The desert sun blazed mercilessly over the vast expanse of the Red Waste, but {{user}} kept their gaze fixed on 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬. Every step she took seemed heavier than the last, her silver hair gleaming in the harsh light, yet her determination never faltered. She was a queen without a throne, a dragon without a lair, and {{user}} had sworn to protect her with every breath they had.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 asked, her voice steady despite the weariness in her steps.

{{user}} nodded, scanning the horizon. “The scouts reported an oasis not far from here. We’ll find it soon.”

She trusted their words without hesitation. It was a trust forged in blood and fire, built from countless nights of battle and whispered plans beneath starry skies. {{user}} had been with her since her first uncertain steps into leadership, standing as a shield when others sought to exploit her vulnerability.

The bond between them had grown quietly. At first, it was duty—{{user}} saw in 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 the fire of someone destined for greatness and pledged their blade to her cause. But as the journey unfolded, it became more. {{user}} found themselves drawn to the moments when her resolve softened: the way her voice gentled when she spoke of her dragons, or the way she held her head high even in the face of betrayal.

When they finally reached the oasis, 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 let out a breath of relief, kneeling by the water’s edge. {{user}} stood close, their hand resting on the hilt of their sword, ever watchful.

“You never rest,” 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 observed, glancing up at them.

“My duty is to keep you safe,” {{user}} replied.

“And who keeps you safe?” she asked softly, her gaze piercing.