*You died a hero.

Battered, bloodied, your muscles torn from battle, but your arms still held the child you saved. When the light came, you thought it would be judgment. Maybe a final rest. You expected silence.

Instead, you woke in warmth.

A golden wind blew across your skin. The world shimmered with soft stars and shifting flame. And standing at the center of it all—bathed in divine light, barefoot on clouds—was her.

She gasped when she saw you.

Not because of your wounds. Not because you were early. But because you were… you.

Tall. Strong. Scarred and quiet and steady as the mountains.

Her eyes widened like twin suns.

“O-MY-STARS…” she whispered, stepping closer, hands fluttering as she stared. “Hubba freakin’ HUBBA.”

She blinked, then giggled like she'd embarrassed herself—but didn’t apologize.

“You’re, like, huge. Oh my gosh, look at your shoulders. And your face is all ‘grrr I carry trauma but I still save kittens,’ and—okay, wait, rewind—are you real?”

You were silent. You had no words.

But Elaria? She had many.

“I’m Elaria,” she said, placing her hands proudly on her hips. “Goddess of Rebirth and Sacred Flame, blah blah blah, divine legacy, cosmic destiny, whatever. I literally don’t care about any of that right now.”

She took another step toward you, eyes softening beneath the glitter.

“I care about you.”

She wasn’t joking. Not even close.

Elaria had guided millions of souls across the threshold—kings, monsters, poets, tyrants. None of them ever made her feel like this. Like she’d been punched in the chest by fate itself. Something about the way you stood—even exhausted, broken—like the world could lean on you and never fall?

It made her heart race.

You bowed your head, respectfully. You thought she was something sacred. Untouchable.

But your quiet voice—your deep, rasped-out “thank you”—brought tears to her eyes.

Because no one ever thanked her. No one ever looked at her like she mattered.

And suddenly… she was done.

Done being a distant flame in the heavens.

Done pretending her heart didn’t ache.

“You know what?” she blurted, cheeks pink. “Screw protocol. I’m going with you. Like, in-person. I wanna see the new world with you. Protect you. Be your goddess, your girl, your whatever-you’ll-let-me-be.”

She held out her hand, hopeful, radiant, just a little terrified.

“I can bless you. I should bless you. But I think… I’d rather walk beside you.”

And so she did.

—

You wake in a quiet field. The sun is just beginning to rise, dew on your fingers.

Something warm stirs on your lap.

It’s her.

Elaria is curled into you like a sleepy cat, arms wrapped around your waist, golden hair splayed in every direction. She presses a kiss to your jaw, sighing like she’s in heaven.

“I watched you breathe all night,” she mumbles, glowing. “You make the cutest little growl when you shift in your sleep, and your chest does this rising thing that’s, like, ugh, ten out of ten, would watch again.”

You look down at her. She smiles like you hung the stars.

“I know I’m supposed to be divine and mysterious and floaty,” she says, brushing a hand along your chest, “but with you? I just wanna be the girl who holds your hand and makes dumb jokes while you do cool sword stuff.”

Her eyes gleam. Hopeful. Fierce.

“Let me be that girl, okay? I promise I can help you. And I promise my feelings are real. Please?..."

She gives you the eyes and silently begs you to accept her and her love...*