baby Daenerys and her blushing mother. Taking a child on such an arduous journey was unheard of and a bit taboo in the noble circle but Rhaella and Aerys managed it.

There was another shortly after her debut at sixteen. The incident between her and Viserys was only a few months prior but Dany smiled and waved and waltzed like nothing happened. At an age when she should have burst with excitement at the chance to dance with notable young men, she wanted nothing to do with them. Every box step was its own torture and every minute of forced conversation drove her to the point of exhaustion.

The press at such events took note of it, questioning the ethics of the practice and criticizing the organizers for putting a young girl through so much. But those were the new age papers who sought to humanize Dany. More established columnists picked out every imperfection and condemned her inability to keep up with the demanding schedule.

She was able to avoid the customary tour after she turned eighteen because her birthday fell during the traditional mourning period for her father. When the time came to reschedule the event, Dany had already jetted off to Braavos for university.

Of all the travels through her home country, Dany liked the Reach the most. A lush landscape of green dotted with orchards and fields. Fresh air and uninterrupted horizons. The palace of Highgarden never bored her with its expansive gardens and luxurious sights. It was a different kind of wealth from the showy Lannisters, subtle and meticulously blended with the natural elements around it.

Dany was especially looking forward to this leg of the trip, not only because the Tyrells were wonderful hosts, but because it provided a lapse in the usual busy schedule. No galas, state dinners, or ribbon cuttings. Only a few charity visits and one interview, which they completed when they landed in Bitterbridge. And then it was on the Roseroad to Highgarden.

Tucked away in the country, the Tyrell summer home was the pinnacle of a vacation retreat. All old stone and overgrown elegance. Standing in the foyer to greet them was the whole Tyrell clan. Matriarch Olenna, known in all circles as the Queen of Thorns for her prickling jabs, cutting wit, and vindictive attitude to those she saw as threats to her family. Dressed in her usually muted vintage colors, her hair still styled as though she walked off the set of a golden age screen.

Mace and his lovely wife Alerie. And the most interesting members of the family, their children. Willas, Garlan, Loras, and Margaery.

She and Marg were closer, despite the age gap. After that unfortunate waltz with Willas and the following trip to Highgarden, the girls formed a sort of mentorship. Dany wouldn't call it sisterhood but it was something adjacent to it.

That day brought them a foray into the very edge of Tyrell lands, a walk that could be more aptly categorized as a hike. They reached their destination by midday even with the assistance of a fleet of golf carts. However, the little vehicles couldn't reach the very place they were meant to go. Uncharted territory. A stretch of trees and high grass untouched by the Tyrell penchant for artful landscaping and planned gardens.

The group walked along trails barely beaten and ducked under branches as someone high up on the groundskeeping chain of command explained plants to them. A hundred years ago, during Olenna's prime, this sort of outing would've been enjoyable. The charm that must have surrounded it was lost in the humid air around them. Dany tried to feign interest in whatever lecture they received but was distracted by the man walking next to her.

Jon was doing his best to pretend this activity was interesting. Occasionally they would catch each other's eyes, betraying their true feelings on the matter, and have to hide their laughter. Eventually, they came upon a point in the trail where the land beside it rose into a knoll of high grass.

Tired of the unending green light of the forest, Dany departed from the group and stepped through the thin line of trees. She made no effort toward the top, only gazed at where the crest met the crystalline blue sky. The wisps of clean, white clouds trekked lazily along, occasionally blocking out the harsh sun. A breeze stirred the sultry air and she took a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut in her moment of still relief.

The rustling of the overgrowth attracted her attention, though she was unsurprised to find it was Jon.

"Needed a minute," Dany said simply, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I don't think we'll be missed."

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Gorgeous. The view from the top is probably better."

Dany hummed in agreement.

"Race you to the top?" Jon challenged, a playful grin on his face.

"In this heat?"

"Afraid you'll lose?"

Dany rolled her eyes, "Fine."

Without much more debate, she took off with Jon's claims of cheating lost on her ears. The incline wasn't terrible but it still stole her breath all the same. High grass grazing her legs and threatening to trip her. Jon was right about the view from the top, though, it was even better. A patchwork of varying shades of green as the fields stretched to the horizon, occasionally broken up by strips of trees or the odd pasture and farmhouse.

The peaceful moment of awe was interrupted by Jon grabbing Dany from behind and spinning her around, raucous laugh music to her ears. She playfully swatted at him when he set her down but she lost her footing and fell into the high grass. He came down with her and they laughed as though it was the funniest joke in existence.

"I should've known you'd do something like that," Jon managed through breathy chuckles.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game."

Dany rolled onto her side, resting her head against her hand. Jon reached up to brush back a strand of hair worked loose from her messy braid. As he tucked it behind her ear, the familiar thumping in the chest and tightening of the throat that accompanied her so often lately came back.

A side effect of her current state, a sickening twist of her stomach and pinching in her brain, made her freeze. Eyes searching Jon's desperately for any sign that she was not alone in her newfound mess.

A security officer cleared his throat and the two royals sat straight up, looking guilty though they were not.

"Your Royal Highnesses, the Tyrell's have inquired about your intention to continue the hike," he reported.

Dany blinked, "Of course. We were simply enjoying one of the more diverse views the Reach has to offer."

"We'll be down shortly." Jon put in.

The officer nodded to them and headed back to their group, who were no doubt stopped at some unfortunate bend in the trail and wishing they hadn't invited newlyweds on their excursion. The childish playfulness in their relationship was fresh and a nice reprieve from the solemness woven in their time together. It also resulted in camera rolls full of silly photos they managed to snag of each other.

They were in somewhat of a friendly competition to see who could collect the most candid photos of their trip around the country. A contest that was tied as of their landing in the Reach. In order to keep track of the standings, their text conversation was filled with pictures and comedic captions.

Dany learned that all of her cherishable moments happened when she and Jon were away from public view. The only precedent she had for a relationship like the one she found herself in was Rhaegar and Elia, a comparison she hesitated to make. The bond between those two blossomed under the public eye and, as far as Dany knew, didn't require near the amount of building. The moment she and Jon were under pressure to perform, every action and statement was forced and watched and analyzed.

They heaved themselves up from the ground, making sure no bits of grass stuck and they didn't look too guilty, and rejoined the awaiting group. They pretended not to hear Olenna's snide remarks.

Late the next morning, the boys offered to take their guests on a horseback ride through the vineyards.

"Actually, I have some last-minute wedding things to sort out." Dany deflected, "But Jon would love to."

She'd let it slip to Garlan the other night that Jon was quite the equestrian.

The three eager boys hauled Jon off. Ecstatic that they finally had someone to antagonize.

Dany was not free from her own abduction. The women took her to a sitting room with floor-to-ceiling windows and a jade green color scheme, the same little room where they were known to exchange gossip. It was Olenna's favorite hobby. This time, there were none of her fellow old ladies to sip tea and spill secrets with, just the Tyrell women and Dany.

"How are you enjoying married life, my dear," Olenna asked.

"Oh, it's … fun."

"Always is in the first years." Alerie reminisced.

Was it? Sure, traveling around the country and seeing sights she hadn't in a while, was enjoyable but would it be the same with or without her new life partner? So far, the most memorable moments revolved around Jon. The cave and gala and sunset would've been enjoyable but forgettable in the end. Now, those specific scenes stuck out in her mind, vivid and sparkling, and she couldn't seem to stop them from occupying center stage in her mind.

"Daenerys?"

Dany shook her head, breaking away from her reverie.

"Are you going to answer that?"

She glanced to where Alerie pointed with a well-manicured finger at a buzzing phone.

"Oh," Dany turned it over.

Missandei's gorgeous contact photo, a snap from one of their last brunches together, smiled back. She'd almost forgotten her SOS text.

It occurred after Dany awoke to a different text from Jon. A photo of her, head lolled to the side as she slept on their flight captioned, "prettiest sleeper around". As the smile spread across her face, her heart skipped a beat. And the mild panic set in.

Dany swiped across the screen to answer Missy's call as she swept through the doors to the exquisite patio overlooking the gorgeous vineyards she turned down a tour of.

"It's so good to see your face," Dany gushed.

"Yours too," Missy chuckled.

"How's the new job?"

"Galazza's amazing per usual. And thanks to you I'm already gaining a ton of positive attention."

"I always knew you were going to be amazing."

"How's the tour? I assume that's what your text was about."

Dany groaned, "Yes. By principal, I should be hating every moment of this stupid trip but I'm having the time of my Gods damn life. Not to mention being utterly infatuated with the person I'm with it's-"

"Wait, rewind! Did you just say 'utterly infatuated'?"

Dany shook her head, "It's not what you think, we've spent every damn moment together, that's why. Luckily, there's plenty of space on this leg. Margaery's brothers have him occupied for now."

She gazed over the tops of the trellises, eyes drawn to the sight of a group of riders returning. Jon and the Tyrells back from their escapade. She couldn't take her gaze away from a certain someone, body relaxed into the saddle and the laid-back sway of his horse. The almost lazy way he held the reins in his hand. It was, dare she say it-

"Um, Earth to Dany?"

"Yeah?" she acknowledged, still only half-listening.

Jon caught her staring, shielding his eyes to look up at her. He waved and she returned the gesture.

"Hello?"

Missy finally broke through to Dany, "Oh shit, sorry."

"Mm-hm, I know that behavior."

"That's what I'm talking about. I'm acting like a love-sick idiot."

"You know, I hate to say it but I-"

"Don't," Dany warned.

"Told-"

"Missy, don't say it."

"I told you so."

"I hate you."

Missy cackled, obviously pleased with herself.

"I just- it's too early. I don't want to ruin anything."

"Dany, look at your hands."

With furrowed brows, she did as her friend commanded. Her wedding band, nestled snugly against the kite-shaped stone of her engagement ring winked at her.

"You're already locked in. It's not like he can run."

"That's exactly the problem. What if … I pursue this and the timing's all wrong. Divorce isn't an option."

"Has Jon given you any reason to doubt that it could?"

"No. Quite the opposite actually."

"Then what do you have to lose?"

Everything and nothing.

A rise in noise from the adjacent room reminded Dany of her hosts in the other room and ended her call to be with them, saddened to cut her conversation with her friend short. It wasn't long before Dany grew tired of their talk of marriage and children, especially the latter part. So she retreated to her rooms, which also boasted a nice balcony to take in the fresh, summer-scented air. A binder laid open on the table in front of her with song choices from the repertoire of Baelor's Blessed Singers, the official ensemble of the Great Sept.

Most of them were in the Common Tongue but a few were in the dead language of High Valyrian, the mother tongue of her Targaryen ancestors. Although the Faith of the Seven existed before the Conquest, when the Targaryen's adopted it, they commissioned hymns to be written in their native language. Some sort of symbolism, Dany figured.

Footsteps entering the balcony drew her attention away from the Valyrian text before her.

"How's wedding planning this time around?" Jon's voice asked teasingly.

"About as well as the last. I have to pick out seven songs and seven prayers for the ceremony."

"That many?"

"It used to be seventy-seven."

"I'll count us lucky then."

"How were the vineyards?"

"A lovely display of grapes and greenery."

"I'm very sorry to have missed it. I had no idea how good of an equestrian you really are."

Jon chuckled, "You've seen me ride before."

"Well, yes, but I wasn't paying attention then."

At least not in that way.

He sat down in the open chair next to her. Gazing over the next line of text with its accent marks and translations.

"What does i-os- ruh-li-" he paused as he leaned closer to the page to examine the word that caught his eye.

Dany giggled at his stumbling mispronunciation, "Iosrūlirion. It's Valyrian for autumn. The whole line translates to 'as the autumn mist hides the hills'."

"And the whole poem?"

"As the rain hides the stars, as the autumn mist hides the hills, as the clouds hide the blue of the sky, so the dark happenings of my lot hide your shining face from me. Yet, if I may hold your hand in the darkness, it is enough, since I know that though I may stumble in my going you do not fall."

The last word fell from her and hung in the air with birdsong. With hesitation, she shifted her eyes off the papers and to the waiting gaze of Jon's.

"A pretty piece."

"Thank you. It's one of my favorites," she admitted, tearing her eyes away and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She blinked at the heat in her cheeks, pressing her hands to her face at the strange sensation. She hadn't felt it in while. The giggling, the blushing, all things she'd experienced before on several occasions. All of them preludes to romance.

"How do you know Valyrian?"

"Targaryen family requirement. Every one of us knows how to speak it, read it, write it. A completely useless skill, unless we're in Essos, then we just sound like pretentious assholes."

Jon chuckled, "It does sound ridiculous."

Dany shoved his shoulder, "And who assigned you higher authority on poetic language?"

"It's a self-appointed position."

"Then you won't mind showing me your qualifications."

"My qualifications?"

Dany hummed as he leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat.

"I carry it in my heart, anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling. For you are my fate, my sweet, for beautiful you are my world, my true. Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide. I carry it in my heart."

Jon spoke more like an actor performing a monologue than someone pulling words from their memory. Intent in every line.

"I carry your heart with me. I am never without it. I fear no fate, I want no world and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you. Here is the deepest secret nobody knows and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart. I carry your heart."

"I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't that." Dany breathed, "Who was she?"

There was only one reason someone memorized a poem like that and the slight smile on his face said it all.

"Her name was Ygritte, her dad was a diplomat at court so we went to the same school. It was the first time I ever had a crush like that and I was desperate to impress her. So I learned the piece, recited it to her and by the end of it she just laughed at me. Told me I knew nothing about women if I thought that cheesy performance would get me anywhere."

"She didn't," Dany gasped, thoroughly surprised.

"She did. If you met Ygritte you'd understand."

"Then what happened?"

"She'd never admit it but it definitely worked. We were thicker than thieves after that. And eventually, we became more."

"You never mentioned her before."

"There wasn't anything to mention. It was … short-lived. We knew it wasn't meant to last. A classic case of teenagers fooling around. I went to the wall and she stayed in Winter Town. Don't tell me you never did something stupid to impress someone you're interested in."

"Never," Dany affirmed, "It's usually the other way around."

Dany didn't like the way their eyes lingered on each other. More specifically the way it affected her heartbeat.

Looking for a way out, she turned over her phone and gasped.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. I promised Marg I would help her … choose an outfit for dinner tonight. And I said I would meet with her ten minutes ago so I'm late."

A lie. Shoddy and thrown together but she needed to get out, away from Jon and the unwanted thoughts surrounding him.

Reprieve from such things was unachievable. The Reach screamed romance. Every garden saturated in the sickly sweet hallmarks of the idea. There were statues of lovers placed around every corner, rose bushes lining the pathways. In her blind wandering, Dany passed fountains and gazebos and tile mosaics laid in the ground.

Around every bend she found herself contemplating the words of her friend and the newfound curiosity surrounding the seriousness of her girlish feelings. In truth, Dany wasn't sure she could trust herself on this issue. They had spent so much time together, it was only natural she felt strongly about Jon.

But what if she was confusing mere friendly feelings for something more. The last time she showed all the symptoms for a textbook case of a crush, it ended in a messy engagement and family intervention. Not to mention most of their romantic interactions occurred in the form of performance. The line between reality and fairytale was more of a gradient. Dany, you're being ridiculous, she reprimanded. There were the fuzzy feelings the night before their first wedding. And when she got drunk and failed at seducing her husband of a few hours, that had to come from somewhere.

She wandered until she couldn't anymore. The sun reminded her that there was an official dinner she needed to attend. Dany sat through the proceedings in her printed wrap dress, distracted and feigning interest when she could muster the concentration to do so. When the last course was whisked away and the party dissolved into the social part of the evening, Dany was hounded by Margaery's cousins, all of them eager to look at the ring and ask the same questions she'd been answering for weeks.

Marg had taken a page from Dany's book and disappeared, leaving Dany to bite the bullet. As she offered up another half-hearted answer and tuned out the sighs of idealism, Dany searched for Jon. He met her gaze, not too far away, and she gave him a pleading look.

Like a true knight in shining armor, he swept in, nudging gently into their group and graciously humoring the girls before spouting some lame excuse to save Dany.

They left the social scene for the nearby garden, unfortunately decorated with naked figures and plenty of alcoves.

"Thank you," Dany said lamely, not wanting to provoke a full-blown conversation between them.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. What makes you ask?"

"You've been cagey all day. Pawning me off on the Tyrell boys, running off on wedding planning. By the way, if you're going to lie about where you are, make sure the other party is in on the plan."

Dany looked at him with a furrowed brow, "You were looking for me?"

"I just wanted to make sure everything was alright."

Dany nodded and they continued their walk in silence. The path opened up into a little plaza, a bubbling fountain at the center of it. The moving water sparkled under the dim glow of the outdoor string lights overhead.

"Do you think we've been spending too much time together?" she pondered as they came to the other side of the fountain, "I mean, putting on this performance so no one gets suspicious. It has my brain spinning a hundred miles a minute and I'm not sure when it stops and starts."

"I know how you feel," Jon echoed.

"And sometimes I find myself wondering what would happen if we just kissed, not to prove anything to anyone else but us."

Her statement came out more rushed than she meant it, sounding childish in delivery.

"We've found a really great friendship here, and I don't want to threaten it, but…"

"You still wonder."

Dany nodded to keep another rambling sentence from leaving her. She was having a hard time being concise.

"Are we performing now?"

His thumb brushed in a reassuring arc on the back of her hand. She'd almost forgotten they were holding hands, the sensation of being entwined so familiar to her now. Her heart fluttered and beat against its bone cage.

"I- I don't know."

Jon glanced at their hands, then back to Dany, dark eyes questioning. There was no one around, she didn't have to feel that way. And yet, she wanted to fall into his gaze forever, to never move from that spot in the garden with its soft golden light and twinkling waters over the sound of a distant dinner party.

Jon's free hand ghosted over her bare arm, disturbing the fluttery short sleeve of her dress and resting against her cheek with a tenderness that scared her. The soft burbling of the architectural fountain faded with the feel of his thumb brushing across her cheekbone, there was only them floating in that enchanting space.

"Dany."

"Jon."

Their voices were no louder than whispers, hushed with intensity and the understanding that it was for no one else but them. Her lips parted without command as the space between them dwindled to mere atoms. Her heart waited in her throat for the indication to either swell or shatter.

Ultimately it was both. Somewhere past the cautious, reserved nature of their previous embraces but only reaching the edge of a deep sea of nuance. The complexities were obscured by the busy waters, however, the intent and want were clear.

She tore her entwined hand away to thread her fingers into his mess of curls, Jon's now free arm finding the small of her back and pulling her closer. And there it was, as their lips parted for a moment, only to meet again with greater urgency than before, that certain spark reverberating through her whole body. It screamed in relief and righteousness.

This was right; the right path, the right time, the right person.