Who: Daenerys Targaryen + Closed Starters
When: All month, baby.
Where: Mainly Dorc.
What: Just closed starters, all about the draaama with their dilemma.
Warnings: Sad backstory eventually. Mentions of rape and strong depiction of slavery.
[ starters linked individually. ]
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eren
All she can do is hope Eren finds his way to her — she trusts him to an extent, he did not mince words or hide things. That kind of thing is truthfully needed now. ]
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he climbs the coven’s building with ease, and makes sure he’s quick about it— even reticent as his claws click against the ledge of the bathroom’s open window. it shouldn’t be too startling, he hopes— she knows he’s expecting him, and eren does not want to risk his voice being heard.
so, the window: he crawls in, his paces almost predatory to keep the silence as well as eye contact. it’s warm in here, though humid from steam. at other times, he’d find his throat itching to hiss from the droplets of water plaguing him, no matter how hot they were to soothe him. a soft glow of fluorescent orange shines from the ink that pierced his wings, arms, back and ribs underneath the gentle swish of fabric, enough that he gives them a look down and exhales. small relief. he’s protected from the water no matter how small or large the particles came to be.
his gaze, when it returns, is sympathetic when they spot the shimmer of scales down her neck, much like his jugular. the redness, the itching, it was unbearable enough that he’s resorted to . . . more extreme means to allow them growth.
eren can no longer wear shoes with how much his legs have grown to resemble a reptile’s, but he still pads toward the bath with a hand against the wall. for balance, to keep talons from snapping against tiled floors. with his hold off, and gently reaching for the water’s knob, he turns it enough for the water to cascade in small streams. sound. bubbling. anything to obscure his words when he finally speaks up, low and nearly a cautious hush beside her: ]
. . . They think you’re dangerous. [ if the parliament back in aefenglom has shown him as much, it wouldn’t be any different here. scales could mean anything, dragon, fae, merrow—
though their bird, whoever it was. might’ve mentioned fire. ] What happened?
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The sound outside of her window doesn't stir her from her position. She sits bare, unafraid of who would glance upon her. The door had been locked and the only entry was for those she encouraged to find her.
Their eyes meet through the steam, a slight acknowledging nod to him. Even with him here, she remains distant. She fears Jorah and even Lloyd would feel it now – the pain of her scales and the anger she brought forth earlier.
The stream of water returns once more and she looks up, arms resting on the rim of the tub as she buries her cheek to her forearm. ]
They're smart to. [ Daenerys wanted to burn the entire building down – the anger engulfing her more than she'd like. She cared not of their allies, of the other mirrorbound. Being trapped and questioned... it broke her eventually, even if they were "pleasant". They spoke to her like a curious child breaking curfew. ] I was attempting to find more about this Morgana woman. I did so without much discretion, I suppose. They... questioned me for a few hours.
[ Her eyes don't look to him, staring off through their corners to the ripples of water. ]
No animosity, simply wanting to understand me. To know where I came from, why I wanted to involve myself. I do not much like discussing the past.
[ If I look back, I am lost. ]
Something changed inside of me.
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[ he knows he’s dangerous. just about anyone is, but with this sort of power— they’re doubled, and he knows it. especially when they don’t know how to use it. especially when what’s planted in them wants to erupt and they had no means, other than an anchoring bond, to smooth them into doing otherwise.
eren is no boy, but a man who knows where his duty and responsibility lies. he looks to her as if fully clothed, no malice in his slit eyes neither is there wandering. he only comes forth to stand between the nearest wall and the tub, crouching until his legs bend (he’s very tall now, crouching has him at her equal sitting height) and touching the water at the other end of the bath with an outstretched arm-wing, hesitantly, with his fingertips.
oh, that’s hot. nothing’s “too hot” to get him to pull away anymore, though, it’s refreshing— he hasn’t touched water in months, and it might show in the way he subtly relishes the heat and the fluidity. all of dany’s words are heard, a dip in his head when she acknowledges her own audacity. it’s getting somewhere. he’s picked up a thing or two about morgana from the populace, but first: ]
It’s going to keep changing. Inside and out. [ until they were complete. ] You’re bonded, aren’t you?
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I know. [ It was not a pretty sight. How red and inflamed like coal itself lodged under her silver scales. ] I am. I took caution and procured such bonding before leaving. The meeting we had with the others — it gave me some insight to prepare.
[ Daenerys wonders if she will look like Eren, if she will twist and change where her beautiful body would become something ugly and unfitting for a woman. ]
Do you breathe fire, ser?
[ Blunt were her words, but it hangs like a child dangling a thought idly. ]
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The anger’s blinding without them. [ blinding to hurt anyone that gave him the smallest of reasons, it didn’t matter if they were friend or foe, or just a sorry passerby— bonds keep him together. the anger is manageable.
though, at her question, he doesn’t respond. at least not with words. eren pulls his hair back, loose strands invited into a bun and breathing in. his exhale is deeper as he pries for the heat hidden away in his chest. cracks of orange gleam from under the scales up his neck, like lava breaking through stone. just as fast as the color comes, it also goes; the man dips his head back and spits a burst of fire upwards. not large enough to burn the ceiling, but just enough to dry the air they breathed momentarily, all until it rolled out of existence. a blink of an eye. ]
My second bond taught me how, without the accidents. [ no burning the plants or your other bond’s most favorite flowers. or clothing, or skin that was not as resistant as theirs, and with that comes a slight, slight smile playing his lips. ] A musician.
[ and he’s certainly implying that he’ll pass on the knowledge, with the way he shifts over. ]
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She's had to deal with her own set of feelings and emotions too. Damn bonds. They're a curse as much as a blessing.
Daenerys shifts in her bath, pulling from the edge of the tub to sit up. He didn't answer her, even with the hiss of water – he could at least answer. Their eyes meet by the time he pulls his hair back, words kept to herself as she tries to keep herself from looking as a gullible fool. The sight was too familiar to her – as fire reaches to the heavens and falls short. The light flashes in her eyes, a familiar sensation that she finds almost attractive in a totally non-sexual way. It was a view she misses – seeing her children burn her enemies down and bring them one step closer to home.
It makes her miss home even more. ]
...I see. [ There's an awkward silence there as she leans back, submerging her top half into the water. ] I felt a pressure in my chest when we began our voyage, thought nothing of it. It caused me no pain.
[ Bitterly: ]
However, they kept me in a room with a select few Coven members, inquiring so vividly what my intentions were. Asking if I sympathized more with Aefenglom than this city. It made me so... angry. Restless. Their questions brought nothing but anger until flames spilled past my mouth like venom from a snake's maw.
[ It was an unfortunate realization. It exposed her for something other than a witch. ]
They know the truth of what I am now, they fear it more than condemn it, I believe. [ Her head tilts towards him, eyes half shut. ] A witch musician?
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the story of her events isn’t an alien sort of telling. pressure in her chest, anger, then spitting the flames like an exhaling yell you’d give anyone against you. he has his own hang against his kindling chest. ]
Yes— breathing exercises. The Wilder groups taught us some things, too, the month before you arrived. [ so simple yet so effective for them. ] Another thing to show you.
[ there was something a little more urgent, though. ]
But you’re right about fear. [ well— where does he start? ] Both in the dream and in reality, the population sees this all as necessary. For their safety and the monsters.
[ he isn’t saying this with any sort of tone of agreement, rest assured. only laying dorchacht’s facts against a surface to span out and understand. ]
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One day, she'll overcome this too. It was her fate, she knows. ]
I was brought here the wrong month then. [ Sarcastically... ] I'll be in your debt forever at this rate.
[ Or until she can find a way to return to Westeros... The water sloshes as she tilts her head back, braids unfurled and silver-gold strands floating like foam across the surface of the water. ]
Why? None of this is necessary. [ She wants to learn more.] Chains and collars are an invention of man – by cruel, evil men. It is not a natural order for... for this.
[ Her expression hardens. ]
What have you found out?
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You don’t owe me anything, [ ever!! always!! just to be clear!! ]
. . . “There wasn’t a Dorchacht before Morgana”. That’s what they say. Monsters can carry the Cwyld easier than humans do— they’ve been used before, to attack the city. Some people think it’s better they be collared and useful than put down with no life at all. [ he can strongly disagree, with the way his brows pinch. better off dead than living like cattle. ] It’s an old city. Around when King Serwyl da Uathmar sought to rule the continent, and that was . . . Around three hundred years ago.
[ that’s when eren’s eyes, thin and pupils slit like a cat’s, seems to look deep into the information he spouts— like trying to navigate it. visualizing it somewhere in front of him. ]
The library’s history books don’t date back more than the last decade, and the monsters, [ one of eren’s legs shift sideways, the other propping close to his chest while his wings coil around them. ] they don’t remember their lives before entering the city.
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[ Stern, serious. Daenerys may have been a bit withdrawn when they first met but there's a Queen speaking to him firmly. There will be no argument with how she presents it. A favor is given to him, she'll intend he sees it through eventually.
The water splashes at her feet as she impatiently taps to the wall of the tub. Stewing in her own thoughts from Eren's inevitable words. ]
I do not understand. If the Cwyld is especially susceptible to the monsters, why bring them into slavery and even poverty? They should be protected, given reasons not to leave the city. Should be treated as the focal point for treatment... [ Of course, this is all because she's thinking of the grand picture of slavery = bad. ] ...It has to be magic. With Morgana's journey here, her usurping of the Coven...
[ She sits up, just like, tits out and hands clutching the side of the tub more angrily. Fucking magic, man. ]
They know only a city that treats them like livestock. No fond memories, no fearful ones before – only what is. No one questions this? Aefenglom has allowed this?
[ It angers her to the point of her teeth gritting and she still feels the heat in her chest – oohhh, she's gonna have to control that. ]
I do not want or wish for war, ser, but I wish for what is right. If not tonight, soon.
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everything he's done, her life and her safety was weaved in between. because he could not sacrifice her. because she couldn't sacrifice him. dany knew what she wanted and, while he doesn't break a solemn smile, eren does look at her with remembrance. with respect, if not some melancholy. ]
As long as it's a want for you, and not an obligation.
[ no arguments, if that was the case, and no rejection of anything in return if it would come to be. but the rest is a conundrum that twists his gut sideways and back. makes the frills and spines behind his pointed ears flatten and his aura darken in contrast to blue eyes as bright as water. ]
Aefenglom hardly knew until now. This might even be newer than we realize, if their memories are being altered. [ which was odd and more odd, all on its own, he knows. he could also imagine the same as to why and what was behind it— magic. illusions. and reaching out to the only ones susceptible to seeing something. ] We'd need to buy more time— we’re not strong enough to strike them.
[ although, the way he pinches the bridge of his nose with his clawed, inky black fingertips— it's a drag. at the same time, he knows there is no more time, if they didn't want the chance to grow and spread into aefenglom, it’d automatically become their problem, if they're enslaved and never given the possibility to return to their homes.
so, if the future is the way he’s seen it, something will be done and something successful. ]
The price of freedom isn’t clean. I don’t know how many people know that enough to stick to it. [ eren’s— living that price already, but how many people are willing to do the same, he wonders? he looks to dany, as if searching for a confirmation. ] I know I will. I always have, since I was born.
[ and even after his death, and his ascension to the paths and memories of his ancestors. but he also knows that, even though he can most certainly do things on his own— he’ll need others, and others will need him. professionally or otherwise. he needs to know who those people are.
who he can count on and respect, who he must use, and who he must trample over. ]
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You'll forgive me to find that hard to believe. [ They're complacent, she feels. It's difficult to put trust into either city. Both have their disappointments, both have their own horrors to face. Daenerys chews his words carefully. ] They fear beasts. Fear their strength and what they could pose against them. I wish not to send them to slaughter, but the resistance... they've been thinking of this for far longer than we have.
[ Perhaps, she can also get involved there. She's avoided finding them – avoided trying to involve herself to that degree once arriving as a dignitary. It was clear that her words before in the tavern... did not inspire much confidence. There was caution to be had, and she did not blame them. A small woman coming in with the fire of a dragon – who the hell would believe the miracles Dany brought to Essos? It was all words to this point. ]
People opposed me when I suggested we would end up opposing this city. Feared I would burn it to the ground by the mere talk of what comes next.
[ Her gaze narrows and she stands plainly in the water – motioning for the towel nearby. The inflammation of scales were most noticeable on her neck and collarbone, but the spiral of silver down her hip towards her thighs seemed... settled. Neatly grown. ]
Will you work with me to ensure, whatever may need to happen, will happen? My only request is minimal civilian casualties.
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there’s no way to find out until they have facts. all they have are hunches to lead them.
eren grunts at her telling like reliving his own. they would oppose her. it was the reason why eren didn’t say a thing, to anyone, when he decided to oppose a city for an upper hand. he forced comrades into battle. he was imprudent, he took all fame and glory for being o’ horrible, but it was the only way he had with a mostly favorable outcome and a chance to keep fighting. he got it done. there’s no batting a lash, or look of concern when he considers what she asks of him. if she truly wants this, she isn’t wrong in her choice— the part-dragon before her only hopes that her wish is possible.
eren stands when she does with a gesture offered to him, and uniformly, hooks the towel, closest to him, into his talons, gentle enough to leave them untorn. if he had the aids he used during his first months, oils and herbs enchanted with coolness to ease the burn away, he’d give it to her. for now— she can handle it. she can handle many things, he feels. ]
If it’s in my hands, it’s done. [ there’s cogency in a voice so deep that is seems to growl, when he nods to her and accepts. this is mutual, and he knows he doesn’t have to repeat the words back to her. kill one, two or five to save thousands. kill hundreds to save millions. it’s a burden he was built strong enough to take. he is a man with eyes that many fear— not because they are slit, like a beast’s, but because they are unrelenting. he forces his heart cold for some, at these moments, but it burns strong for those who matter more. ] . . . And if the number is avoidable, I will.
[ if. he still won’t allow that to become an obstacle. ]
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Jorah, Daario – he joins their ranks, although for purely noble reasons.
Eren had proven himself useful enough for her to allow her walls to come down, to trust someone not of her 'world'. It's a benefit... of someone not distrustful of the Targaryen nature bred and ingrained in her, one that sees her as she is. Perhaps better than anyone else since she arrived.
If he was so kind to pass the towel off, she'll wrap herself up quickly and step out of the tub – if not, she'll go to him directly. Closer.
His words were a vow she takes to heart. A silent nod, words spared for a gesture that doesn't need any confirmation. If he believed in her views enough to agree as much as he did, he believed in her
That was a boost back to her confidence, at least.
She rings her hair out over the tub, silver-gold sprawling and bundling between her fingers and catching on her slightly sharpened nails. Tugging any loose strands to the pool of water below. He'll see the damage on her neck easily – and she lets her guard down enough for him to view her without her own discomfort. ]
It's going to be difficult to convince the others to act. They are blindly loyal to Aefenglom or they do not believe we should act.
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the towel is handed to her, within her range and with the stretch of his wingspan. the contrast of his scales are much darker than her silver, like the moon, flesh hurt by their growth (which he considers, truly, to find and bring her the salves and oils, if he could find them here. for now, the color to his saturates. the freckles of dull red gleam scarlet, and what looked yellow are now strikes of titian. opaque black is inky, at times indigo. it’s physiological, a mood indicator with an umbrella of possibilities that were rather large to list: happiness, excitement, fortitude, anger, arousal, dominance— only to name a few.
though he would not say which it was, nor does he give himself the leisure to reflect. she trusts him to an extent that couldn’t go ignored, and eren does similarly. he does not speak to many about these issues. it isn’t worth the time wasted. at least . . . it doesn’t feel wasted, here. ]
It’s either difficult or impossible. [ he pauses. ] I don’t think we have the time to change their minds. It’s like arguing with walls.
[ there’s . . . something, he remembers. ]
I visited the Parliament, before we left. I heard some say that Aefenglom has no chance of a war against Dorchacht. Some considered giving us up to them to keep the peace. [ a huff at this ] I’ve seen their military. It’s nearly disbanded.
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Such is life. You do not argue, you take. [ Says the privileged khaleesi who defied fate. It's hard, she knows — it comes off as stubborn and childish. Many in Qarth had viewed her as such and it boiled her blood. ] We need do not need an army to take a city. We need people who know where to strike. You do not talk to a wall nor do you overcome it easily — you find its weak point and chip away. Strike your hardest.
[ Her strike team had freed an entire city, after all with select warriors under the guise of night.
The talks feel weary, however — circled infinity. Dany's unmoving thoughts, Eren's realism. They were not a good partnership right now. However, when he speaks, she listens. She chews the words and truly listens. ]
You're joking. [ To both! Things! ] Please tell me you are joking.
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[ eren does not joke!!! and when he jokes, it’s a rare occurrence, pigs literally fly. a rather sad truth, but one he was expecting ever since he got here. the military was the first thing he looked for and asked of, literally, five months ago. it’s always been little, because of aefenglom’s focus on the blight. ]
. . . But we’re on the same page. [ fear not, he’d rather hear what sounds like a stubborn child than a crying one who is unwilling. he’s been called childlike as well, for taking action such as these. stubborn, imprudent. people tend to call you such when you’re the black sheep among a white herd, hammered down like the only nail sticking out from wood. the only fish trying to swim up the tide. the only way he sees is exactly that, strike, take, and control. the question is where and how many people are actually willing.
if there are few, it’ll just take longer. but if there’s a way to coax things out in that favor . . . ]
I’ll look for weak points, during the next few days. How strong the Resistance is and how our numbers are. [ he means our in the likeminded sense, and will soon be searching about for that as well. ] It might not happen as soon as we’d like, [ there’s studying to do. there’s preparation. he had to stay in marley for months until he felt it was time. then, called upon the shock team.
they did not take a city, but they did do what he sought out to do— take power for himself, and leave the city in shambles that would take ages to recover from. ] but it will happen.
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[ He may not be joking but man, does she grow heated!!! ]
There does not need to be a war. I grow tired of people being unable to separate acting and declaring war.
[ Dany moves to the small mirror, looking at her own reflection in an idle daze. ]
Thank you. Ser Jorah usually assists with espionage, but he has been gathering more intel on the conditions of the monsters and their masters. [ On if there was a way to sway them, perhaps? Her hands place on her reflection, wiping away steam to better see herself. How silver wraps around towards her throat like a hand choking her – squeezing away at every bit of what made her... her. ] ... I do not wish to rule over these people. I am not their Queen, but my heart bleeds for them and they could prove to be valuable. Inspired to assist against matters that do matter. All we can do is assist them.
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[ a life as a willing cow grazing quietly in the pastures, content with that— a slave who satisfies themselves with the thought of slavery and nothing more— he couldn’t hate that more than he did. complacency twisted his gut and soured his tongue. it was easier than change, it was weakness, and he hated that when people could do and be so much more.
because, like him, like her, like one born in chains and ripped of their memories, there’s no difference in why they’re all special. they were born.
being forced to, on the other hand, when something could be done was impossible to ignore. he doesn’t have a plan— it’s too early for that. but, like dany, he has an idea. the one thing that can never die. he’ll see what the majority says soon, if they were to be prompted suddenly, as well as oddly. the easiest of ways to see what one thinks is giving them the space to do it. the rest will come with his escapades.
escapades that he should be returning to soon, shifting himself closer to the window he came from. ]
My friend would get along with you. [ he says “friend”, and his eyes soften, warm up like little orbs of heat that’re cooled by the nips of sadness. ] She’s the same way.
[ —but, enough of that ]
If there’s anything else you should know about, you’ll hear it.
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He speaks of friends and there's a weak-willed smile on her features shortly after. ]
Then you should be use to dealing with a woman as ambitious as I. I will not show restraint, not with you, then. [ Was she teasing? The amusement in her voice may indicate as such. ] I do have one question. Not pertaining to what lies outside of these walls.
[ Facing him fully, her hand clutches to the top of her towel, eyes more studying him plainly. ]
...Does it hurt further? The changes. [ Because right now, yes they suck. ] I believe we are the same.
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which is to say! he doesn’t quite smile— it felt so misplaced for a man so centered that he teeters off guard, just enough for his pointed teeth to poke out from underneath his lips. brief and temperate. you can say he approves of her candor.
the question is what gets his head to dip— more than he already does, from being so much larger than her. when he stops to look at it all himself, he’s . . . changed. changed a lot. he’s only a small scrap of what human features he had left, lifting his arm for the membranes to drape outward, holding his hand out, palm up— and spreading his inked digits out. his legs, his many scales, the horns that weigh on his head. ]
My head hurt when my horns grew, [ he doesn’t say it with such prominence, though. it was a dull ache, and scratching, at least for him. ] and my limbs ached.
[ when, you know— the rest came in. ]
It only burned worse when the moons came. [ . . . but, there’s a tip he has to offer, wetting his lips. ] It’s still there— but it’s turned into a part of me now that makes it feel like . . . Background noise. [ like the vibration of a voice you aren’t listening to. like a hush that keeps hush rather than screaming. a presence that’s still there, and always there— but far more tolerable. ] It hurts next to nothing after you accept it.
[ it’s like the pain didn’t matter anymore. for him, it hardly ever did, but fighting less was what made him sound.
then again, eren has a monstrous threshold for pain. ]
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It was a heavy question, she knows. The discomfort she has in being a monster, in any form of magic that could impact her weighs to her like scales made of iron itself. Many accept what they are – part of Daenerys does too, the haunting memory of Viserys claiming he was the dragon waiting to be awoken. It's a poor fate that in truth, it was her this entire time.
His admittance was something she knew was coming. Why did she even ask such a foolish questions? The scales on her flesh grew into her more fleshy areas with little restrictions – her thighs and hips peppered with beautiful white scales with a dull blue shimmer. But the rest of her? The ones on her neck, her shoulders – those were painful. A pre-cursor to the changes to come.
She thinks them over, horns and limbs – how they'll change over time... ]
I accepted I was no girl, but a dragon I needed to be long ago. [ It was not a lie she told herself. ] ... Dragons are a part of the Targaryen family, ser. My family rode them valiantly, raised them, died by them – wanted to be dragons in human flesh. I bore three children from eggs in fire and raised them until they soared through the skies like ships in the water. They are the only children I will ever have – and now, this form is still the closest I or any Targaryen has ever been to being a dragon.
[ There's almost a crack in her voice. Almost. ]
It frightens me.
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it’s that very intrusiveness that has allowed him to break walls and see beyond. he’d never want to lose that.
so he considers: dragon riders. massive beasts that could bring an unready city down in moments. a queen to the throne from a line of many like her. or, unlike her. there was something about lineage that not everyone sought to follow, and if freida has shown him anything in her memories . . . no, the little cycle that all humans are subject to follow if they can be influenced— ]
Because of what they were?
[ eren can guess the concern accurately, and he doesn’t mind speaking with her of it, if she has been willing to tell him that much already. ]
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No. Because where the dragon begins, the girl ends. [ Where the girl begins, the dragon ends, she implies with how she looks to him. ] Dragons are feared, not loved. Dragons are tamed for gain, if only rarely. Dragons are alone, by nature and history.
[ She lifts her hands up, looking at her nailbeds that have begun to turn a faint silver and black, how her tips now slowly begin to point. ]
I fear that this fate was not the one I sacrificed so much for.
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