❪ test drive #4 ❫

[natha]

YOUR STORY BEGINS     The Storm came. You only remember darkness, but you don't remember much after that. All you know, perhaps, is that it was cold. You don't know for how long you slept, but the dreams were short, at least. You remember the expanse of stars and the universe that came in view. Every world and solar system ever known was displayed in your dreams in careful, pristine detail. You have also witnessed The Storm, which has devoured a fair portion of these galaxies. It was a dark, thick smog — ominous in appearance and ever foreboding. Your Earth and similar planets were immersed in The Storm. Somehow, you knew it would be the last you'd see of it. That was when she told you what happened, and how you could help. You knew that you'd be living somewhere new, even though you never asked for it. The details here weren't clear, but you knew you'd made a deal with Darma. Not long after, you'll wake at Thesa Station — your body is still cold. It all felt like a dream, but somehow, you knew it wasn't — now, will you keep that promise you made to Darma? PROMPT: THE STORM     CW: death You were awake on Thesa Station. But at some point you, like many other new arrivals before you, wandered into the Observation Deck. Ordinarily, this is where images of The Storm are replayed to remind Refugees of the fate they have escaped. The Natha Orbiters' technology has evolved. They are aware of your gaps in memory. You may have doubts of The Storm even existing, or of your world's destruction. Though they do not wish reliving those last moments on anyone, they have created an experience that will do just that. Before entering the Observation Deck, you are warned that what follows will not be for the weak of heart. As soon as you step in, you will find that the walls around you begin to transform and expand. Welcome to the Planet Cespi, in the Circinus Galaxy. Unfortunately, we were not able to save this world from The Storm's Consumption. These are its last memories. You are surrounded by blue, grassy hills as far as the eye can see and a pleasant breeze. The atmosphere is thick with a sickly sweet smell. Before you lays the scene of a quiet village, with its residents going about their everyday lives. You aren't alone, either, with an equally confused stranger (or perhaps you know each other?) surveying the scene. Then the world grows completely silent for a full minute. You and your partner are unable to make a sound, verbal or otherwise. Without warning, a deafening roar fills your ears and forces you to double over in pain. The villagers run out of their homes in a panic, finding themselves in just as much pain and confusion as you do. Where there was no sound before, now there is too much for a normal human body to process. Look up. An expanding mass of energy is swallowing everything you can see. It consumes the earth, the atmosphere, the depths of space — and it is getting closer. Your only hope is to outrun it, if you can. The people in the village certainly try to, racing past you. Their fear is very real. Their bodies are very real. You may be able to run from it for a time, only able to catch glimpses of this dark and sinister force swallowing everything and everyone. The earth rumbles and separates beneath you. Electricity surges through the sky, and then through your very body. You fought hard, but it is impossible to outrun the Storm forever. You too will be consumed. Your death is quick, but not painless. What were you thinking, before you took your last breath? You awaken back in the Observation Deck, next to your new friend. PROMPT: TRAINING MODULES     While it’s all nice and well to familiarize oneself with Thesa Station, it is most advised that new arrivals venture out a bit. Not physically. No one is quite prepared for that yet. However, there will be several virtual reality training programs set for those who dare to be adventurous. For those who aren’t and don’t dare, well — good luck, all the same. Once seated and appropriately strapped in, the system will automatically whir to life. 1. When you enter the Natha's newest program, at first nothing loads. You might think this is an error as you look around in apparent total darkness, only able to see your own virtual body if you look down, but soon enough a voice comes to life as if speakers have turned on somewhere. Long ago, the lands of El Nysa were dominated by the ancestors of the dragons who now live among the people, tamed. It was pretty dangerous! How about a little history lesson? And then the simulation comes to life— a. The lush lands that blossom to life around you all at once are real enough to make you forget you're in a simulation — at least for a moment. Those refugees who have been to the planet in reality before will find themselves in territory as unfamiliar as those who are brand new, as this simulation takes place far back in history. Instead of sprawling cities and civilizations, the most you'll find is scattered villages, many of them no more than nomadic campsites at best. You've been outfitted to blend in with the natives and these simulated people won't react to you as a newcomer, but as a member of their village. Are you a doctor, or perhaps a warrior? Maybe you're even in charge! But they want your help, and they want it quickly: a dragon is coming. The dragon is larger than the mount-sized breeds that exist on El Nysa today — much larger. It's a good six stories in height, bestial, and angry. Maybe it's then that you notice the lands that surround you are littered with scars of scorched earth, some of them several yards across, and there's a reason these people don't live in one place for very long. But don't linger too long on the makeshift grave markers sticking out of the burnt countryside — the dragon is coming. b. If you're looking for something a little less violent, perhaps another area of the historic simulation will be up your alley. This one finds you on a cliffside, waiting among other villagers for an event the people are talking about in hushed whispers, some of which you can identify as prayer. When the white dragon raises its head up from the depths of the ravine, towering impossibly high over you and the others on the cliffside, it's no wonder most of the natives fall to their knees in awe and wonder. This dragon doesn't attack, only looks at the people on land with an ancient and strange wisdom. Then it speaks. Not in words, but the low rumbling sound that starts in its throat and becomes a full trumpeting bellow to the sky seems to have meaning, and somehow, you can understand its cry as it entreats the people to praise and worship. The natives around you are already starting to give offerings with their prayers, food and carvings and — blood? Is that someone's arm being offered up? That's different. 2. Let us now travel forward in time, shall we? a. The Olympian settlement around you is quiet — until the screaming starts. Guerilla fighters from Wyver flood the streets, knocking civilians aside and breaking down doors and windows when they find their way barred. They move methodically, advancing toward the nicer parts of town where the politicians reside and leaving terror in their wake. They're here for the politicians, people say. They're here to punish the people who made the decision to advance into Wyver in the first place. Blood for blood, as the saying goes. Where they'll be taking them once they have them is anyone's guess. A soldier emerges from a building, dragging someone in elegant clothing out by the hair. Looks like they've found one. Will you rescue them? Make a run for it yourself, lest you be mistaken for one of their targets? Or maybe they've already caught you and some other unfortunate Refugee who's been dropped into this simulation, and the two of you need to figure out a way to escape. b. CW: branding You find yourself in the midst of a bustling crowd gathered at the Temple of Thesa. Robed acolytes stoke fires on either side of the altar at the front of the temple, where miserable-looking people who seem to be from a village in Wyver await, bound in ropes. The priest, at the front of the crowd, picks up a metal brand from the altar and gestures for another acolyte to bring a prisoner forward. The crowd watches with interest as the prisoner is forced to kneel in front of the altar, their arm laid out flat on the marble surface. Another cry — "For the glory of Olympia!" — and the crest of the city is burned into the prisoner's arm. The crowd cheers, deafening the cries of pain. The priest ushers forward another prisoner, and then another. Is that a familiar face you see in the lineup, thrust into this bit of history by the simulation's whims? You have to do something. Or are you unlucky enough to find yourself bound? ...Well, hopefully someone else in the crowd has more scruples than this priest. 3. And now, the present. After all those enlightening scenes, the simulation finally brings you to a more quiet area of Olympia. You are deposited out somewhere in The Outlook, a place the very first group of refugees had to trudge through before they found their homes. You've arrived in the early evening — but sunlight is waning, and soon you'll be under a sky full of stars. Luckily, their old campsites aren't too overgrown. The intention here is to get you familiar with some of the local flora and fauna. What sorts of plants will you encounter? Do you find yourself under a Verillum Tree, suddenly compelled to be painfully honest and truthful in conversation with a complete stranger? Find yourself behaving erratically in the presence of Whistleweed? Or perhaps you'll have to break the spell of being trapped in a Vena Amoris' vines... with a kiss. PROMPT: STASIS UNIT     You have found the massive section of Thesa known as the Stasis Unit. There’s no special access required to enter this part of Thesa Station, but refugees are warned that it may not be for the faint of heart. Here, in large pods that nearly cover every square inch of the space, are all of the people the Orbiters have managed to rescue. Your loved ones, your greatest enemy, your next door neighbor — you might find them here. These people are in a state of deep cryosleep. Due to the damaging effects of The Storm, their bodies are not yet ready to be awoken. PROMPT: OMAGE     Upon receiving your mobile phone, you will be asked to set a username. Voila, you can now access the network! You can choose to send a message to the entire network, specific usernames, or you can try out the Orbiters’ service, Omage, which connects you to a random user. They thought this might be a good way for their new guests to make friends with each other... Connecting to server... Looking for someone you can chat with... You’re now chatting with [username]... Say hi! PROMPT: WILDCARD     You are welcome to write any scenarios in Thesa Station! Characters have been granted temporary access to the Observation Room, and are encouraged to study it carefully. FINAL OOC NOTE     These threads may be carried over as game canon if players choose! Players are encouraged to submit TDM threads as application samples, but they are not required. Please direct any OOC questions to the questions thread below! An AC-length thread may be submitted for 2 NATHA ORBITER REPUTATION POINTS after acceptance here. Please submit by February 18th. We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for REP. There will be an application cap of 60, and no reserves. Please read here for more information. QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

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[song_of_ice]

He's silent a moment, considering her question. While they gave him something else to think about other than the suffocating and swirling emotions, this was not something he could answer easily. He had wondered about the truthfulness of the Natha, about whether or not they kept their loved ones here as a bargaining tool, something to hold over their heads. He found himself going back and forth on that, drawn between anger and cold acceptance. There were a number of things he had seen and experienced to influence his opinion, and sadly the Natha hadn't done very much. If they wanted something more than protection, if they were meaning to use their loved ones as blackmail, they'd done a piss poor job of it.

He held Daenerys tighter against him. At least there was one person they could no longer use against him. She was safe and close to him, he could have her at his side and feel as if he could breathe again. He didn't give a fuck anymore what the Natha might want or might think. He had her back and he could swallow anything else they might want. 'I'd face an army of Others for her and I'll fight any storm they want, so long as I have her with me again.'

"If it isn't, I don't think it's in our ability to go back and with who they have saved, I don't know if I would want to." Which was frustrating to admit. It was selfish, especially for a man that had given up so much to save his people and home. But having his father here, having his brothers and sisters safe, his friends that had died, he'd do a lot to keep that as well. "Not all are lost, so many are here, only asleep."

He watched her as she took it all in. A part of him wondered and worried that he was pushing too much on her. She had barely taken in the news of the Storm and everything that was gone, now he wanted her to see this. But it seemed to amaze her with its brilliance and beauty, just as it had him. Again, he had to wonder if he was selfish, but he wanted to share this with her. He wanted to show her the world.

"We haven't lost everything we believe in. You told me that faith in yourself got you through the worst of you life. You have that still, it hasn't been taken from you." He stepped to her side, letting his hand run over her hair gently. "We have each other."

[dorzalta]

That earns him a sharp look. The sort that's not quite in reprimand, but hovers a breath away from it. He would rather stay in this place than return to their world? What of the Night King? What of their people? What of every single thing they've fought so hard to accomplish thus far?

How is he alright with any of this?

"They're lost so long as they sleep." For a moment, she's half tempted to return to that room and force the other boxes open. Were her people in there, as well? Missandei, Tyrion, and Grey Worm? Where was Drogon and Rhaegal? They were far too large to fit into one of those things, and she'd seen nothing of them. "We were just on that ship and sailing north, Jon. To see your family. And now you're ready to--" abandon them.

The thought's not finished, and instead, she turns her focus back to the scene before them. It seems less beautiful than moments ago, and a bitterness churns in her belly, rising quickly to the back of her throat.

Their world cannot be gone. A world cannot simply be destroyed.

But he talks as if it is. As if he's seen things to solidify that fact. How could he, when they'd been in each other's arms hours ago? None of this makes sense... lest she believes in her dreams.

"Where are my dragons?" she asks as his fingers glide down her back. She looks at him, then, as if seeing him for the first time; it's not with relief that she gazes upon him, but something guarded. How could he accept this so easily?

[song_of_ice]

He knows how it sounds and is unable to meet her gaze, ashamed of those darker thoughts. But he couldn't let go of it. Returning to Westeros meant returning to a hopeless war, one that seemed near impossible to win. A place where much of his family were killed and destroyed, where his sisters had suffered and his brother wandered in the wilderness. To have a place where everyone was safe, protected and together, it was hard to release that. He had put duty first all of his life, all he had ever done was fight. He wanted a moment of this, being with those he thought he lost and the peace that they brought.

"You weren't lost." It's said softly, whispered in amazement that she was here and she was real. It wasn't just some dream, before waking up to an empty reality. He shook his head, turning to look across the unending darkness. It was empty in a way he hadn't seen or felt since he was beyond the Wall, trapped on the island and facing a hopeless despair. "It's been nearly a year for me since I was on that ship."

He hadn't thought very much of the time that had passed, only lived that existence, waiting and watching as family came and went. Somewhere, he felt comfortable enough to consider Olympia a place he could settle. Maybe not a home, for it could never be that, but it wasn't nothing either. "My family is here, my father and my sister. Robb and Arya were here, but went back to sleep. Rickon and Bran are in those pods, my brothers from the Night's Watch. How can I want to go home when it means that they have to die again? I have them back."

He lets his hand fall away, seeing her reaction to him. "I don't know. Ghost was kept by the Natha and returned to me. So was Sansa's direwolf." The one who had been killed by Robert's order. "The Natha might have them."

[dorzalta]

A year. Ice pours down her spine, its chilled touch spreading as a plague to the rest of her body. Against all that she is, she shudders at the thought. How could nearly a year have passed, when their time together in Westeros...

She turns to face him with disbelief deep in the blues of her eyes and brows pinched together in a frown. He wouldn't lie to her. It's not why she reacts as she does. He hadn't lied about the dead, and look what happened when she hadn't believed him. She lost Viserion. The sting of that loss is still vivid and painful, like a missing limb. A piece of her heart, cut away.

Fingers grip his sleeve, tugging, coaxing him to face her. It's not enough. So she takes one step closer, into his space, near enough for his cloak to brush the front of her dress. A hand cups his cheek, her thumb describing the arch of his cheekbone ever so gently.

All those months would be ample time to accept what's occurred. Not so odd a concept, with the perspective of time to support these claims. And with his family here, a father and a sister... it was a second chance. She couldn't fault him for his earlier words in that respect. If it were possible for her own family to return, what might she have felt?

"Have I--" She clears her throat. "Have I been in that... that thing the entire time?"

This was more important. She would address her dragons again later.

[song_of_ice]

The full weight of it crushed against him, the look in her eyes smothering what indifference he had felt about his situation before. He hadn't been exactly content, well aware that he lacked her presence and support. He had lived alone before, but in only meeting his equal did he know what it was to be whole. Without her, he was aimless and uncertain, lacking her better instincts to temper his worse ones. He wished that time had moved differently, that it wasn't so distant from their last night together. But he couldn't keep that moment at a standstill, no more than he could move mountains.

He faces her, standing straighter as she presses close to him. He leans against her touch, holding her gaze with his own, apologetic and worn. Fingers brushed a stray curl from her brow, amazed at how soft her skin was. Did he really forget? That shouldn't be possible?

She would understand how he came to accept his existence here. She knew better than anyone what it was to be alone and without a place that felt like home. As much as he loved Winterfell, it had never been his. It belonged to his brothers and sisters, the trueborn Starks, while he had nothing in the world to claim as his own. Only a woman that had come to represent family and home to him, though he couldn't explain why.

He shook his head, "When I first woke, there was a problem. Some of my memories were missing." His eyes apologized, even though he wasn't the reason for that loss. "I only my life up until I was named king. You were awake then, but neither of us knew each other or spoke during the confusion. Sansa saw you and told me later, when my memories were returned."

It would raise more questions and unsettle her further, but she hadn't been asleep the entire time. "When I remembered everything, I waited for you. I came to find you everyday."

[dorzalta]

His look shaves another piece of her heart away, leaving a gaping hole, a screaming chasm. Viserion. Jon. So many lost and suffering even before them, and she wonders how one person could possibly shoulder so very much without crumbling beneath the weight of all that knowledge.

What's worse is that she could not be with him. It was far easier to shoulder such a burden with another, if for nothing else, than to know one is not alone. His father would not know of the dead. And his sister? She may, but she wasn't north of the Wall when the Night King's armies rose. On the ship, after she'd lost Viserion and had almost lost him... Dany shakes her head, ignoring the roaring thoughts in her mind as she presses to her toes and slips her arms around his neck.

The memory of him at her door is still so very vivid in her mind. The wild look in his eyes. The wonder in them, as if he was just as amazed as she that such a moment could be happening. She'd resolved that he was hers and she would protect him as fiercely as she would one of her own, but if she'd been in that terrible room, she'd already failed him.

"I don't recall being awake." She tucks her nose against his throat, breathing him in. Her arms tighten around his shoulders, and she's unsure if it's more to comfort he or she. Both? "Just dreams. That's all I had. A woman spoke to me."

She pulls back only when--"Every day?"

[song_of_ice]

He curls against her, resting his head against the top of her head, allowing the perfume of her hair soothe him and ease away the worries he had carried for near a year. There was a warmth in her that went beyond her blood and heart, a fire burning in her belly, just as her dragons carried. He was drawn towards it, as though he had never been born among ice and snow. He was pulled to her, allowed real warmth for the first time in his life.

Arms wrap around her waist, holding her firmly against him so that he could feel her heart beat next to his. He wished he could tell her something about that brief time she had been awake, what her experiences had been when they first landed on the planet. He only knew when the memories returned, her absence had been sharply felt. He still carried the carved dragon, needing a something to connect her to him, even while she slept.

"I know." He didn't expect her to, though he couldn't explain why. His own experience with memories being returned meant that it was equally possible for them to be taken away as well. "Sansa will know more and can tell you what happened." Whatever vice grip had held him before had eased away now, disappearing the moment she enfolded him in her arms. "What dream? What did the woman say to you?"

When she pulled back, he met her eyes with a shy smile. "Every day."

[dorzalta]

"I dreamt of the stars and the Great Stallion's fiery khalasar. She said Westeros was gone."

There was more, but she's no desire to dwell upon that conversation. Yet. Again, much like her dragons, there were other matters to discuss. Things to learn once she acclimated enough. If those who had saved she and Jon had saved his direwolf, then perhaps her dragons were spared as well. If she'd slept for nearly a year, then there were other matters to tend to before she demanded her reunion with Drogon and Rhaegal.

It was clear this time of separation between them was riddled with unpleasantness for Jon, though to what extent, she cannot say. Not all of it was terrible if his family was here, though. She was grateful for that. Fingers tracing his brow, her eyes flick over his features, recommitting them to memory.

And then the hint of a smile, like the one when he'd joked about them being fucked, tilts her lips. Not quite timid--a dragon never could be--but still all the same with him.

"What else do you do? Start from the beginning, and then we'll move on to the rest of it."

[song_of_ice]

That easiness returned, the same that they had found in the Dragonpit, the quiet corner away from the frustration and hopeless despair of their company. She reaches that tenderness that had been frozen inside him, drawing it out with that same quality that inspired so many others to follow her. What he had said was true, she wasn't like anyone else and a year away from her show just how much she had impacted his life. He had come to hear about a number of universes, but there was no one in them quite like her. There was only one Daenerys and she had been in the pod for too long.

His fingers tighten at her waist, holding firm to his foundation and hope, all personified in her. "I made a life for myself in Olympia." As much of one as he could. "I joined the royal guards and found a home for my family." It would be her home as well. Thankfully his room was large enough and didn't have very much in it to take up space.

He released her, only to fumble in his pocket, struggling to pull out the bulky wooden carving. It was intricately detailed, similar to her dragons, though this one had horns where Drogon didn't. He offered it out to her, as he had the dragon bone in the pit. "I found this in the market." There was no way to phrase it right, but she had to know that he bought it because of her.

"There hasn't been very much beyond this."

[dorzalta]

It is an easiness which is still so very familiar to her, for it had just occurred in her memory. She falls back into that companionability with relative ease, though there is a niggling worry in the back of her mind that his time awake has changed him in ways she cannot yet fathom.

Fingers ghost along the furs of his cloak as he speaks, that hint of a smile still remaining as she listens, soon shifting to something tinged with teasing amusement. "The King in the North is a royal guard, now?"

He's qualified for something far, far more than that. Not that it should matter, so long as it brings him some happiness.

Her hands slip away from him, falling back to her sides as he pulls back. There's a search for something in his pockets, and she tilts her head, curious about what he could possibly have to show her.

The last thing she expects to see is a dragon in his palm.

Immediately her expression grows impossibly soft, and that sense of unease from the time of her awakening lessens. He found a dragon carving in the market and bought it. How can her heart possibly swell so large in her chest and not burst? This simple figurine banishes the last remnants of cold from her as she reaches for it, achingly careful as she lifts it from his palm for further study.

"They even carved little teeth," she says with a laugh. "I can't say Drogon's are as charming as these."

[song_of_ice]

He chuckled under his breath, the last of it stolen away by her. He had forgotten what it was for a tender expression to settle on his features, for too long he had been hard and stern. Now, with her here, he can feel his eyes soften and his smile emerge from the recesses of his heart. "I bent the knee, your grace. I'm no longer king."

He hadn't been certain of the position among the Royal Guard at first, but he had grown prouder of it. He accomplished the things he wanted to in the Night's Guard. It felt like there was real honor and more men he was glad to serve alongside. It wasn't a rare handful as his friends had been.

But all of that falls away as he watches her reaction to the carved dragon. Her look lifts away the pressure he had been carrying about his shoulders. He looks and feels younger next to her, less world weary and worn. She was his quiet place away from the hardships of the world, even though she has shared it since they met.

He curled her hand around the dragon, raising it up so he could press a kiss to her fingers. "I can speak from experience and say that Drogon's teeth are nothing like these."

[dorzalta]

Ah, there's that look. Familiar and home, he manages what no others have by giving her girlish glee over his softening. The ice melts around him just a bit, and she's rewarded with one of his smiles. "That may be the case, but your people still believe you to be their king."

She's studying the dragon further, tracing one of its horns with a finger. Give it some coloring, take away its horns, and she might be convinced it was a rendition of Drogon or Rhaegal... maybe even Viserion.

Before melancholy can overtake her, her mirth comes unbidden, a quiet giggle, followed by a sweet smile as he presses a kiss to her fingers. He makes her heart soar and hatchlings take flight in her stomach. Giddiness has long become a stranger, but its return is sweet in his presence. "Careful, you might hurt his feelings if he overhears such a thing."

The idea is utterly ridiculous, and she doesn't care. Considering him for a moment, Dany soon reaches up with her free hand, cupping his cheek. It seems only natural to press to the tips of her toes and kiss him.

"Well met, zokla."

[song_of_ice]

"Give them time and they will see you for what your are." He repeated the words he spoke to her on the ship, more than certain it was true. In this world or another, she was a queen and she would inspire others to follow her and serve her loyally. It was in her nature, pumping through her blood. She was meant to be queen.

He had hoped she would like the little carving. It had given him comfort after his memories had been returned, the small connection he had to her and the piece of his heart he couldn't tuck away. He was vulnerable with her and he knew that others could recognize his feelings, but it never seemed to matter. He didn't see a need to keep it hidden.

"I think he will recover." He could at least laugh about that close encounter now. At the time, he had remained rooted in place, wavering between an all consuming fear and awe. A dragon inspired both, but it could be beautiful, as he learned over time. It was only a matter showing no terror, seeing past the fangs and fire to the majesty and magic such creatures possessed. He could understand why Daenerys loved them as she did. He had a creature of his own that others would view with trepidation.

The kiss catches him, pulling him from his thoughts. He doesn't resist and indulges in the first act of tenderness he allowed himself since waking. Duty and family had come first, just as it had in Westeros. Now with her awake, he wouldn't have to be torn between them. He could let the inevitable happen and she had always been inevitable for him.

He pressed his head to hers, gazing down into the depths of her blue eyes. "I don't know this word."

[dorzalta]

That unbending faith of his was the sort of thing to get a girl into trouble. It gave a person ideas the likes of which would end in trouble in this place, she thinks. Ruling as a queen for people she knows little about? True, the same occurred in Essos, and she'd garnered her armies, raised her dragons, and collected allies... but this world... it's not Westeros. She has no knights, here!

That amusement in her smile twists into a knowing smirk. With no need to proffer a reminder of his encounter with Drogon, Dany instead contents herself with the easiness of being near him. Like a string pulled taut, so too does she feel; it's only now that the string slackens just a bit, as does her chest, allowing her a breath.

Maybe she would tell him of the day she met a young man who had stolen one of Drogon's teeth back in Essos.

Perhaps another time, when their foreheads are not pressed together. Breaths shared, she allows her palm to slip down along his throat, settling on his shoulder. She offers him his dragon figurine.

"It means wolf in High Valyrian." Seems a fitting nickname for him. "You've yourself a wolf pack, now."

[song_of_ice]

He shook his head, his dark curls catching in her silver hair. They were tangled together in every way possible, only missing their naked limbs and the freedom of a bed. While he hadn't just been on her ship, the memory was sharp enough to draw him back. A flicker in her blue eyes and he could remember the way they looked set against the candlelight.

His grip was firm around her hand, pressing the dragon back into her hold. "I don't need this anymore." His voice was soft, only for her to hear. This tenderness she brought out in him shouldn't exist around others. It was hers alone, as was his heart.

He wasn't naive. He knew this could end just as easily as it began. She could return to stasis and disappear in the same way Robb and Arya had. He could be without her again, lost and hollow in a strange world. But in a strange turn in his fate, he refused to think or dwell on it, just as he refused to let duty impede this happiness. She was the exception to everything, encapsulating a vow that he would never break and honor until his final death.

Her voice was sweet as she spoke to him in High Valyrian, taking him back to the Dragonpit and when everything was finally settled in his mind, what he wanted and what he would do. "What should I call you?" He asked, bumping her nose with the tip of his, as a wolf did his mate. "Not 'Dany', not 'your grace.' My woman?"

[dorzalta]

It's amazing how one eve can change so very much in the dynamics shared between two people. She realizes it plays a role in all this--their closeness, the openness to which they indulge in this touching. The relief of seeing him in this strange place is near suffocating. It twists in her throat, the fear of being pulled back into that room and that box, with its cold metal and the heaviness to it. Jon, in comparison, is so very warm and alive. He's her anchor to the life still fresh in her mind. The bridge between that life and.... this new one.

Fingers wrap around the wooden figure, slow and hesitant. There's the flicker of doubt in her gaze as she pulls back enough to regard him, the makings of a frown furrowing her brows. It was his. She didn't--but this was a reminder, was it not? A reminder of who and what she is. A reminder of the blood which flows through her veins, the power of it. This place would not bury its claws into her, dictating how she would live.

Tilting her chin up, she regards him with that gentler gaze--the look which smoothed her features, eradicating the cool mask she typically donned. "I suppose you don't. Not with a real dragon here." Dany reaches for him with her free hand, cupping his cheek. She'd be strong for them both. He would not feel that loneliness again--not if she could help it. Near a year, gods...

Soon enough, their noses are bumping, and a warm chuckle slips past upturned lips. "Mn, am I no longer your queen, then? I rather enjoyed that one." This was still so very new to her. However much she yearned for him, there was still the flash of unease over being anyone's woman. No matter his meaning behind it, however innocent it may be, that was the sort of claim which reminded her of the days with the Dothraki. With Viserys. "Do you like Dany?"

[song_of_ice]

It had been a flimsy link, found only after he had retrieved his memories. It seemed like luck then, one of the rare instances when it came to him. But maybe he had been searching for something, anything that could bring them together again. This tiny dragon had given him something, a momentary flicker of warmth whenever he looked at it or felt it in his pocket.

It belonged with her now, a reminder that he had kept her in his thoughts. It had been nearly a year, but he still carried her with him, even in spirit. She wouldn't have to worry or question his loyalty, it was there for her to see, evidence that he was a man of his word and she would always be his queen.

He leaned against her palm, gently nuzzling into her touch. He kept hold of her other hand, the one that contained his dragon. There was no space left between them, he could feel the curl of her breath against his skin and smell the sweet perfume of her hair. It was as strong as he remembered from that night.

"You will always be a queen." Even when she was alone in Essos. It was in her presence and strength. She could be without a country and she would still be a queen, especially to him. "It's not as much of a mouthful as Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains..." he trailed off.

[dorzalta]

She marvels over this open affection. So very different and unrestrained it is, now, versus all the times when they'd been together prior to that eve on a Targaryen boat. None would ever tame him, no. He was as wild as the animal of his House in that regard, for however much he maintained an amiable appearance before others. She'd witnessed firsthand that wildness, and multiple times since beyond the Wall.

But to see him softened and so affectionate... It tugs a tenderness from she as well, not stayed by the reservation of being discovered (and they could be, at any moment in this room). He has the uncanny ability to make the world slip away, until it's only he and she. The very same occurs now, as her thumb gently traces the arch of his cheek, and the stubble of his beard scratches against the leather of her glove.

He speaks the truth of her always being a queen. And yet-- "We're no longer in a place where my dragons fly free, or where a Targaryen's claim holds sway." Was the room she'd been housed in not proof enough of that? "It's much the same as Essos in that regard."

These were details to mull about--later. Instead, the light huff of laughter echoes between them.

"Missandei would be most displeased with your lack of remembrance." A light quip. The following silence is a thoughtful one, and during that pause, she leans back just enough to look into his eyes. "Viserys called me Dany. Perhaps its time to replace bad with good."

[song_of_ice]

He had never done this before, offering a woman so much open affection that others couldn't help but notice. While he had a lover once before and Melisandre's attention, neither of those encounters had prepared him for something like this. He had tried to put his duty first, focusing on the Night King and everything that needed to be done to secure both Cersei and Dany's support. But after the events beyond the Wall, putting this off and ignoring it no longer seemed possible. She was inevitable for him and everything inside him hummed with anticipation. She rooted him in a way he had never experienced until now and occupied every inch of him.

He thinks back to the woman he saw in the throne room at Dragonstone, how severe and cold she was. He didn't know what to think of her, but it was never something like this. Seeing that vulnerability and tenderness on her features had changed everything, now he never wanted to be without it. Just a simple touch, the feel of her gloved hand against her skin makes his breath hitch.

"That doesn't matter." Never to him and never to the people she inspired. "You're still queen and I am still sworn to you." He had told her before that even without her dragons, she was different than the rest. She was still extraordinary.

He smiled shyly, looking nothing more than a boy beside her. "It must have taken some time for her to memorize it." He had been impetuous in using that name, enough that he didn't blame her for brushing its use aside. So it was a surprise to hear her offer it to him now. He gazes down at her, watching as the light danced in her, mesmerized by her presence. In a low voice, he murmured her name. "Dany."

[dorzalta]

Dragon wings take flight in her chest. It doesn't matter how often he says it, but each time he swears himself to her, the effect is near overwhelming. None so much as in the Dragonpit, when he'd announced his loyalties to her before so many. It was so much like that eve where Drogo had sworn to the Great Stallion that he would take the Seven Kingdoms for her.

But with Jon, it's much more profound. He doesn't swear her a throne, nor does he assume himself to be more capable than she of obtaining it. And that was the difference: Drogo led, Daario followed, and Jon walks beside her. Being his queen brings something to mind-- "Do my advisors sleep?"

Her fingers trail down his cheek, the tips lightly dragging against his lips before her hand drops from his cheek to tangle in the furs of his cloak. This near to him is intoxicating, making her giddy. So very new this all is, she realizes. Drogo and Daario were men who forced her to be a woman far beyond her age; with Jon, she's simply Dany. And Dany feels girlishly silly--at a complete loss, really, with her stomach threatening to flip itself.

Yet despite how foreign and comfortable and terrifying it all is, she thrills in their nearness.

"I like it better, already," she murmurs. She's just about to say something else, to tease him for looking so adorably earnest, when voices break her reverie. The shift is near instant: open to something more guarded, as her gaze flicks to those who step into this space. She doesn't step away from him, in fact, her fingers tighten in his furs. But she also doesn't look as happy, now, with faces unrecognizable. "What else is there in this place? You said you were part of the royal guard, yet you're here."

[song_of_ice]

He can only nod before others interrupt their solitude. He doesn't think very much about what others might have witnessed between them. They were sharing an intimate moment, but there was nothing compromising between them. This was simply their natural state, brought on whenever they were close to each other, naturally drawn out from behind their walls and into a measure of tenderness. Others could see it, if they wanted, it wasn't for their eyes though. They disappeared in his mind.

He gave her hand a gentle tug, pulling her away from the windows and the intruders. They stayed here for too long. She deserved to be somewhere full of light and color, where there was warmth from the sun and the sound of trees rustling under the breeze. This was a place of cold steel and iron. It wasn't for her.

"We can move between the planet and the station." He pushes them past the strangers, ignoring their questioning glances as he lead his lover away. "It is where the rest are, those who aren't asleep." Sadly, her advisers were, but they at least had each other. "They give you temporary housing until you can find something for yourself. The city has a number of markets and inns, similar to Westeros. I want to show you the entertainment district. Men and women sing there and dance on the street." Out of nowhere too, which surprised him.

"Come, let me take you below."