#hbd lily

Mal Volari and Tyril Starfury found themselves in the elegant gardens of the White Tower palace. Rich tapestries and gilded frames adorned the walls of the halls that led them there. The garden itself teemed with vibrantly colored flora and was bathed in warm, beautiful sunlight. Before them stood Daenarya and Maiele, their partners, radiant in their regal attire, posing for a portrait. The air was filled with a sense of nobility, and the room was abuzz with whispers of admiration for the pair's noted accomplishments in saving the realm of light. 

A mischievous smile spread on Mal's face as he sprawled across a lavish red velvet chair, one leg hanging over the armrest. He watched Daenarya with unabashed adoration as she hugged close to Maiele, the pair wearing matching grins. His gaze drifted to Tyril, who stood aloof, his stoic demeanor a stark contrast to Mal's own. 

As the artist worked diligently, Daenarya and Maiele shared secrets in hushed tones too quiet for anyone to overhear, their laughter echoing through the space. An occasional reminder by the artist to keep still kept them in check.

Mal's eyes sparkled as he tried to decipher their whispers. He was certain he could read lips. He thought he had gotten it down to a science, yet Daeanarya had assured him time and time again he wasn't even close. Whether that was true or she just wanted to keep him guessing, he could never be positively sure. Either way, it wouldn't stop him from trying.

Tyril continued observing in silence, his gaze never leaving Maiele. His face was an unreadable mask, but a faint hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, yet those who knew him were familiar with the sentiment. It hadn't left since the moment Maiele entered his life.

Mal's prolonged audible exhale broke the serene atmosphere. When his sigh didn't get the reaction he intended, he repeated the gesture louder and with a more dramatic flair, pulling the eyes of many in the room, but he was only after one.

"Are you quite alright?" Tyril scowled at his uncivilized behavior.

"Since you asked—" He slipped further into the plush cushioning. "Why do Daenarya and Maiele get a royal painting, and we don't?" he grumbled, his tone laced with playful envy. "We were there too."

"You were given the choice to have a portrait commissioned," Tyril responded, his voice measured and precise, not giving into Mal's tantrum. "However, you chose that ridiculous diamond instead." 

Mal held out the gem in question, allowing it to catch the sunlight, scattering it into a dazzling array. "This diamond deserved to be freed, not hidden away in some rich snob's collection. I did it a favor." Mal's smile grew wider as he admired the gem's brilliance. "Leaving it would have been a disservice to such a precious treasure." He hugged and petted the stone as if it were a cherished pet.

Tyril's attempt to hide his frustration failed, a subtle crease forming between his brows that betrayed him. "I hope you plan to give that to Daenarya." His tone was firm as their gazes met in shared understanding. "She's far too good for a rogue like you."

Mal's shoulders slumped in feigned defeat. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, his eyes shining as he glanced toward her. "Perhaps I could have the diamond split in half. This way she and I can have matching stones. I get a piece, and so does she. That's romantic, right?"

Tyril's patience waned with each passing moment. "I hope for your sake that was in jest."

"So, that would be a no on the romance angle?"

A quiet exhale slipped from the elf's lips, betraying his diplomatic presence. His focus returned to the subjects of the royal portrait. His muscles relaxed as his gaze once more settled on Maiele, who continued to whisper and giggle along with Daenarya. 

"Wait—" Mal interrupted the elf's thoughts again. "Why aren't you getting a portrait?" A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes; his lips spread into a sly grin. "Did you take a gem too?"

Tyril's stoic countenance faltered as it only could in the rogue's presence. His brows knit together, and he regarded Mal incredulously before composing himself. "Certainly not. I have little need for glittering trinkets or having my portrait hung in a palace to collect dust." Despite being of a noble house himself, Tyril found the concept of ostentatious displays of wealth and vanity tiresome. 

"So your portrait isn't hanging triumphantly in House Starfury at this very moment?" Mal wagged his brow at Tyril.

"If such a portrait were to hang, it would be at the request of Maiele supported by Adrina," Tyril explained, the slightest purple hue flushed on his cheeks. "I protested profusely."

"He is something, isn't he," Mal mused, his attention shifting back to the subjects of the current portrait. "They both are."

"Indeed." With one word, Tyril said so much more. The admiration in his tone and the pride filling his eyes spoke volumes. 

"Perhaps they're both too good for us," Mal quipped.

"Just this once, you may be correct." Tyril couldn't stop the smile spreading on his lips as Maiele's gaze met his. 

The pair settled into silence, watching as Daenarya and Maiele continued to share secrets and laughter, their close bond on display even from a distance. The artist's strokes captured their essence, freezing a moment of their shared happiness and devoted friendship for all eternity.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this!

More about Mal x Daenarya: [Masterlist] [Mal’s Orphanage]