middaeg | [closed]

[ Daenerys had only had misfortune in her transformations in the dream. They were subtle there, only a glimmer of silver at her neck that only felt as if the scales laid on top of her skin. Now? They feel deep, secure and rooted into her flesh. It was merely an itch, she thinks, but it hadn't subsided. Flesh began to rip and tear at the scales and soon, she finds herself with bloody fingers and sores peppered against that silver.

Dany tries not to bring attention to herself. Her fingers hide against her darkened garb, hair obscuring the red at the back of her neck. It was finally when Sheva announces herself does she stop, eyes wide and jaw agape. ]

I – I am fine. I am no such thing.

[ Even under the realization it is Lady Sheva, she stays guarded. Protected. ]

[Sheva brings her hands up slightly to motion that she means no harm, a display of caution and perhaps even submission to the outside eye. If Dany is meant to be a witch by all appearances, playing the part of a monster who's used to poor treatment from her sorts is the least she can do, particularly since they're currently exposed.]

M'lady... [She counters low and rough as her eyes search the other woman's, trying to reassure her that while her body language and tone say one thing, she's actually trying to help her.

After a moment, her voice softens.] I can smell the blood.

[ The throbs of scales ripping from flesh had been tolerable until now, until she felt anger wash over her. It was hard to control, she thinks of if this was how Drogon felt when anything confronted his nature. Sheva's words come careful and she glances around nervously, with quick flicks left and right to ensure she was not followed. ]

I merely must wash up, clean the grime away from a long day out — [ Lies. It was worse than that. They itch, she wants to claw at them but her mind focuses on controlling impulse. ] I...

[The anger has her worried, not for herself, but for the smaller woman. It's clear that she's out of her element far more than Sheva feels, and while she can hazard a few guesses as to why, she knows better than to assume too much. Pointedly, Sheva takes a long, deep breath before exhaling slowly, hoping that maybe Dany will mirror her in that.

There's an understanding to her expression at the mention of cleaning up, and she motions for her to follow while keeping a covert eye out for tails. So far, she hasn't seen any.] C'mon, I know a quiet place, clean and private enough.

[ It was not suppose to be like this. The peppered shimmer down her hips and thighs were grown in nicely already, but the ones at her neck...? How they snaked around and wrapped against the back of her neck like a vice... Dany could not ignore. The itch became too much and here she was, risking her own appearances out in the city.

Her hand lifts, fingers curled and antsy as if she's resisting the urge to scratch.

However, she is not stubborn enough to ignore the direction in the woman's voice. Her eyes tremble, nervous and less commanding than she had been upon their prior meetings. ]

Take me there, then.

[ It was not rude and demanding, a soft plead masked with a whisper – something Daenerys is not proud of. ]

[Nothing's supposed to be like this, but they're survivors and they must adapt. Still, even survivors do better with support from friends.

Sheva's eyes gravitate to the other woman's hand when it lifts, apprehensive on what she might try in public in her agitated state. There's internal relief when it stops, and she offers her own arm elbow first as the means to an escort her to the baths and well out of the sight of prying eyes.

Once they're much closer, Sheva leans close and speaks in a low, rough voice.]

What happened? Did someone hurt you?

[She sounds ready to raise hell if that's the case. As a bonus, it aligns with her mission.]

[ It takes a vulnerability in her to accept Sheva's offer, her arm hooking to hers tightly. ]

No. They would be dead already if they had. [ She had a few people who were watching her back, a few people she was tethered to that would feel it and find her. There's shame in her voice: ] My own body is ripping itself open from the inside out. It was my own doing.

[It's subtle, but Sheva steps closer and squeezes her arm just enough to mimic a hand squeeze, meaning for the gesture to be comforting. She knows it's not going to change anything, but she's trying.]

There'd be a line for it. [She growls under her breath, glancing over at her warily for show. Though, there's no doubt in her eyes that she means business about that far less subtle threat.

That more intimate admittance earns a cautious flick of her gaze at the origin of the scent of blood as they step into a darker alley.] I'll take care of you. [A beat.] How bad?

[ She appreciates Sheva's efforts, do not misunderstand. There were few people she trusts, few people she gets a good read upon – at least with the woman she did not believe she would simply turn her over to guards for a price. ]

I do not know. There are scales growing from my skin, they have become itchy and unbearable. I can not help but scratch and peel at them. Consider me a fool, but – [ She sighs, eyes downcasting. ] It happens so quickly.

[At that admittance, something she understands to have been great effort for such a proud and guarded woman, Sheva remains silent for several long moments afterwards. It helps that they're navigating a particularly resistance favorable set of alleys that lead up to a cleaner and more concealed entrance to the baths.

It's not until that they're past the areas with likely witnesses in buildings or nooks above them that she speaks again, low and fighting her own emotions.]

When the dream happened, the changes were... I just was. [And it still twists her insides in weird ways. She's very thankful that those changes aren't here yet for her, else she might not be able to help the resistance or her friend.] The process might be agony, and I expect it will get worse as things progress, but you're still a strong, badass woman.

[It's a fact, and it's spoken like one, firm and without room for argument.]

And you're not alone.

[ The words were foreign — badass? A piqued curiosity but she does not dwell. They were moving too quickly to find shelter somewhere, to get her away from bleeding on the streets and drawing attention away. ]

Thank you. [ That's all she can truly say. To stumble over her words and instead offer a true expression of thanks. ] I can not change it. That is what makes this much worse. Much more unbearable. My choice is taken from me and it's ripping me apart from the inside.

[Feel free to ask for a definition later khalessi. That would be an interesting conversation.]

I don't think any of us had a choice when we were brought to this world. Why would the rest be much different?

[She navigates them both the last of the journey, free hand sliding to her weapon tucked in the layers she's wearing. Not that she expects trouble as she ducks into a cleverly hidden entrance to what appears to be a dead end, but Sheva's not one to chance it.]

[ TEACH HER THE WAYS OF MODERN CONVERSATION. One day we'll learn emojis. ]

I suppose you're right. [ That's just the sad reality of it. As they find themselves closer to their destination, her words become scarce. She's quiet, pensive. Guarded because of a vulnerability she is not use to. ] What awaits us here? I've been wrapped up in Coven affairs, I... have not been involved in the resistance or the slums as much as I would have liked.

[Even Sheva doesn't dabble in emojis, but she can teach her some slang. English isn't her first language either.

After a quick check just inside, she motions for Dany to step inside, following immediately after and securing the door behind them.]

Hot baths. I've been told they have magical properties. There are some more private areas... I can fill you in on what I've learned while I take care of your wounds?

[ She follows quickly, not wanting to risk being caught in such a state or by anyone unsavory. Daenerys' eyes look at the lay of the land, soaking in the scene in front of her. It was hard to come to term that she's scurried through shadows, fearful of being caught — but she had been through worse. ]

Thank you, my lady. [ Is the only agreement she gives, the one for consent in cleaning up the scales that rip through her. ] I will return this act of kindness, I swear it.

Nonsense. This is what friends do. [Had Sheva believed that unwrapping her own scarf to cover Dany's distinctive hair en route to be a subtle action, she would have done so. She just believes that they were careful enough to avoid negative scrutiny. Still, she doesn't dally either.

While the dark length of the shabby hall seems not only to be in disrepair, but to lead to nowhere, several steps forward at an angle reveals a door disguised behind a dilapidated wall and some bags of refuse. An optical illusion hiding the true doorway.

After stepping through and navigating a few minutes through some tunnels and stairways, things become cleaner and more inviting, proper lighting included. This particular series of baths is relatively unoccupied and there's one that's empty and neatly tucked away. Sheva leads them in that direction.]

Let's get you cleaned up.

[ 'Friends' is a funny word. She once believed her heart had no room for such things, that she can not risk blood on her hands and guilt ripping through her heart for such a feeling. For friendship brought risk and betrayal in tandem to the poor dragon queen. It had been some time since anyone was bold enough to assume, mainly once she built her wall up brick by brick and separated herself in needing advisers, not friends.

She was fortunate to find Sheva when she did, to find someone who can help her when she needs it. Call it selfish, but her vow was solemn and true. Allies, friends – where did one end and the other begin?

They move together quickly and carefully, her eyes adjusting to the dimness of the tunnels – until it opens up and the scene was far more cozy than she could imagine. There's no words, not at first – her hands go to her jacket that latches over her bodice. Her hand pulls her hair up over her shoulder and it's clear as day – silver shimmer splattered with inflammation and dripping in blood. Scales embed down the nape of her neck, twisting over her shoulder down underneath her top attire. ]

How bad is it?

[They might not be best friends, but Sheva is willing to risk capture and whatever horrible things they do to mirrorbound monsters behaving suspiciously to get the other woman to relative safety. They're more than strangers and definitely allies. Sheva hopes the fledgling friendship isn't so aggressively one-sided, but while she acts out of her own honor, she also knows that she cannot assume that Dany would do the same for her. That's a dangerous assumption that gets people hurt, used, and/or killed.

With the dragon settling, she snags a stack of washcloth sized towels as well as a larger one, and though she tries not to stare or just start helping her undress, there's a moment where she can't help but reach out and guide some hair tangled in the blood gently away. The fact that blood has dried in the fibers of her clothes and perhaps is adding to Dany's discomfort causes her to frown.]

The movement of the cloth is pulling the wounds open and causing them to bleed more. [Meaning it's only going to get worse if left like this, and the almost motherly scold she levels hopefully conveys the seriousness of just that.] I'm going to clean it, then bandage it the best I can.

[Her gaze softens as she submerges a cloth in the hot, magical water, and it flicks to the silver hair.]

It's a good thing I found you. The blood stained bright with hair like yours. I'm afraid that's going to need a wash too.

[RIP these beautiful braids. Luckily, Sheva can help recreate the look afterwards.]

[ One day Daenerys can imagine the simple things like friendship in a future they build together. Rarely had she that luxury, just as she had no time to lounge in a pool and waste her days and evenings soaking. This was not a privilege, but a necessity to survive – so she sadly views it less of the warm and fuzzy and more akin to allegiance.

Her scales were rooted in, embedded into pale flesh that feels like glass. Some subside over time, others still sting and bleed when her nails catch them. It's more than uncomfortable, but fortunately Sheva is offering her the chance to clean up when she needs it most.

She flinches only a bit at her touch, how her hair is matted and dyed a shade of red she remembers fondly – not of her own blood, but the blood she's seen around her many of times.

There's silence, a harsh gulp of her own as she anxiously lifts her fingers to the lace in front of her chest. Fingers slow, delicate as they undo the string keeping her bodice bound tight. ]

I would have left a trail, would have garnered far too much attention. It has been unbearable since I stepped foot on the boat here – the nights turn into day after what feels like centuries of this damned itch.

[ Her words were full of frustration and finally, when her top loosens and barely covers her breasts, does Sheva have access fully to her shoulders. The thought of her hair stained makes her grimace and finally – she stiffens her shoulders and drops her top to the ground. She has undone her braids many of times in the past, so she begins without a word. Even with the magical water, it will be a different and more vulnerable scene playing out. ]

I wish they would stop. The witches have so much magic between them, none of them could figure out to stop these... changes? [ A childish huff follows, and she looks back to readjust her mindset: ] What had you been doing when you found me?

[As much as she's curious about Dany's transformation, Sheva holds her tongue on that matter for the time being, choosing to focus on the issues that she's able to assist. Still, the darker woman can't help but quietly examine the scales without touching them yet, estimating their strength as well as which ones are likely the most painful for the dragon.]

If I could smell it, then others could as well. [She agrees softly as she squeezes out the cloth, a subtle nod to her own changes, which while easier to endure and hide, seem to have appeared quickly upon her own arrival as well.

Her attention politely stays on the wound when she notices Dany moving to undress. In fact, Sheva doesn't wait until the full swath of scales are exposed to start tending to the wounds, dabbing them gently at first as she listens and watches for a reaction to adjust her pressure accordingly. Every so often, she rinses the cloth in the baths, continuing her task.]

I would imagine it's because the witches here feel superiority due to their race, and they like a nice visual delineation point to aid their bigotry. As for those who were neither witch or human... I imagine they might see a witch forcing those changes to stop as a personal insult, as another way to strip them of their identity and any remaining positive association with their race and culture tied to it.

[She pauses, watching as the braids are deftly worked loose. At first, it seems like she might say more on the matter, but she instead falls quiet for several longer moments, lost in a few personal parallels. Eventually, she recalls the other question Dany asked her, and she chides herself apologetically.]

I was on my rounds, heading to the docks.

[ Sheva's assistance was greatly appreciated — greatly needed in a time like this. A care that she had known only to her most trusted and her handmaidens. It was intimate in a sense, far more vulnerable than she'd like. Daenerys is awkward as she finally grows comfortable enough to find a comfortable position nearby the bath — not dare undressing fully to tread into it yet. ]

I... [ Sheva makes sense, the words a bitter sting. ] I know not of what is proper of this world and what is not — but there is a poverty stricken here to those "less fortunate". It's disgusting they foster it.

[ She winces every so often when she applies pressure, a hiss past her lips. ]

And what awaits us at the docks besides our passage back? Tell me we have some good news there.

[So long as Dany is as comfortable as possible, given that she's the one injured and bleeding, Sheva is content. There's no push for the other woman to reveal more than necessary, and the hisses of pain plus the work at hand have her attentions occupied enough to provide relative privacy.]

There are many ways for those in power to stay in power, and that's one of them.

[While the BSAA agent might not know the details of Dany's past and titles, she's noticed how Jorah treats her and defaults to her decisions. It's different than how the knight is with Sheva. Combine that with how the Dany carries herself and it's not too much of a stretch to suspect that the woman currently afflicted with reptilian scales is more than just a Lady of some land. It's why Sheva speaks her mind, but chooses her words about the rich and powerful a little more carefully.]

Full of capitalists and opportunists. [Meaning money tends to rule their political and moral stances. Still, there's hope.] There are a few sympathizers, and I'm making sure that they come to like chatting with me.

I'm glad, then. There are far too many people who have no voice – the ones with it should be using them when possible.

[ She does not know how the Coven would handle any kind of resistance – would it be brutal like a public beheading? A life in a cell? There had been limited experiences for her, the 'tourist', to see. How the Coven preaches the best parts of the city why pushing the worst under the rug. She tenses up a bit, hissing at a certain spot when Sheva washes – but her words push through. ]

Making alliances here in the shadows can prove useful if things go south. Aefenglom may not have the military to fight, but it has a sustainable city that others can find comfort in if this one falls. It's tempting.

It's difficult to take a vocal stand when the price is high and often exacted. [She pauses, pressing the freshly wet and hot towel to as much of the scales as possible, hoping that whatever magic exists in the water can provide further comfort somehow.] People will suffer a great deal if it means that their family and themselves are alive and surviving.

[As to how the Coven will handle a resistance should the momentum breach the need for secrecy, Sheva also worries. Historically, masters don't particularly like when their property is liberated and given power of their own. At the hiss, she eases pressure and pauses for a moment to hopefully give her a momentary relief.]

They're hiding the auctions now. I don't expect the crafted peace to linger so long as there are citizens willing to fight against the current system. [While she's optimistic, the BSAA agent has been preparing for the worst outcomes after her experiences in the dream and with the people here.] I don't trust the witches in Aefenglom either. As ambassadors, what can you negotiate on their behalf?

[ There's a topic that weighs heavily on her heart, one she wishes she did not have to feel indebted to being involved with. The plight of the common man – for an extraordinary khaleesi, was still something familiar to her. ]

I see. There's reasons for their shame, then. They know change is coming.

[ Her eyes lower as her shoulders begin to relax further. ]

I do not know. I believe we were brought here to see with our own eyes their illusion of peace and equality, but we know better. We can not deny what the dream held and what they are hiding now. I've tried to find audience with their leader, but failed.

[ SIGH. ]

Aefenglom has shown that there is a hesitance to change anything about their current relationship with the city. ...They are weak.

[closed]

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