[For Jorah] Reclaiming Dragons

[motheroftitles]

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.

Comments

[persecute]

[ 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. ]