We Light the Way

wc: 1,2k

warnings: domestic fluff, pre-dance

The mornings in Oldtown carried a peculiar calm. There was movement everywhere, yet nothing ever felt hurried. The gardens were watered before the heat of the day could grow too strong, the clinking of the guards’ armor mixed with the songs of birds, and the windows stood open to let in the clear light that filled the halls of the Hightower residence.

You found yourself seated on a delicate bench in the fortress gardens, surrounded by fragrant flowers carefully tended by the gardeners and, in part, by yourself as well, for you had always held a deep fondness for them. Before you, your firstborn, Loras Hightower, a boy of five, played joyfully with a finely carved wooden sword, imitating the movements and posture of his father.

In your lap rested the youngest member of your family, little Emmeline Hightower. Only four moons old, she babbled happily as she looked at the doll you showed her — a gift her father had given her with great affection.

So absorbed were you in watching your children that you did not notice the approaching steps. Only when you felt a gentle kiss pressed to your hair, arranged in a delicate style by your ladies that morning, did you turn your attention to the one beside you.

“Papa!” Loras called from the grass, running toward you with his small wooden sword held tightly in his hands.

You lifted your face to him, and at once met the deep green eyes of your husband. Gwayne watched you with the same steady warmth and intensity he had carried since the day your paths first crossed.

A subtle smile formed on Gwayne’s lips as he saw little Loras running toward him with such excitement.

“I see you are already training without your master.”

Loras stopped before him, slightly out of breath from his short run, yet with pride shining in his eyes.

“I am becoming strong like you, papa.”

“Is that so?”

Gwayne arched a brow slightly before lowering himself to the boy’s height.

“Then let me see your guard.”

Loras immediately raised his small wooden sword with all the seriousness a five-year-old could muster. Gwayne held back a smile and gently adjusted the boy’s hands upon the hilt.

“Like this. Hold it firm, but not too tight. A sword should obey the hand that holds it, not the other way around.”

The boy nodded as though receiving the most important lesson of his life and tried again, this time with more confidence.

“Much better.”

Gwayne smiled with quiet pride and ruffled his hair before giving him a light pat on the shoulder.

“In a few years, you may even manage to defeat me.”

“I will defeat you!” Loras answered through laughter.

“Oh? Then I shall have to train even harder.”

The two engaged in a brief wooden-sword duel, Loras laughing each time his father pretended to yield, while you watched in silence. There was no battle more important to Gwayne in that moment than the joy shining on his son’s face.

At the sound of a soft babble, he turned his attention to Emmeline. He stepped closer to you and leaned over the child resting in your arms. The moment his eyes met hers, the little girl broke into a wide, toothless smile.

“And my sweet lady…” he murmured softly, gently brushing her tiny hand. “Have you been keeping your mother company while I was away?”

Emmeline answered only with another babble, drawing a quiet chuckle from him.

“I take that as a yes.”

Gwayne turned his gaze to you, finding you already watching him with a look full of warmth.

“And my beloved…”

His voice was low, almost a whisper meant for you alone. Without haste, he cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours in a chaste but deeply affectionate kiss.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours for a brief moment before sitting beside you on the bench with a quiet sigh.

“I hope I am not interrupting an important meeting between lady wife and my little ones.”

“Not at all. I believe we were merely waiting for your return.”

A faint smile touched his lips.

As Gwayne settled Loras onto one of his knees and absentmindedly ruffled the boy’s hair, you spoke again:

“Did you receive any letters from King’s Landing this morning?”

He looked up at you and nodded.

“I did.”

“From your sister?”

“Yes. Alicent wrote some days ago.”

A brief silence followed before he continued, calm as ever.

“She says the days at the Red Keep remain as troubled as ever. She asked after you, after Loras… and insisted on knowing how little Emmeline is faring. She requested that, when the child is a little older, we send a portrait of the family.”

A gentle smile warmed your face at his words.

“It is good to know she still finds time to write, despite all her duties.”

“I thought the same.”

Gwayne lowered his gaze to the half-asleep child in your arms and softly brushed her tiny hand.

“I believe she would take great joy in meeting her. Emmeline reminds me of Alicent when she was a child. She had the same curious eyes… though I hope our daughter inherits your calm.”

You let out a soft laugh.

“And Loras?”

Gwayne cast a fond glance toward the boy, who had now wandered off to declare war upon a shrub as though it were a fearsome dragon.

“Ah… that one, without a doubt, has inherited his father’s spirit.”

You laughed, watching your son run across the grass with his wooden sword raised, while Gwayne immediately followed his game, dodging his clumsy strikes as though facing a true opponent. Loras’s laughter rang through the gardens each time his father pretended to lose.

You adjusted Emmeline in your arms, holding her gently as she settled again, content.

You simply watched them.

And you could not help but smile.

At times, it still felt strange to believe that this was your life. That this man, whom you had once fallen in love with years ago, was now your husband. And that these two children were yours.

Your heart filled with a quiet warmth that words could hardly hold.

There were no urgent letters, no duties pulling Gwayne away that morning. For once, you were simply together, without haste.

The rest of the morning passed in the gardens, among the scent of roses, lavender, and rosemary. Loras kept challenging his father again and again, and Gwayne never refused, as though nothing in the world mattered more than those small victories. Emmeline, in turn, received every bit of attention she could steal from you both with her soft sounds and gentle smiles.

And as you watched them beneath the soft light of that morning, you understood that nothing was missing.

This was your place.

By the side of the man you loved, surrounded by your children, and by a peace that, for a brief moment, seemed to belong only to you.

And if the Gods were listening, you hoped they would allow you to keep it just a little longer — even as the world beyond the walls continued on its course.