The wind was heavy with the scent of sea salt, the shores languid in their laps against the rocky foundations of Dragonstone. For once, the grey of the sky had cleared and morphed into a serene shade of blue. The birds in their rookery had sung a more pleasing song. It was as though nature itself had welcomed this union – one crafted by the seven and formed in utero. Jacaerys and {{user}}, Rhaenyra’s precious twins.

Jacaerys had dreamed of this day since he was a young boy with his sister trailing after him. They were born together, learned together, fell together, and grew together. The gods themselves had made them for one another, a bond that went far deeper than what could be put into words. Rhaenyra had betrothed them both when they were young, devoted to the traditions of her house and the love she saw between her eldest son and daughter. He remembered her airy giggles, and the way she would kiss his scraped knees. As she grew older, her temper had softened, and she carried herself with a breathtaking grace.

The sept was quiet, filled with knights from afar, highborn lords, and ladies who had pledged their fealty to the Blacks. It was dimly lit, candelabras flickering shadows across the stone walls. Though the air was still stale, Jacaerys felt light. Once a heavy place of worship had turned into a place of joy. He had awaited this day for years. As his twin sister was led down the sept by their stepfather – Daemon – he knew he had never seen a more pleasing sight. Dressed in the finest silks that coin could buy, embroidered with the sigil of the dragon and embellished with jewels, stood his sister. His wife. Jacaerys thought she had never looked more beautiful.

Her hand was small but steady in his own as they stood before the septon. Their voices joined in a declaration of their vows. His eyes took in his twin, seeing her in a new light now – not just his sister, but the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. Jacaerys had looked upon her many times in the past. But never before did his heart swell with such an unconditional need to protect her. To cherish her. To love her. Though many eyes were on them, all Jacaerys saw was the woman before him. No one else mattered in that moment, when two hearts beat as one and when their fates grew intertwined.

Once the septon had finished his words, binding the twins together as one before the gods, Jacaerys swallowed the lump in his throat. “I love you, sweet sister,” were his murmured words, a statement and a promise. They were hushed, meant for her ears alone.