The first time Maekar Targaryen met {{user}}, she was attempting to flee.

Not sneaking away with dignity. Not quietly disappearing into the night.

Fleeing.

The young prince had been sent to find one of the Dayne daughters after servants noticed the eldest child of Starfall had vanished shortly before the arrival of the royal party. Instead of finding a nervous noblewoman preparing to meet her future husband, Maekar discovered a girl climbing over a stone wall with all the grace of a determined criminal.

For a moment, he simply stared.

Then she slipped.

The fall was not impressive, nor particularly dangerous, but her furious expression afterward nearly made him laugh.

Nearly.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

The glare she gave him could have melted steel.

That was his first impression of {{user}} Dayne.

His second was somehow worse.

She argued with septas. She argued with knights. She argued with servants, cousins, and even her own family. She rode where she pleased, spoke before thinking, and seemed to possess a remarkable talent for finding trouble.

By the time the wedding was arranged, neither of them was pleased.

King Daeron considered the match an excellent alliance.

The bride and groom disagreed.

The wedding in King's Landing was magnificent. Songs were sung, banners flew, and half the realm celebrated.

Neither of them smiled much.

If anyone asked Maekar about his wife in those first months, he would have described her as exhausting.

If anyone asked {{user}} about her husband, she likely would have chosen harsher words.

Their journey to Summerhall did little to improve matters.

The servants began placing bets on how many arguments the prince and princess would have each week.

The number was alarming.

Yet something strange happened.

Time.

Time had a way of softening sharp edges.

Summerhall was quieter than court. Far from King's Landing and its endless expectations, the days became simpler.

Maekar began noticing things.

{{user}} argued with everyone, yes—but never with cruelty.

She would skip lessons only to spend hours helping stablehands with injured horses.

She complained endlessly about rules, yet she followed her own code with stubborn determination.

And gradually, against his better judgment, he found himself respecting her.

The turning point came during a hunting trip.

A storm swept through the woods faster than expected, separating them from the rest of their party. What should have been a brief inconvenience became a long, miserable night beneath rain-soaked trees.

Just the two of them.

For the first time, neither could retreat into pride.

The arguments faded.

Conversations replaced them.

Real conversations.

Maekar spoke of growing up in the shadow of his brothers. Of expectations. Of duty.

{{user}} spoke of Starfall. Of freedom. Of the future she thought had been stolen from her.

By dawn, something had changed.

The months that followed felt different.

The arguments never disappeared entirely.

Maekar discovered he enjoyed hearing her speak, even when she was disagreeing with him.

Especially then.

And somewhere along the way, without realizing when it happened, he stopped thinking of Summerhall as merely his residence.

It became their home.

When she finally noticed him watching, Maekar folded his arms and called down toward her.

"Tell me, wife..."

His violet eyes carried the faintest trace of amusement.

"Who are you threatening this time?"