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[ 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.

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[Temeraire is near bursting with curiosity, and there are a hundred and one questions he wishes to ask by the time he finishes poking through everyone else's posts. He does not wish to seem rude--the girl on the screen does not look very much like a queen to him, with no jewels, or hair, but her expression makes him think she is being serious after all. She is the second girl in as many days who is looking for a dragon, and it does not seem very fair to him that two companions should be here, and neither of them his. That disappointment loosens his tongue, even as he feels some empathy for her situation.]

I am very sorry, but as everyone has said, I am the only dragon in Keeliai, as far as I can tell. But I will keep an eye out for Drogon; it is always hard to lose your companion, however temporarily.

[He hesitates, then:] Pray, how is it you are the mother of dragons, if you are a human?

[ To her credit, she does not show her surprise. But she feels it, a shaky leaping of her heart. The tales Viserys told her spoke of dragons as surpassing clever, kings among beasts—but beasts still, and incapable of human speech. ]

They were stone eggs when I was gifted them, their kin long dead and gone, and yet I hatched them from my lord husband's funeral pyre and nursed them with milk from my own breast. Thus, I am mother to the only three living dragons in the world. Where I am from, it is a wonder.

Naturally, it is a great honor to meet a dragon full grown. I had not thought to have that pleasure for many seasons yet. Temeraire is your name, is it not?

[The girl sounds respectful and strangely formal, in sharp contrast to the more casual modes of speech favored by most of the foreigners here, and Temeraire listens with growing interest as she speaks. He knows already that dragons are different in many of the worlds represented on the turtle, if they exist at all, but it is still strange to hear of them spoken of this way, as if they have only just barely come out of myth and legend.]

Our eggs are not so, at all; they must be kept warm, of course, but certainly not set on fire, and our hatchlings do not need to be fed milk, only a nice sheep, or part of a cow. [His voice is not so much offended as it is a little shocked, perhaps, at the practice.] But it speaks well of you, that you were willing to care for them so, and it must be very difficult for you to be separated from them.

Yes, I am Temeraire; pray, how would you prefer to be addressed? Only you seem to have a great many titles, and I think it would take too long to say them all.

I only did what any mother would.

It would be absurd for you to call me Mother of Dragons, that's a certainty. [ She chuckles nervously. ]

Call me Khaleesi, if you wish. My title among the horselords of the great grass sea.

[A faintly amused rumble.] Khaleesi it is. So you are a queen? I suppose it is fitting, then, that your dragons have you for a mother and a companion; where I am from, it is usual for a dragon to be bonded to one person only, but I grant you your circumstances are quite unusual.

If you speak of mounting, the tales my brother told me of the days when dragons still ruled said no man could ride another's mount. But I confess I know little and less of the truth.

Mine are the only dragons alive, you see, the rest gone for more than a century, and I am the last of my line.

Well, that does not make a great deal of practical sense, when even a middleweight can seat a crew of ten to fifteen at least, but it is true that we generally prefer one companion above all others. Are your dragons very large when full-grown?

[He is quiet for a moment; it is easy enough to put together the pieces, if says her brother told her tales, and she is now the last of her line.] And I am sorry for your loss, and for that of the dragons.

A...a crew? Forgive me, but you speak of your species as if you're ships.

[ But she smiles, a courtesy in answer to that he offers. ]

You are kind, my lord.

[A snort.] Well, the British government certainly seems to think of us as such, and most of Europe as well--our primary role is in combat, after all. But regardless of how we are viewed, is it not much more sensible to station more than one person on a dragon, if he or she can bear the weight? I should hardly be much more effective in battle without my riflemen aboard.

[He wavers uncertainly for a moment at the unfamiliar address--he is not any kind of lord, at all. But this sort of respect is rather what he was used to in China, and he cannot say it is unpleasant, so he lets it slide for the moment, albeit a little guiltily.]

To be sure, my lord, I am only a young girl and know little of the ways of war.

But you are a Queen, are you not? I should think it is very important for a Queen to learn how to fight, if she is to help protect everyone. Besides, it is good to be young: then you might learn more quickly, and everyone might underestimate you in the meantime.

[ If there is a hint of pride to her features, it is not undue. ]

Drogon is only now large enough to ride; Viserion and Rhaegal as well. When my people are ready I will take them across the world and conquer the kingdoms that are mine by right of birth and blood.

[That gives Temeraire pause at last: he wavers for a moment, looking uncertain. It is all well and good to talk of being a queen--he has met one of those before, and she was perfectly pleasant--but then she was not trying to take over everything, at all.]

And if they do not wish to be taken over?

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