randomosity | [For Jorah] Reclaiming Dragons

[For Jorah] Reclaiming Dragons

Viserion and Rhaegal had been locked away in the larger dungeons. It had absolutely killed Daenerys to do it, but she could not have her children flying about killing innocent people. Innocent children especially. But they were feral now - angry. Each time she had tried to enter the dungeon both her dragons had snapped viciously at her and breathed intense plumes of fire at her that had Daenerys feeling terror she hadn't felt in some time.

This was what she had tasked Ser Jorah with: Helping her regain control of her dragons, her children. When he had been by her side, all had been well - the instant he left, everything had begun to fall apart. Nothing had gone as smoothly as it once had after she had exiled Jorah. But he was back now, that's what mattered.

Perhaps he had been right when he had said she'd babied her dragons too much. But she hadn't had it in her to physically discipline them, or bring them harm in general.

They stood before the dungeons, the stone door had been rolled aside, but there was only ink-black darkness that stared back at them. Daenerys couldn't help but breathe deep, showing her fear when she stood beside him. Deep down she worried, what if she never regained control of her children? Had she been foolish to call herself the Mother of Dragons?

Her violet eyes glanced up to him, trying to maintain some semblance of her strength and ferocity. But Jorah knew her - deep down she knew he would see her true feelings.

"Are you ready, Ser Jorah?" she asked, keeping her tone level as she took a step towards the open door.

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[ jorah had hoped but not expected daenerys to give him a second chance. didn't dare to presume she would show him such kindness and mercy, for fear of being wrong, turned away all over again … or, worse, his queen making good on her threat of death, the removal of his head by the eunuch belwas. but now here he stands, at his beloved queen's side once more, looking ever the knight in his unadorned westerosi armor, one thick, hairy hand curled loosely around the sweat-stained leather hilt of the steel hanging in its scabbard from his hip. ]

[ it isn't appropriate garb for the meereenese climate, as evidenced by the sweat beading across the big knight's forehead, cheeks, nose, neck, and chin, and it certainly isn't appropriate garb for dealing with dragons. that being said, if jorah had the opportunity to change into something cooler and more apt for the task at hand, he wouldn't. why? because he wants to look the part of the honorable knight despite knowing that after everything he's done he knows he is anything but. he's trying, though. trying real hard. is desperate to gain back his queen's trust and return to her good graces by proving himself worthy, showing her how sorry he is, that even though he fucked up he's still her man, her bear, her soldier, her knight. ]

[ when the stone door of the dungeon is rolled aside by a handful of daenerys' unsullied, jorah breathes deeply through his nose, tightening his grip on his sword. he has no intention of using it, but the blade is a comfort. ]

[ features hard, the knight edges forward, armor clinking as he moves. in the space ahead all he can see is darkness, pitch black and seemingly endless. a gateway to hell, part of thinks. another man might've trembled, then, backed out. but not him. daenerys' dragons are terrifying creatures, to be sure, especially now that they're no longer hatchlings the size of cats, but jorah remembers them as babies, for want of a better word, how daenerys mothered them. they may be angry and bordering on feral now, drogon especially, but with patience, time, and a firm hand mayhaps daenerys will be able to tame her dragons, domesticating them once more. ]

[ jaw tightening, jorah strains his ears to listen for the dragons. after a moment he hears the faint clink of chains, the distant hiss of smoky breath. from where he and daenerys are stood it's impossible to tell if the barely audible noises came from viserion or rhaegal. there's only one way to find out, jorah thinks, about to respond to his queen and step inside until he glimpses dany's fear. his countenance softens, then. ]

Be brave, now, Khaleesi. Do not let them sense your fear.

[ he warns her, unconcerned about speaking freely about what is plain for only him to see on account of the unsullied not being able to speak the common tongue. ]

[Daenerys had actually been focusing on his armor for a bit longer than what was probably considered polite. True enough, it wasn't proper for the climate of Meereen. But he looked so strong, so dashing, so very much the knight she'd always thought him to be. It was so easy to get swept up in the idea of being beside him, having him sweep her up in his arms.]

[But they weren't here for that. They were here to focus on her dragons and bring them back under her control.]

[Her lips pressed tight together when he spoke. Truly he was he was her strength. Already she felt infinitely better, stronger, safer. She proceeded after him into the dungeon, surrounded by the sickening heat of the darkness.]

They were so angry before. They hate me now. Imagine; children despising their mother.

[Still, they've not yet seen her two children. Daenerys stepped forward, biting back her fear. She called out to the darkness.]

Viserion! Rhaegal!

[There was a short pause before a low growl sounded from the dark. Daenerys sees the glow of fire from between one of the dragons' teeth. Still, she can't tell which one. Then there's a short burst of flame, too far from either of them to cause damage. The burst revealed both dragons; Rhaegal in front of Viserion.]

[Both dragons growl and snap their jaws viciously, approaching both mother and guard quickly, the occasional burst of flame spouting from their jaws.]

[ as they make their way down, the darkness of the dungeon becomes all-consuming. for a brief moment, ser jorah wonders if should offer daenerys a hand to help with the potentially treacherous descent, though he ultimately decides to refrain. if she required a hand to steady her she would have asked for one. and, of course, it's not as though she's never been down into the catacomb dungeons before. mayhaps he's just being overprotective as is his wont. daenerys probably knows the steps by heart. ]

[ cautious, half-squinting as his eyes adjust to the lack of light, jorah moves slowly and with care. ]

Anger is not the same as hatred, Your Grace.

[ jorah replies, honest and reassuring, for if the dragons truly despised their mother daenerys would not be standing here drawing breath. ]

[ yes, once he had told her dragons could not be tamed, even by their mother. but if he still believed that he would not be here. would be anywhere but. taming and training viserion and rhaegal will not be easy, especially now, but it can be done. the numerous targaryen dragons of the past are proof of that. and if daenerys ever hopes to take the seven kingdoms training her dragons is a must, for when the people of westeros see them soaring high in the sky, daenerys atop one of their backs, silver hair billowing behind her, the houses loyal house targaryen, the houses that fought for them during the war of the usurper, will rise up, armed and armoured, and the kingdoms will belong to the dragon once more. she will have strength enough then, jorah thinks, knowing that the mere sight of dragons, let alone the first whiff of victory, will be enough to sway non-targaryen loyalists to support daenerys' claim. ]

[ at the sight of viserion and rhaegal, jorah, ever protective, instinctively puts himself in front of daenerys, the heat of the fire breathed out by the dragons combined with the warmth of meereen causing every inch of his body to drip with sweat. it's an unpleasant sensation, but not an unfamiliar one. ]

Keep your distance, Khaleesi, but stand your ground. Show them strength. Do not fear to look them in the eye.

[She did as Jorah advised, keeping her distance, staying behind him at first. She felt safer behind him, protected. But then it occurred to her; how must that look to her children? Seeing their mother hesitate to come near, cowering behind a man when she came to them.]

[No wonder they didn't trust her.]

[Daenerys pushed past him a bit and stepped forward. Taking his advice again, and refusing to show fear. Viserion still growled and breathed plumes of fire while Rhaegal stopped breathing fire. He simply dropped his head low and there came a deep rumbling growl from the back of his throat.]

[She wanted to run, to fling herself into Jorah's embrace and turn away, but she refused. Daenerys approached, feeling the heat of Viserion's fire draw the sweat from her skin. Rhaegal kept low, eyes flashing in the firelight.]

[Daenerys thought she may have gotten through to him, that Rhaegal still loved her and craved his mother's touch again. Surely there was hope!]

[Then the dragon lashed out with his jaws. Even as Daenerys dropped back, his razor teeth slashed over her arm and made her scream out in pain.]

[ the exile knight's heart quickens as daenerys steps forward, her body no longer shielded by his. not that it would've done much good, mind you. if either one of them had been in range of viserion's and rhaegal's fiery breath the hot yellow-orange blasts blown out of their mouths would have been enough to cook the both of them alive, armor, clothes, skin, bones, and all. jorah swallows, resting the urge to shudder at the thought, lips and brows twitching with apprehension as dany approaches her dragons. ]

[ mayhaps they should have fed them first, gave them sheep and goats as a peace offering of sorts. beasts cooperate better on a full stomach. turning sideways, his gaze darting back and fourth between daenerys and the open entrance, jorah sucks in a breath, readying his voice to shout up a command for food to the eunuchs above. but then he the snap of strong jaws, a scream of pain, and the scuffle of feet as daenerys drops back, and the words die in his throat as he witnesses the end of rhaegal's attack. ]

Khaleesi!

[ everything becomes something of a blur, then. thoughtless, acting on instinct and instinct alone, the big knight darts forward quick as an arrow, grabs daenerys, and pulls her back to safety just before the large, scaled, fearsome beasts spit out a combined blast of burning flames … flames that would've consumed them whole had jorah spared a moment to think before acting. eyes brimming with worry, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach as he realizes he's the one to blame, one hand pushes back the damp silver strands from dany's face while the other slides gently under her wounded arm to hold it up for inspection. there's only one problem: in the dark it's difficult to tell just how badly daenerys is hurt. ]

I should never have— Forgive me, Khaleesi, I—

[ no, there will be time enough for apologies later. jorah glances upwards, hears the unsullied shout out words from above, but viserion's and rhaegal's ear-splitting screeches make it impossible to shout up a reply. jorah's mouth tightens. ]

We must leave. You have hurts that need tending to.

[ just in case she had any notions about staying and trying again. ]

[Daenerys felt an overwhelming combination of emotions as Jorah dragged her to safety. Shock, terror, pain, even betrayal. One of her dragons, one of her children, had just attacked her! What had she done to warrant such a reaction? She had acted any mother would! She had locked them away to protect them, to protect her new kingdom!]

[They truly hated her, they must have in order for this to happen.]

[She didn't register Jorah's words at first. Then after a few moments and the pain set in she finally broke down and let herself just cry. Daenerys didn't know how else to react.]

What have I done? Seven hells...they'll never obey me again!

[After a few tears stream down her face and she heaved a few sobs, Daenerys glanced up to him. No, she couldn't do this, couldn't show such weakness.]

[She tried to move but her body wouldn't respond. Crippling pain just shot through her arm and neared her chest.]

...Jorah...

I can't move...

[ her tears are human, a natural response. others might have perceived them as weakness, saw the child behind the queen, but not him. even with tears sliding down her cheeks she's still the strongest and bravest person he knows. for half a heartbeat, jorah considers wiping daenerys' tears away with his thumb before anyone else can see them, but then she says she cannot move and suddenly his only concern is lifting her up into his strong arms and carrying her out of the darkness and into the light. ]

[ soothingly; in the softest tone he has: ]

I've got you, my queen. [ softer still: ] Hush now, Daenerys. You're safe.

[ he hopes it's just shock, mental and not physical, but … no. no, it doesn't bear thinking about. behind him, he can feel viserion's and rhaegal's wings flapping wildly. leaving them shackled and chained isn't ideal. it will only serve to make the beasts angrier, more ferocious. but they cannot stay, and even if they could he's not sure daenerys would want to. i was wrong, the big knight thinks guiltily, blaming himself for her tears, the injury to her arm. he should never have agreed to help her. should have put her safety first. realized that he had the right of it the first time when he told her dragons could not be tamed, not even by their mother. gods, how could he have been so stupid? ]

[ and then it hits him. ]

[ agreeing to her conditions for a second chance was naught but selfishness and sheer folly. he had been so desperate to return to his rightful place at her side that he had not been thinking straight, made a promise he could not keep. his mouth twists at the memory. if she hadn't let him back into her life this would not have happened. she would be safe and unhurt and … focus, fool, he tells himself sharply, carrying his queen out of the dungeon catacombs as quickly as he can, calling out to the world above for a healer. ]

[Daenerys yelped as her arm was jostled when he lifted her up. Pain shot through her arm and made her whimper. In need of comfort, in need of strength, she leaned into him, pressing her face against the warm metal of his armor. There was a burning heat that radiated through her skin where the dragon's teeth had made contact.]

[As he carried her out of the dungeon, all she could think about was how she didn't want him to let go of her. Being in his arms seemed like the safest place in the world.]

[As they left, the Unsullied heard Jorah's cries for a healer. When they saw the condition of their queen they bolted to fetch the healer. But Daenerys cried out in pain and looked up desperately to Jorah.]

Stop...stop, please. It hurts.

[Each time he took a step it sent pain shooting up her arm. The only comfort came in the way he held her and his scent, which was amplified by the way he was sweating from the heat.]

[She didn't blame him for her predicament. Daenerys needed to regain control of her dragons - she had tried what she'd thought was best. And it had backfired.]

[ he carries her as though she were a child, small and weightless, cradling against his chest. bearishly strong as ser jorah is, though, by the time he reaches the light, his breathing is laboured and heavy, his muscles sore with exhaustion from the ascent. he does not drop her, though. nor does he give her over the the unsullied. not they try to take her, especially not when she begs him to stop. the eunuchs just fix him with a look, understanding daenerys' expression rather than her words, the look of excruciating pain contorting her features. ]

[ ser barristan will love him not for this, not that the old man had any love for him in the first place nor jorah for him. in fact, the only reason he troubles himself to think of ser barristan as he holds daenerys in his strong, armour-clad arms is because the old knight's words might make daenerys question and exile him once more. ]

Just a few more moments, Your Grace.

[ then her injury can be tended to. ]

[Daenerys whimpered and shook her head. Her nails scraped against his armor. She couldn't stand it. She couldn't go further. The pain was too intense.]

No, no please! I can't...

Bandage me here, tear my dress if you must - Gods but it burns so much!

[Daenerys didn't want to leave Jorah's arms. She wanted him to keep holding her, she wanted him to keep her close. Daenerys felt safest as he held her. She didn't want to be turned over to the healers.]

Don't leave me, please...

[There was so much meaning in those few words. She didn't want him to leave her side, didn't want to be left to the healers. Daenerys wanted him by her side, always.

Khaleesi, I— [ his eyes drop to her arm. ] That might not be wise.

[ if the cut created by rhaegal's sword sharp teeth were normal, made by a blade or something other than a dragon, jorah would not have thought twice about cleaning the wound and bandaging it to the best of his ability before someone more experienced in treating the injured arrives. that being said, he doesn't want daenerys to suffer or to seem disobedient. ]

Material will only irritate it more, Daenerys.

[ jorah explains, his homely features full of apology before vehemently promising not to leave her, desperate to believe her words are genuine and not just words brought on by pain. even if they weren't, though, they would still mean more than he could say to him. ]

[Her fingers dug into his chest, nails scratching over his armor in her pain. She whimpered as he refused to obey her, but she knew deep down that he was right. Daenerys nodded weakly as she buried her face against his neck.]

They hate me...

[That made the pain all the worse. One of her children had bitten her, could have killed her easily.]

It hurts so much...

I know. [ he doesn't, but he can imagine. hopes his sympathy will bring her some sliver of comfort. ] But you have to be strong, Khaleesi.

[ without moving her too much, jorah somehow manages to get a rough thumb to her cheek. then he gently moves it back and fourth, wiping the tears from her eyes as best he can before the healer arrives. it would not do for anyone else to see her cry, especially not ser barristan, who is the first to arrive at their queen's side, a look of pure loathing on his face at the sight of the other knight. for the most part, jorah ignores him, fixes his gaze on the healer instead, growling for him to hurry up. ]

[She was grateful for the soothing touch of his thumb over her cheek. Such a simple gesture, and yet it made all the difference.]

[When the healer arrived to attend to her, Daenerys refused to let anyone move her from Jorah's arms. His grip was her safe haven. She ignored Ser Barristan and his glares, they were no concern to her.]

[The healer applied a soothing ointment to help disinfect the wound. Then he wrapped it in a medicine-soaked cloth. The healer then informed both men that she would need to be taken to her chamber to rest. When Barristan reached to take her away, Daenerys gave a sound of protest and leaned against Jorah.]

Please don't go... [Her words were soft, meant only for him.]

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[For Jorah] Reclaiming Dragons

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