first. }{ video.

[iwillnotlookback]

 [ The girl on the screen looks younger than her years, and she is still rather young. Only sixteen, the burnt-away stubble of silvery-blonde hair highlights her sharp cheekbones and draws attention to her large violet eyes in a way that makes her look like a doll. A very feral sort of doll. Her expression can be best described as a mixture of irritation, weariness, and childlike curiosity. And over it all a mask of regality. Nearly bald and ragged-looking she may be, she still looks every inch a queen. ]

Tell me, are all our dear hosts so exceptionally skilled in making obeisance and providing obfuscation for their master? I ask the reason for my presence and they tell me that knowledge is the Emperor's. I demand to know where my dragon is and they simper and apologize. Not one will deign to give me a clear answer, only riddles. More riddles. I am weary of riddles.

[ Dany sighs, a certain something in the way her eyes slip briefly closed betraying just how very tired she is. It never ends, does it? At least she is clean now. The first thing she did when the kedan led her to her quarters was bathe, soaking away her aches and pains and scrubbing off the accumulated weeks' worth of filth and blood in water heated near to boiling. Merely world-weary is marginally better than being both world-weary and filthy. ]

Very well. If we are to be companions in entrapment, we might at least know one another. I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Mother of Dragons, a khaleesi of the Dothraki, Queen of Meereen and rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. I would know you, and whatever you can tell me. [ Pause. ] And if you have seen a dragon, say, the size of an aurochs, colored black and red, I would know that too. You will be well rewarded, I swear. Though I beg you not to approach him, as his temperament is…quite volatile.

Comments

[thetyrant]

[Logan's kneejerk reaction is "you're not queen I'm king" but he knows that's a little ridiculous right now. It would be a response meant for his sister the revolutionary, unfair to put it on this woman. And truth be told, he's impressed how she can look so calm and queenly while she's so obviously been through hell.]

I will keep an eye out for this dragon, though I'm afraid I don't know what an aurochs is nor its size.

The kedan like their secrets, alas, but we "honored guests" tend to stick together, at least. My name is Logan, king of a land called Albion.

[iwillnotlookback]

Though your land is unfamiliar to me, I am honored to meet you, Your Grace. I hope I might rely upon you as a friend.

An aurochs is a sort of cattle, larger than the common breed. Drogon is half again as long as an aurochs, his scales colored black with red wings.

[thetyrant]

[Whoa there sister Logan doesn't know this "friend" concept. Kings don't have feelings. He can play diplomat, though, for a few minutes at a time at least.] The honor is mine, your majesty. Do you have a preferred title?

Ah, I see. [Cattle he knows.] I will look for him.

[iwillnotlookback]

[ Diplomacy must work differently where you're from, Logan. In Essos and Westeros, rulers use lots of pretty words with empty meaning. ]

Your Grace is the proper term of address for a queen in Westeros, and Khaleesi is my Dothraki title.

You have my thanks.

[thetyrant]

[He hasn't had to do a lot of diplomacy. Albion is remarkably untouched by the rest of the world. People are too busy fighting within their villages to start wars between nations.]

Your Grace. [He inclines his head politely.]

May I inquire as to why you seek a dragon?

[iwillnotlookback]

Is it not meet and proper that a mother not seek her child?

[thetyrant]

You are the mother to dragons?

[...okay, that's a new one, but he can't say it's boring. It's actually enough to distract him from his own problems for a minute.]

[iwillnotlookback]

To three: Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal.

[thetyrant]

...Ah.

Are you a Hero, then? [He can't imagine any way a normal woman could do that.]

[iwillnotlookback]

I am a woman, and a queen. I do not know that I am a hero.

[thetyrant]

[Someday he'll figure out that most worlds don't have Heroes, or don't call them that.] Heroes, in my world, are people who can master certain talents. Talents of strength, skill in ranged combat, or magic and willpower.

[iwillnotlookback]

Are you a Hero?

[thetyrant]

No. [And doesn't it burn to say so; there's an edge to his voice as he says it, the merest hint that he's not happy about that.] My mother and sister are.