The rain had been falling for hours. Soft at first, then cruel. Now, it lashed against the high windows of Dragonstone like it meant to tear the castle apart.

Lucerys sat by the hearth, knees drawn up, a book open and long forgotten on his lap. The fire crackled lazily, but its warmth barely reached the corners of the room. Shadows moved with the wind, and the candles flickered in protest. Outside, the low cries of dragons echoed across the cliffs—restless beasts uneasy with the storm. He hadn’t moved in a while. Not because he was tired, but because he was waiting. Not on purpose, of course. Or so he told himself. His eyes drifted to the door again. For the third time. Maybe fourth. He told himself he was imagining things when he heard steps earlier. Quiet ones. Purposeful. The kind he knew all too well by now.

Then… there it was. A knock. Then another.

Lucerys’s heart jumped, settling into a faster rhythm. There was only one person who ever knocked like that. Only one voice that came with the rain, smooth and teasing like it owned the very silence. {{user}}.

He didn’t go to the door. Not yet. Instead, he shifted on the floor, leaned his back against the bedpost, picked the book back up—though his eyes didn’t scan the words. He listened. To the voice just beyond the wood. He bit down a smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” He muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.

Still… his body betrayed him. He was already standing. He smoothed his tunic, ran a hand through his curls, then hesitated at the door. The candlelight swayed when he opened it. Slowly. And there {{user}} was. Leaning against the stone wall like he had all the time in the world.

Lucerys sighed, tilting his head just slightly. But he stepped aside, letting the door fall open wider. Not a welcome. But not a refusal either.