intro log: august

[faileas]

Intro Log: August

I. ARRIVAL Out of nowhere, a glint of light catches your eye; your heart thunders in your ears as your body moves on its own, your mind consumed with inspecting the source. Your reflection stares back at you, just as curious from the surface - a mirror, a pool of water, your most trusted sword, something fleeting that your mind can barely remember - then ripples at your touch. A moment later, you feel a tug, and you find yourself stumbling into a dark, musty room. Behind you, a mirror stands ornately decorated with reminders of home wrought in brass and wood: the faces of people you know, and symbols important to you; all things that send a pang through your chest with the desire to return to them. Touching the mirror's surface does nothing but leave the stain of your fingerprints. When you turn to survey the room, you find there are hundreds of other mirrors. None of them are as decorated as yours - they're plain and dusty, speckled with age. Then you realize a second thing: You're not alone. Distantly, the ringing bell of a clocktower can be heard. But no matter its distance, the time is clear to make out: it chimes three times, stark, resonating like a pulse of something in this mirrored hall that you and many others have found yourselves in. For those familiar with magic, they might feel the power of the witching hour upon them, though it will feel different from what they're used to - in fact, everything does. You're certainly not the only ones here, however. On the first floor, with the doors wide open behind them in the foyer, is a small group headed by two individuals. As people begin to arrive, to come from the higher floor, they're waiting - and they're waiting for you, and your questions. Explore the rest of the mirrored halls you've now found yourselves in, or proceed to the foyer? Leaving the Looking-Glass House makes it obvious that the clock striking three was for 3 AM - the night sky is faintly cloudy, but the stars are brighter with the absence of the sister moons in the sky - it's the new moon, after all. The Looking-Glass House is rather nondescript two-story cottage made of grey brick, sitting at the edge of The Coven's courtyard; stones which glow as you step on them mark the path to and from the two buildings. While fairly small and plain on the outside, the inside has been enchanted to be the size of a large library, with hundreds upon hundreds of mirrors hanging, standing, and resting inside its walls. Some are broken, some are cracked, and some seem completely uninjured - but all of them are just as plain as the cottage itself, showing age in the silver beneath their glass and in the greening of their metals... Well, all except a character's personal mirror; to characters, one mirror - the one they came through - will be decorated lavishly with metal-and-wood-wrought reminders of home, and the surface will be as clear as a brand-new mirror.

II. THE WELCOME PARTY Whether you've decided to find a way out of the building you've arrived in, or decided to explore the rest of the Looking-Glass House - and perhaps finding a few familiar faces among the crowd - you feel a pull towards the foyer of the first floor. It's like a firm suggestion, as if to take you by the hand and draw you to where it begins, and the source of it becomes quite apparent upon finding one's way to the front room: a tall, comfortably-dressed older woman and her even taller wolfish companion. "There's always a right lot of you coming in, aren't there." The woman sets her hands on her hips, with her Bonded casting a glance at those looking confused - newly arrived - and those who may have followed them in to talk to the newest addition of their mirrorbound bunch. "About time for introductions though- this here's Mhairi Ainsley, ambassador to the Parliament and my Bonded, and I'm Nerissa Bell, Head Witch of the Coven - but you can just call me Miss Nessie, you can," she adds, winking. "The lot of you must be as tired and confused as the last batch - hullo to those who've joined us, too! - so just a moment, dearests, I'll set all you right up—" With nothing more than a wave of her hand, rows of insanely colorful seats are summoned; half of them are wooden (sturdy and comfortable besides that), with the rest being misshapen and bag-like. Regardless, the seats fill the foyer and spread out a ways into the lawn behind them, making room for all of the new arrivals as well as the previous batch, should they have come to check on things. The Witches and Monsters that accompanied Nessie and Mhairi move to make room, and some disperse into the building itself to see if there's anyone who needs tending to. Mhairi steps forward as the chairs materialize. "Please, those who are able, join us for a moment. There are many questions that I'm sure you have - we will do our utmost best to answer them, and you may take any that we can't as a promise to find some sort of solution or answer." NOTE: If you wish to interact with Nessie and Mhairi, please comment here. You have the option of handwaving the IC interaction to OOCly ask what questions your character might have for them, for us to summarize an answer for, or you can request an IC thread. Simply specify in your comment's subject and we'll respond accordingly. Additionally, those with notable injuries or sickness will be attended to ASAP by Coven-based witches, and should anyone be curious about what they are - if they have magic potential, or if they swing a different way - then this can be done during this and the general hour or so the new arrivals are within the Coven's grounds. There are ongoing classes on magic, monsters, and Bonding as well, though they take place more during the day than at night - feel free to have your characters attend them at any time!

III. THE HAVEN After an hour or two of general chaos, questions that the natives attempt to help with, and injuries tended to for those who arrive in poor condition, it's time to make a trek through a bit of leftover ice and snow to where you'll be staying while Nessie and Mhairi continue to search for a solution to the situation. As you're leaving with a few Bonded for guides, peculiar-looking devices - watches, the native Witches explain, compliments of Parliament - are passed around to all the new arrivals; they're given a quick rundown on their functions and bid to test them out when they can. They can even do it as they make their way out of the Coven's courtyard and to the Haven. Formerly part of the Aristocratic District, The Haven is just as well-kept and brightly-lit as the district it hails from. The houses err on the tall and ornamental-side, large enough to fit several families (or, according to the upper class, their one family, several dozen servants, and guests), especially closest to the Aristocratic District. They become a little more modest and smaller as one gets away from the realm of high society and nearer to the Residential District proper. Newcomers are shuffled here and invited to find somewhere to live - the Coven is currently handling expenses for the houses themselves in a program implemented by the Parliament, though if your character wishes to have anything extra - like maids, chefs, and so on - they'll have to pay for them themselves with their own earned money. Much of the landscape and fixtures are the same as in the Aristocratic Districts, though it lacks formal emergency services due to its roots as part of a district that already did. Much of the housing already has furnishing due to the speed at which homeowners were relocated; they were given enough time to collect their valuables, but standard furniture such as kitchenware, couches, beds, etc. were left behind for those moving in. Other houses appear the same, but the dust on the floors suggest these houses were left before the new arrivals even showed up - a reminder that the Cwyld can strike just about anyone, regardless of standing. Another portion of this district has been opened up to the new arrivals: the barracks, the row of buildings pressed against the very edge of the Bright Wall. As the city's military force no longer has the same presence it previously did, the barracks have gone into disuse, and a cleanup effort has been in place since before the new arrivals came through the Looking-Glass House. For those who desire something a little less opulent, the barracks might just be the answer. The barracks can also be used for business, for a welcome center, a communal space, for anything that the residents of the Haven see fit to use it for - so long as the legality isn't questionable, on the surface. To help with filling up the larger houses - and even some of the smaller ones, and the shared rooms in the barracks - the Witches put together a little roommate finding service, on a smaller scale from the grand opening of the Haven. For those who aren't entirely sure who they want to shack up with, they have a small survey for them to fill out and post on the board they've magicked up in the center of The Haven. The board also very helpfully reads aloud each form for everyone to hear in a cheerful, monotone voice. It isn't able to be shut up, nor is it easy to ignore, being imbued with a kind of amplification magic. It reads simply the information you've offered up yourself, or that someone might have written up for you, should that be their idea of fun.

IV. LÙNASA Just like three months ago, those new to Aefenglom have found themselves brought to the city in the middle of a celebration. From dusk of Aguril 1st to the dusk of Aguril 3rd, Aefenglom celebrates something fairly special: Lùnasa. Traditionally, Lùnasa celebrates all kinds of traditional marriages sanctioned by Parliament, generally of the arranged kind, and handfastings, a ceremony based more on love and how long it lasts. The Coven's Bonds err on this side of things, though some Witches do have official spouses - Miss Nessie and Mhairi are an example of this, though not everyone marries their Bonded, either. Many of them are made during this festival, prompting the city to dress for the occasion just in case they find themselves in the middle of a ceremony, and just as many of them are formally renewed. Like during Litha, shops offer lovemaking potions, but only to those renewing vows or taking them; smaller fireworks, like sparklers and fountains, are also a common sight. Lùnasa is also home to the city's largest fashion show, showcasing fun and upcoming trends in the city. No experience is required to sign up to show off designs or to model them, and hundreds of tailors and needlework experts come together to quickly make dreams into reality for the end of the festival, when the show happens in genuine. The clothing is often wild and sorted into three categories: children, where those 14 and younger can submit their designs and model them as well; popular, where those 15 and older can do the same to try and vie for the judges' vote on what's in and what's out; and bonding, where all ages aspire to modify and make personal the traditional garbs of marriage and handfasting. While circumstances might be a little weird - and the month is a little cold coming in, given the snowstorm that happened at the end of last month - there's plenty to do, plenty to see, and plenty to take your mind off of just what a weird experience this all might be. Though those who have been in Aefenglom for a while now might notice something different over the course of the festival: they're a little more powerful than before, almost similar to the free-feeling that Boaltinn encouraged. Spells can still go awry, but the results will be much bigger - but it's frowned upon to use magic during festivals. Then again, characters will feel as if they're about to burn up if they don't use it a little... Well, just one spell beneath the shadow of the new moons wouldn't hurt, would it? a. JUST IN CASE While the city is dressed up on the off chance they might be roped into an impromptu wedding ceremony - it's likely that those who aren't native to Aefenglom don't have such luck. Thankfully, the tailors of city are offering free clothes on the caveat they advertise for them by wearing them around the festivities - they're long yet breathable garments, with colors that are fairly muted oranges and reds, not unlike the coming fall. It'd seem the fear of red skies from Litha has started to fade as nothing else too terrible has happened to the city at large, at least on the surface. And as it turns out, those offers might be better timed than they think: characters will be pulled into ceremonies at random to act as witnesses, to serve as dance partners for lonely folk, or just because they really needed someone to even out the numbers. b. ON THE CATWALK An annual occasion, the Aefenglom Fashion Show is always a bustling, bright time for those young and old to strut their stuff and try their best to either follow the latest trends, or spark them into being. Unfortunately, they're running a little low on models this year - many of their other ones decided to try their hand at sewing themselves - and so they're accepting volunteers! Willing or not; many of the more aggressive youths aren't above dragging those they deem perfect enough to wear their clothing to the back of the stage set up in the center of the Shopping District and pushing them out onto the catwalk dressed to the nines in all sorts of ridiculous-looking styles. c. EYE-CATCHING A few of the newest fashionistas in town have tried their hand at some rather... peculiar-looking clothing - but none so peculiar as those found in Precogstitchin' or Arwel's Tailory, in two completely different ways. While those who try on a piece or two of Precogstichin's wares will find themselves the center of attention due to their rather avant-garde shape, color, and pattern choices - not to mention accessories and rumor of being made of arachne silk! - those who try on Arwel's wares will find themselves being stopped quite frequently in the street despite the rather plain and dull colors and formless shapes the tailory provides as free samples. d. NEW MOON RITES While native Witches bemoan their weakened magics - some even expressing relief the new moon happens to land on a festival this year so they don't have to notice just how weak they are, mirrorbound Witches will find themselves feeling just the opposite: they're stronger. For those that chance a little magic despite the unspoken rules of the festivals in Aefenglom, they'll find the expelling of energy to be very relieving, as if a weight lifts off their shoulders. For those that refuse the siren's song of release, however, sparks of magical energy will fly from them, with a myriad of results - enchanting inanimate objects, transforming animals from one thing to another, starting small fires, creating illusions of the person or creature they fear the most... and so on.

Welcome to the intro log! While mingling on the log itself is highly encouraged, feel free to make your own logs; take the prompts offered and go wild, go crazy, go stupid, have fun. The network system is free to use once characters have their watches as well; information on that can be found at the bottom of the Setting page, while any extra questions about it can be found in the FAQ index. Quests can be picked up now as well! While new characters will have to get settled in, you can go ahead and put your name on some by replying to the August's Quest Pickup thread on the Quest Board. Finally, if your character is getting into any Shenanigans, let the mods know, and if you have any questions about the log, ask them here!

Comments

wildcard

[freeing]

[ Initially, it seems the fates were unkind as they have not crossed paths since their arrival. Missed chances by minutes, by feet - it was clear that there was a time and place for such a reunion. It was here at the end of the Lunasa celebration that things lined up.

It was rounding the end of the evening. Vendors and tailors began to close shop, go home to their loved ones and let the festivity become a long-remembered memory. Between the fashions and celebration of marriages and bonds, Daenerys is at odds with her feelings on the matter. She'd be a cruel woman if she shunned the concept of this other culture's tradition, but she finds no room to celebrate.

She went out for information - failing a bit spectacularly at it. She is not subtle in her own bitterness to being brought here, fishing for any poor fool who may be of a higher standing than her to assist in her whims. From a Queen to a stranger in a crowd, Daenerys tries to simply return to the apartment she claimed as her own.

She refuses a few vendors still keen on selling, flagging her down to offer discounted lovepotions. It was mere moments before a flash of silver lights down the street. Spells set off as some closing ceremony for the day is some impromptu fireworks show. Dazzling bursts of flames, a blast of electricity crackling across in intricate shapes. Daenerys stops in the middle of the street to marvel at it. In just the right moment when the sky becomes brightened like day, anyone who knew the Targaryen could see the hardened features and intricate braids pulled back to her pale blonde hair. :) ]

[heartsbane]

[ fates are still unkind when considering the circumstances that have pulled them here in the first place, but at least they are destined to find each once again. just as Daenerys felt herself alone among the Dothraki so long ago, she will soon find a fellow Westerosi to help find herself a place in this new world.

they just have to finally fucking find each other for that to happen.

fortunately for the both of them, their bad timing and the dense population doesn't stretch out through more than the first evening. Jorah has idly wondered if he might find anyone here that he may know, but he didn't want to believe that his Queen would have been summoned here. he didn't run through the streets and ask every single individual he crossed paths with if they had seen a woman with silver-gold hair. what would be the chances? he is anxious and stressed enough with the idea of not being able to return to her to show he completed his mission.

he has tried to remain focused on what he is to be doing now that he is in the Haven. most of it was standing around, listening to the locals talk about the world in an attempt to gain information. he also tried to actually enjoy himself, to little success. regardless, he had been wandering the streets, people watching and idly watching the fireworks that began to illuminate the sky. one particular explosion makes the area bright enough for him to scan through the multiple heads of hair. most were black, brown, a few typical blonde...

... and then there was a certain head that stuck out among all of them. one that he could never mistake a day in his life, no matter what state he might find himself in. Jorah is a considerable distance away, so he squints his eyes and attempts to lean onto the tips of his toes to gain a better look. of course he still questions his sanity at this point, perhaps believing he is delusional and making things up. closer and closer he goes, building up speed with every step until he is close to pushing strangers over. sorry, not sorry.

once he finally makes it to the woman, he politely and hesitantly reaches out to grab the woman by her arm in hopes of twisting her around. he wouldn't dare do this to the true Daenerys, rather bowing and taking a knee than to get physical. but this isn't normal circumstances. not in the slightest. ]

Khaleesi—?

[freeing]

[ He had made vows to her. Ones that she intends for him to keep until the day he dies. She sent him off so recently after the betrayal she suffered, praying he found the cure in a world too cruel and cold. Wherever Ser Jorah found himself, it was far away from Daenerys when she arrived at Dragonstone.

The sad reality is he is closer to her here than he had been before. Sometimes feet or yards, sometimes seconds away from crossing paths.

The nip of cold still catches against her skin, her hands clad in leather gloves situate at her side. Surrounded by people, she had still felt so alone – a terrible thing for any Targaryen, but she survives. This display that sparks in front of them high into the starless sky brings almost a small smile on her face. It was unlike anything she had seen, any experience of magic (blood or otherwise) was limited truly to horrible tragedy or what she saw here now. How can things be so completely polarizing...?

Lost in thought, Dany is only pried away when someone grabs her arm from behind. Her heart leaps to her throat, foot stumbling to find a secure motion as she nearly keels over. Dany's face turns white in seconds – I mean.. he was a ghost to her, wasn't he?

There's a name she has not heard once since arriving. One that now, only a select few call her. Khaleesi – it feels like part of her is returned here and now as Jorah Mormont stands in front of her. ]

Ser Jorah – [ Her eyes grow soft, seeking out any reason to distrust the vision in front of her. Her hand reaches for him, for his wrist to make sure he's real. ] – It can't be you.

this scene but no handholding

[heartsbane]

[ if Jorah is anything, it is persistent. apparently he should use that as one of his three words for one of those stupid surveys he had been glancing through beforehand. he didn't think he could honor his promise to Dany upon realizing how definite everyone was describing the situation as. curing greyscale seemed improbable and he had also lost hope for that as well. for all she knew, he was on the other side of Essos, body turned completely to stone and living with the other men who had lost their minds to the disease.

far from it, as she can tell now. the two of them see each other for the first time in a long, long while. of course he remembers her every feature like he had just seen her the day before, the portrait of her face and body something embedded behind his eyes. that's why he had concerned himself with putting things into existence that were not truly there. by the time he sees the familiar curls of her brows, the pout of her lips as she speaks... it is solidified. someway, somehow, he had managed to cut the journey of reuniting with his khaleesi by half. ]

I— I believe it is. I hope it is. I do not know much anymore, but I... I am still Jorah.

[ she moves to try and touch his wrist, and his body is howling for him to reach forward and touch her face as well. muscle memory reminds him of how careful he had been over the months, avoiding touching any other living being in hopes of not spreading his disease. said memory is hard to break away from, and it has certainly resulted in him doing last minute movements to resist physical contact with new people he has met. he just wishes it didn't happen with Daenerys of all people, and yet it does anyway. Jorah doesn't just pull his hand away from the vicinity of her features; he takes an assumptive step back to ensure she didn't touch him.

a sigh follows as he bites on his lip, frustrated with the moment becoming confusing for his body. he's washed with happiness that he found her somehow, and he can't properly display it. that is the definition of disappointment. ]

Daenerys... I do not have the words.

now i'm the cucked one

[freeing]

[ Jorah's loyalty was unfounded. It was something she not only sorely missed, but felt was one of the hardest things for her to face. His loyalty brought conflict and pain, kept her up at night and tested her rule as Queen. Yet, she wanted him to live. Wanted him to scour the edges of the known maps of their world to find a cure. It was a selfish wish, one that was not of a red door housed with a lemon tree or an Iron Throne – it was of someone she held dear to her returning to her life.

There would be no world worth ruling if those she vows to protect and those loyal to her befall a fate crueler than death.

He looks tired, true – her eyes dart across grain of his growing beard and how unkempt his hair had become. Daenerys has so many questions, so many words they butt against one another in her throat and she fumbles as he does. ]

I hope so too.

[ They find a common ground in their dreams and longing, you know. It was only natural their hope did the same. Her fingers curl into nothing as he pulls back and steps from her. The shock making her lip barely quiver and brows show a sympathy he has only seen in the worst cases.

She pulls her hand back to her, clenching at the fabrics of her attire right at her chest. ]

Then find only one word for my question: did ... did you find a cure?

thank god

[heartsbane]

[ there's a rush of feelings overwhelming Jorah in the moments that follow him reuniting with her. he's far too lost in the daze to process any of it. the lingering guilt over once betraying her so long ago, the satisfaction of finding his cure and being able to return to her like some kind of hero... it's all blurred and not easy to separate. it's been less than a minute standing before her, and yet, he feels like he has been staring at her like a fool for hours on end.

he does his best to try and regain some semblance of control. it'll inevitably fail, mind you, but he does straighten his posture and make an attempt at acting like the Ser she knows him to be. his arms fold behind his back as he clears his throat, tongue running over dry lips. he opens his mouth to speak, and yet... no words once more. fortunately she asks her question, which even then requires a few moments to process. finally, he gives her a slow, reassuring nod. ]

I did. I am cured, khaleesi. And I was... I was returning to you as soon as I could. I did not expect to find you so... so quickly.

[ she should know what he means. she'd left Meereen and he only recently found out about Dragonstone before this all happened. Dany's likely gone through even more since he has once again left her, and he is equal parts afraid and interested to hear every little bit of it. he would love to sit with her and simply talk for hours on end, to distract themselves from the fact that the Iron Throne was but a fleeting memory. ]

You must forgive my bluntness, but—

—it is a fucking blessing to see you, even more-so now of all times.

[freeing]

[ His answer leaves the knot in her stomach tightening. Finally, some good news among all of this. Not of a way home, not of someone knowing the Targaryen name, or her children soaring through the skies about her – but something she had hoped for since she sent Jorah away.

He went on a mission, one a Queen sends her Knight, and he accomplished it. It all sounded so simple when she thinks of it like that, masking herself ignorantly away from his struggles. Her gentle heart felt tormented of the misfortune, but it soars now to know there's someone here where she selfishly is not so alone. ]

I do not know why time feels so malleable when the world rushes at you, but you did as I have asked, Ser Jorah. You have appeased your Queen.

[ There's almost a laugh there – the way her eyes remain soft and lips curve up just enough among her own emotions. One part disbelief, one part happiness.

His bluntness does slice through them, telling of how trying this ordeal was. He would note she had no Grey Worm at her side, no Tyrion lingering behind her and no Missandei dutifully scurrying to keep up with the impulsive Queen. She was alone and he was her strength once again.

Tentatively, a hand lifts towards him as her feet carry her forward once more. ]

As it is to me. [ A blessing. ] Ser, may I welcome you back into my service, if you would allow me –?

now this works

[heartsbane]

[ it is being difficult, being torn into so many directions at once. Jorah has not had to feel such a way often. his devotion to Daenerys let his answers and feelings remain honest and true — after the initial hiccups that placed them at odds in the first place, anyway. he has other... complications... that are of a more emotional nature, but even those did not get in the way of offering her council and staying faithful at her side. between the tension of former betrayal, the relief of finding a cure and joy of reunion and the fear and disdain of having it be here, he finds himself lost for once. he usually has answers for anything she has to ask, but today is an exception.

hopefully she can learn to forgive him at least once more. ]

Hah. Your words... they warm me more than words describe.

[ any other scenario might make his eyes well up with tears, but he can't allow himself become so vulnerable. she needs someone to rely on, now more than ever before. he continues to stand tall, offering a genuine smile at the comfort she finds in him accomplishing his mission.

his arms untie themselves as Dany steps forward, her intent clear. he still recoils for half a second, but Jorah eventually relaxes. he knows he is healthy again. it will just take time for his body to remember that. she asks for his permission and he instead answers physically, a hand slowly and carefully reaching forward to grab her wrist. he clasps both of his hands around her, cradling it as he gives a firm nod. ]

I should be asking you for the permission, khaleesi. But you may do to me whatever it is your will desires. I am yours to command once again.

thanks boo

[freeing]

[ A part of her, one built from the sand of the Red Waste and the promise of Westeros had returned. It was almost bittersweet that it was in another world entirely that he returns to her. His guidance is needed, his wisdom invaluable even if they are far closer to being inexperienced in the customs and way of life here. Daenerys does not care.

She tenses when he reaches out, lips finally upcurving to a proud smile. Not as a Queen, not as a ruler receiving their loyal subject back – but as a friend. Her heart feels something she had not had since arriving, a hope that things will lead back to where they are suppose to go. Jorah Mormont, her exiled Knight, was a symbol of strength she needed. He takes her hands and he can feel a slight shake, unbefitting of a Queen but – she was not one here, was she?

Her hand slides up his arm, careful as she steps into him. An embrace of care, of relief and pride all rolled into one. Her arm around his back, his face cradled to the curve of her neck – she simply holds onto him to show that it was alright. All had been forgiven and she was so incredibly relieved to see him. ]

Thank you. [ Is all she mutters, remaining still slightly guarded by her own defense. ] It is so good to have you here with me.

[heartsbane]

[ he did in fact imagine things to go differently. a triumphant return would have been nice to feel after the embarrassment and shame of leaving her for the first time. even coming back to inevitably save her life did little to ease his conscious, simply hoping to ease his way back into her good graces. it was supposed to be in Westeros that they would meet once again, with Jorah further providing her the confidence and support she needed to earn the Iron Throne.

as happy as he is to see her again, it wasn't supposed to be here. she wasn't supposed to be here. everything she has worked so hard on... it's stripped from her like a snap of the fingers. the worst part is that he can do nothing to change that. he's just as helpless as her, and it's feelings like that that would be why he feels his chest tight and his stomach hollow. ]

No thanks are required, Daenerys. I am just happy that you needn't be alone now of all times.

[ he speaks softly into her ear as she embraces him, pressing his face against her hair and leaning into body. Jorah allows himself a moment to be selfish, his own arms coiling around her waist to enjoy feeling her warmth for at least a little while. he will remain with her as long as she decides she needs, not stepping away until she decides to. if she decides she needs to. poor bb might just want human contact, who knows. ]

I assume I am the first familiar face you have seen, as you are mine. How fateful. Unfortunate... but fateful.

[freeing]

[ It was triumphant enough now. Whether she shows it or not, this was something that fills her with a joy she had never encountered. A relief that she finds herself in the humble presence of someone that put her own stubbornness to test – that helped her grow as a Queen, whether he intended to or not.

They stand there in the middle of crowds, with magics sparking behind them and Daenerys feels as if time had come to a halt. The emptiness she felt without her dragons, the fear for the people she vowed to give the Seven Kingdoms – Jorah eases it away even if for a moment.

Daenerys does not allow their grasp to linger for too long. She is aware of the man's feelings, of his devotion on a level she could never fathom. He sees her more than a Queen, but as a woman – so she pulls back slowly, maintaining the small smile on her features. There was no awkwardness as she still holds onto his forearms respectfully, tilting her head upwards to him. ]

Fate is a funny thing no matter the world, Ser. [ Now, she simply looks around them, soaking in the reality that this was where they were now whether they liked it or not. ] Tell me, have you found a place to rest your head?

[heartsbane]

[ damn, Dany. why you gotta pull the rug out from underneath him like that.

when she pulls away, Jorah regrets the loss of warmth. the moments of intimacy between them that were mutually shared, albeit for completely different reasons. he doesn't show said regret in his face, however, managing to offer a warm smile of his own even in the midst of the small beard he has grown over the course of leaving the citadel a new man. there's many things for them to discuss — events transpired between the both of them back in their lands, what they last remembered before arriving here, what they plan to do...

at least time is the only thing they are afforded now. once upon a time, he didn't even believe he had that much. ]

Shelter is... strange here. I filled one of the surveys they offered and have not received a response. But— [ Jorah attempts to separate his own want for more physical contact by taking a step backwards, arms returning to his sides once more. ] —my priority has now shifted to more important matters. Have you found a place to stay, my Queen?

[freeing]

[ SLOWBURN, SLOWBURN. WE GOTTA SLOWBURN.

They were both different now. Dany hardened a bit, even if her willingness to forgive and truly welcome him back was clear in how she greets him. Jorah had gone through hell – something she demands to know more of when they have a moment to stop the city from spinning around them.

Anxiously, both of her hands clasp in front of her torso, right below the swell of her breast. Collected, but he can see how her thumb rubs against her own digits. The crowd was quite a lot and she motions for him to follow her with a sudden flit of her eyes to the side.

She walks, hoping to have some clear thoughts away from the festivities. ]

I do not know how they organize the placement of those brought here, but I merely claimed a portion known as an "Apartment" in one of the districts. Someone helped explain the process to me, it was similar to a monastery, I believe. Multiple floors, private quarters for those who stay in the building. However, it ... is a bit more fleshed out than a simple bed.

[ JORAH PLEASE FIND A GOOD PLACE TO LIVE. ]

It is not much, no pyramid or abandoned keep. ...I am not a Queen here, I do not receive anything befitting of one.

[ Her voice shows a bit of sadness, but she is honest at least. ]

Would you be opposed to looking over the building I chose? For your own dwelling.

[heartsbane]

[ Dany doesn't know how to slowburn. she literally blows things up with fire.

Jorah has literally hardened in the time they spent apart, and he has the scars to show it. at least he is of flesh and bone again and nothing else. —for now. what is waiting for them in the near future is something he is ignorant to, and even though he's interacted with many interesting people and creatures by now, he doesn't dare assume he or Daenerys would be encountering such a fate.

he stands at attention like the adviser he has always been, following her from a short distance behind as she decides to walk and talk. the fireworks make for a nice backdrop, one that brings an odd sense of comfort in a moment of confusing emotions. talk of living conditions is one he has been dealing with before the festival, and it appears Daenerys has been dealing with just as much of a headache as him. only when she talks of not being a Queen does he grow proactive again, once again touching her when he normally wouldn't. her waist is squeezed on as he forces her to turn to look at him once more. ]

You will not say that again, khaleesi. It isn't the world that makes you a Queen. It is the person you are meant to be. And you will always be my Queen.

[ Jorah's fingers linger for a second longer before he pulls away, giving a short, apologetic bow in the process. he moves on quickly enough. ]

I would not. I do not want to impede on your privacy, but now that I know you are here, I need to ensure I am close by. We can go now if you would like.

[freeing]

[ STOP SHE'S SEASON 7.

It was an idle truth she could not ignore. She ruled people who needed a Queen of compassion and kindness – intent on breaking the wheel that keeps them in chains. She was just as powerless as the ones brought here – she's spoken to them since arriving, desperate for answers and some form of connection. Finding Jorah here was a blessing, something she can never chalk up to happenstance. It was destiny – and Daenerys believed in hers.

The sudden twist back leaves her showing an expression of shock, one that Jorah may have never truly saw before. Words fail her. She can not refute him – not when he so devotedly reminds her of what she inspires. How badly she tries to encourage others to keep going. ]

Ser Jorah – [ There's a tension in her stomach, an uncertainty to the way he tries to root sense into her. Never presume to touch me or speak my name again. It feels like far too long ago when she uttered those words and now? His touch lingers long enough for her to regain her senses as well. As he pulls away she nods, as if he spoke something into existence once more. ] Right. You.. you are right.

[ It was a topic she will discuss later – when she can have more weight in her conviction. When others will believe her to be Queen.

They walk once more in the direction of the apartment building, not stopping to the tailors or last minute offerings from the vendors. ]

I believe there are plenty of empty quarters to claim as your own. I came with nothing, but there are locks and privacy for you to keep your weaponry guarded. It is better than living on the streets. [ Trust her: she knows. She did see him armed, his sword at his side, at least. ] ...Since arriving... have you seen them?

[ The way she speaks, slow and careful – as if trying not to get her hopes up – hangs in the air. He can clue in what she was asking. ]

[heartsbane]

[ Jorah remembers her words from before with much pain and discomfort. he still feels apprehension in assuming it is okay to say her name or touch her, knowing that she isn't one to easily retract her words. one day, he'll give himself a break and finally believe he has cleaned the slate and earned himself back into her good graces. even now, he feels he has to earn it. maybe even more so than before. after all, he is all she can rely on. ]

Good. Glad that is settled.

[ it says something that he would dare touch her so bluntly now. as trying as this experience has been, he must insist that Daenerys remain on her own two feet. she doesn't have her Unsullied, her dragons nor does she have any of her followers. Jorah isn't so quick as to assume that she should simply become Queen of this land, but she is still of Targaryen blood. it means something even here. he will strive to ensure everyone else knows that. ]

My sword will not be stored away anytime soon, khaleesi. But I appreciate the concern. You deserve your privacy the most.

[ no handmaidens for you this time around. time to teach Jorah how to properly do your hair, Dany.

at the talk of them, he has to cautiously survey their surroundings as they walk together, attempting to determine if she was speaking of anyone specifically. her words are vague but said in a way that insists she is being careful. he picks up on context clues and simply breathes deeply through his nose in return. ]

I have. And I have no answers for you as of yet. All I know is that there are worse things than Stone Men that exist.

[freeing]

[ She did not scorn him as she would before. Even if he returned to Westeros, it would be her who embraced him. He knows his place, he respects his place at her side. This situation was different, however. They needed each other – a face, a tether to the world left behind, a sliver of hope.

Now that they had begun to walk, she nods and adjusts her gaze back to him. ]

You must rest sometime, my friend. Your sword will only weigh you down. [ His devotion was unmatched but he is still human(?). Mortal, at the very least. ] If you seek privacy as well, please consider staying close to me. I am not so sure of the people here but I now know your intent clearer than ever.

[ If anything, his betrayal and her forgiveness ignites a sense of faith in him. It scares her that she forgives him when she would behead anyone else or burn them with dragonfire if they betrayed her. Fate had brought them back together, again and again – a Queen does well to keep her most loyal subjects alive, after all.

Her fingers lace in front of her, walking slower as the sensitive subject arises. ]

You... believe so? They are like creatures from nightmares, but they are people. They speak as if this is normal, accept it as simply nature. [ It is abnormal, but she looks down to her own hands. ] They are not the Witches this world speaks of. They are something else.

[heartsbane]

I will not allow myself to grow encumbered. You needn't worry about me.

[ aka his sword isn't going nowhere and even you can't tell him otherwise. after being gone from her for so long, she has to prepare that he will attach himself to her lip like a puppy dog. or baby bear. whatever is more tongue-in-cheek for this situation.

she insists herself that he remain close, and he lets out a happy little sigh that she will hopefully not notice. Jorah is relieved to hear her provide him permission, but he knows to still give her the room and space a young woman needs. what Daenerys deserves. simply being close enough to be at her beck and call is enough for him. ]

I understand the want to treat them as normal. Believe me when I say it pains me to look like a fool or hypocrite.

[ Jorah understands that they're to be embraced like the men and women who bear powers of their own. this place is far more mystical than that of Essos, where only rumors and tales of magic existed, let alone fearsome beasts similar to some of the people — as Daenerys has described — he has already crossed paths with. it's a delicate topic, surely, and one that requires further investigation. add it to the ever-growing list of things for him to do, something that has grown exponentially within the last five minutes. ]

We must still be apprehensive. Do not allow yourself to trust anyone so easily. I am the last to give that advice, but I hope you understand.

[freeing]

I will, please grow use to it.

[ Worry, she means. There's a shooting glance, as if demanding he not question her further on it. As they move through the crowd, away from the action and last bit of people trying to make the most of the festivity, Daenerys feels at odds with him. She does not want to fear those who have at least helped her as much as they could. ]

They are strangers, but so were the slaves in the Free Cities. Missandei. You. [ Of course, she does not enlist them to a cause that puts her on a throne here, but... she stops mid-step to address him directly. ] How will we ever find answers unless we gain their trust in return?

[ Dany frowns a bit, eyes looking down as if she was a child who had Jorah's words go through one ear and out the other. It truly takes her a few moments to weigh his words. Still in awe that he was standing before her. Offering advice as if no time had passed between them. ]

But... I will be more thoughtful in my reservations. If only to live by your council. [ There is a small, forced smile on her tired features. ] I... do not have anything here. No love. No birthright. No children. No army. Only you. I will need your strength once again and I offer a promise to you: we will return home. I have faith in that.

[heartsbane]

[ mumblemumble. whatever, Dany. he'll get used to it if he wants. you're not his real mom.

insert daddy joke here. ]

Daenerys... This is far from that of the Free Cities. I fear you may not find another Missandei here waiting for the right person to follow.

[ he understands the need to try and equate that of this world to their home, but it isn't. that is a simple fact. and while Jorah had just drove home how important it is for her to continue to think of herself as a Queen, he can't have her walking the streets and attempting to connect with them like they were normal subjects. almost any of these supposed monsters have a physical advantage over him, let alone Dany. he wants nothing more than for her gentle heart to persist, but not at the cost of putting her in danger. ]

We shall take it day by day. Weed out the good and the bad. There are surely some that we can learn to rely on... with time. Time is important.

[ he's just as comforted that he can speak to Dany like this again. it all comes back so naturally. the advice, the back-and-forth, the almost-constant arguing between the two. Jorah may have been apprehensive by many things, but he never shows hesitation when it comes to telling her what is on his mind.

there's a moment where he was about to speak too soon when it's in regards to her having "no love", but he doesn't have a place. Jorah instead restrains himself, listening intently and giving her a nod of acknowledgement when she pushes forward with confident. ]

We shall. It does not need to be said, but I shall say it for you again — I shall lay down my life for you should it help you return.

[freeing]

[ Just this icon in response.

Jorah's words do mean the world to her. It was not until this moment that she lets them sink in, hook her – it was truly a miracle to have him back. The poor misfortune of their paths being far from Westeros was put aside, Dany sees the beauty in what reunion they do have. ]

I will never try to replace her. Nor to anyone else for that matter. [ Defensively, she states her thoughts on that fairly clear. ] If we do not show a willingness, they will always be strangers – never allies.

[ And that is who she has to win over. People with more experience. With a better chance at answers. He comes to an agreement with her – as she does with him. Her stubbornness stands firm to ensure they will try to make the best out of a situation where they are both the same: captors. The monsters and witches were not responsible for the circumstances they find themselves in and she does not hold no blame to them. Not unless she learns they are the ones dragging them through the mirrors.

Direct, she does not falter in her view but – he has reminded her time was the hardest part of their journey. Thoughtfully, she lets it sink in. ]

But, we will approach cautiously. I will hold your advice close to me, my bear.

[ There's a slight twist to her features. The sentiment had almost come to pass many times thus far. Dothraki rider, freeing Slaver's Bay, facing the Sons of the Harpy when he did not need to. Dany keeps her hands clasped in front of her, but there's a quickness to her steps – finally the pathways they walk are quiet. ]

Let us hope it does not come to that.

[heartsbane]

I did not think you would. —Or could, for that matter.

[ she has (had) some truly unique, special people at her side. it will be hard for these strangers to ever try to fill that void, let alone provide something remotely similar as a replacement. Missandei will be sorely missed. gods, Jorah may even feel like he can admit to missing the likes of Tyrion and even Barristan.

which, reminder: thanks D&D for never showing Jorah's response to finding out Barristan got killed. maybe he'll find out here at some point!?!?

Jorah gives her a dutiful nod. he won't stop her from remaining optimistic. his goal is to be mindful and observant, and if Daenerys is unable to restrain herself, he will simply yank her the fuck back if she does anything foolish. they're back to being normal enough for that, right? right. ]

Ah, it warms my heart to hear that pet name of yours, khaleesi.

[ and probably makes an audible tink come from his armor, but we'll ignore that. Jorah follows her until they're more alone, where their voice can speak normally. they likely have someways to go, so it's time to play catch up. ]

It is likely not to our benefit to talk of the past right now, but I am too curious for my own good. What were you doing last before you came to here?

[freeing]

[ It was the people she surrounds herself with that empowers her. That gives her a fuel to the endless flames that burn inside of her. Having Jorah here was a blessing she can't bring to words – it felt like the close of a chapter of Daenerys Stormborn that she wanted to move on from. Essos was far from her mind, only the throne. Part of her wondered if she would ever see Jorah again – hell, if she'd ever return to the simple life without war or chasing a damn chair made of swords.

So much had happened. Barristan's death, Daario left behind, the allegiance with the Greyjoys and Master of Whispers from Westeros – now there was little she could do to return to where her mind had been for years.

Adjusting to the current task in front of her now. ]

It is cold, so hold onto that warmth. [ A small smile soon follows. Khaleesi – it warmed her as well. His next question seems odd, but for her – he had not returned to her. She assumes he had not heard of her travels. ] We had just taken Dragonstone. It was empty, abandoned and dead. It was a ghost of what I envisioned it, but it is secure.

[ A pause: ]

...Did you remain in Essos? Perhaps went to Asshai...?

[heartsbane]

You may find it hard to believe, but I embrace the cold like a long-lost lover. It has been a long time.

[ he didn't get to return to Westeros, to travel past the wall or set foot in Winterfell. the last several years have been primarily dirt and sand for the man, with a sun beating down on his shoulders and salt in the wind from the many bodies of water he has traveled. if there's anything to enjoy about this foreign land, it's how the bite of chill nips at his skin. Jorah won't lose the importance of her words, however. the cold only makes those warm moments all the more to savor.

Jorah listens intently as Daenerys explains her recent events to him. he has known about Dragonstone, of course, through his research in an attempt to reunite with her. learning of her successfully taking it without having to fight Lannisters or Baratheons brings a brief smile on his face, but then he realizes Dragonstone is without its queen. ]

I cannot fathom what your disappearance has done to the political landscape.

[ Tyrion has likely grown a grey beard already, and poor Missandei must feel lost and confused. it's a painful thought to bear, and one he regrets planting in Dany's mind. good thing she has asked about his past, which he is more than happy to speak of if it provides a proper distraction. ]

I traveled many places in a short period of time. At the end, I was closer to King's Landing than you. The Citadel was where I found a cure. It... it has been a long journey. Too many words, too little time.

[freeing]

I can't even imagine, Ser. It feels unforgiving, a bit harsh.

[ She, of course, was being flowery with her choices. Almost as if she was alluding herself to being the cold. Where she once had shunned and exiled him – now she embraces him too. Funny, a Targaryen being likened to the cold. What an odd twist of fate.

She fumbles with her fingers as she walks, twisting them with a sense of nervousness. To sate her own feelings. Even as she was so pleased to have a familiar face here, she tries to hold her emotions back. Her fears and concerns – it must be hidden and instead a Queenly demeanor present.

Her expression merely falters at his mention of her disappearance. ]

That... was a concern of mine, yes. Without a Queen to fight for, they sit idle. They sit on a dead castle, overlooking a dead sea with allies who want to see the mother of dragons.

[ Her sadness does linger, as if she let her people down. ]

We shall return to them. I swear it.

[ We being the main word there. His own adventures become a topic to distract, yes yes! It makes her brows furrow sympathetically, lips part as if she lets out a pained noise. He was right – she doubts words could sum up his experiences. She knows not of what rests under his clothes or the torment he experienced but... ]

Soon. I want to hear about it soon. It is only right to know what you have experienced to return into my service. Not to humble my soul, but to allow me to show my appreciation.