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westwhere2021-11-10 11:49 am
thebrideoffire) wrote in westwhere2021-11-10 11:49 am
"Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?"
WHO: Daenerys Targaryen and OTA!
WHEN: As nobles and merchants return to the Citadel
WHERE: Merchant Square, the gates Taravast, and Palace of the Doxe
WHAT: Arrival of the Mother of Dragons
WARNINGS:
I. Arrival to the Citadel
The welcome has been overwhelming, to say the least. A far better sight than Khal Jhaqo and his khalasar. Though when she had first come to in the Stairs of Sighs and was spotted by the band of minor nobles and merchants, it wasn't much of a different feeling than seeing the Dothraki. In both situations, it was simply Dany with Drogon, now it seemed, he was the size he had been in Astapor. There was no riding him now, instead he curled around her shoulders and neck. His serpentine body and black scales startling against the canyon and harsh sun.
She would have to reflect on the magic of it later and how someone had managed to change her child. The moment the men and women saw Drogon, they crowded around Daenerys eagerly. For the few daring to touch her dragon, she quickly pushed their hands away, sensing Drogon's agitation as his claws dug into her skin. She attempted to communicate with them, not recognizing their language. First in the Old Ghiscari/High Valyrian blend of the Meereenese. Next trying simple High Valyrian. When that didn't work, she hoped and prayed the Commmon Tongue would be understood, but that was much like the rest. The most she tried finding their language, the more the pressed in around her and stared at her with wonder. Finally, in desperation, she tried Dothraki, but that was a lost cause.
So here she was, tattered, burned and dirty, looking more like she crawled from the bowels of the Seven Hells, following a large group of people and relying on their gestures to understand them. It didn't help that as they reached the entrance to their city, others started to flock around her as well. She wasn't feeling nearly as regal or majestic as the people were treating her. The more they crowded in, the more agitated Drogon started to become. She kept her hand on him, but soon he was launching himself from her shoulders, taking to the sky and flying across the Citadel.
"Drogon!"
II. Merchant Square
It's becoming more and more obvious that something was being planned when Daenerys was ushered into the Merchant's Square. The man that repeatedly called himself "Rosso Capello" had stayed with her up until the square. Only then did the merchants take control of her. Some stood on crates or boxes, spouting lofty speeches and stories, that while Dany couldn't understand, recognized as some extoling of virtues. She wasn't exactly a glorious sight, but people still stared in awe at her. There was no real room to escape, and for better or worse, she was relying on the people that found her to take her somewhere safe.
She just didn't expect to become a side show at the same time, no different than the mummers and slave auctions in Essos.
Drogon returned, perching on one of the stalls and staring down with his red eyes, no different than the blood red of his horns and back plates. He was terrifying, but that seemed to please the people. They turned away from Dany towards her dragon, still not looking overly pleased with the attention.
'How long before he retaliates? I need something to hold him, to keep him in check.'
The whip she acquired in Daznak's Pit was gone now, but there were so many stalls and so much merchandise, there had to be a whip somewhere. She touched the shoulders of people, repeating the request again and again. "Please, I need a whip." Only to be met once again with the blank (but mesmerized) stares of the people.
"Please can someone understand me?" She shouted in common tongue.
III. Palace of the Doxe
By the end of it all, Dany is exhausted. There was a grim realization of what was happening when money exchanged hands and she was lead away by...some noble household. The way the merchants responded to them, it was someone influential and of high standing. There was no gold collar, at least. No brand on her face denoting what she was slated for (which thank the Gods didn't seem to be a pleasure house.) It was possible to escape all of this as she had helped the others in Astapor. True, there was no army, but there was Drogon.
Yet...the idea of more charred bones at her feet, chaos in the city and looks of anger made her feel sick to her stomach. Where was she supposed to go? What should she even do? This place was foreign to her and she was starting to realize it wasn't Essos. So, without much objection, she followed to the Palace of the Doxe.
Along the way, a sorceress named Karsa offered her a communication and translation device. It was such a relief that Dany started to cry in gratitude. At least she wouldn't be lost in both language and world. There was information, stories about others who were newcomers to the world, which cleared up how she got here. Knowing there were others also was a comfort, though she didn't ask if they were bought and sold as well. She'd find out soon enough.
Reaching the Palace, Dany took a seat on the marble floor, not responding to any further attempts to move her. They brought her here, but they couldn't make her budge. Not until she was ready and had some energy. There were others, people who appeared a bit out of place compared to the rest.
Hoping they might understand her now, she called over, "Are you a newcomer as well?"
WHEN: As nobles and merchants return to the Citadel
WHERE: Merchant Square, the gates Taravast, and Palace of the Doxe
WHAT: Arrival of the Mother of Dragons
WARNINGS:
I. Arrival to the Citadel
The welcome has been overwhelming, to say the least. A far better sight than Khal Jhaqo and his khalasar. Though when she had first come to in the Stairs of Sighs and was spotted by the band of minor nobles and merchants, it wasn't much of a different feeling than seeing the Dothraki. In both situations, it was simply Dany with Drogon, now it seemed, he was the size he had been in Astapor. There was no riding him now, instead he curled around her shoulders and neck. His serpentine body and black scales startling against the canyon and harsh sun.
She would have to reflect on the magic of it later and how someone had managed to change her child. The moment the men and women saw Drogon, they crowded around Daenerys eagerly. For the few daring to touch her dragon, she quickly pushed their hands away, sensing Drogon's agitation as his claws dug into her skin. She attempted to communicate with them, not recognizing their language. First in the Old Ghiscari/High Valyrian blend of the Meereenese. Next trying simple High Valyrian. When that didn't work, she hoped and prayed the Commmon Tongue would be understood, but that was much like the rest. The most she tried finding their language, the more the pressed in around her and stared at her with wonder. Finally, in desperation, she tried Dothraki, but that was a lost cause.
So here she was, tattered, burned and dirty, looking more like she crawled from the bowels of the Seven Hells, following a large group of people and relying on their gestures to understand them. It didn't help that as they reached the entrance to their city, others started to flock around her as well. She wasn't feeling nearly as regal or majestic as the people were treating her. The more they crowded in, the more agitated Drogon started to become. She kept her hand on him, but soon he was launching himself from her shoulders, taking to the sky and flying across the Citadel.
"Drogon!"
II. Merchant Square
It's becoming more and more obvious that something was being planned when Daenerys was ushered into the Merchant's Square. The man that repeatedly called himself "Rosso Capello" had stayed with her up until the square. Only then did the merchants take control of her. Some stood on crates or boxes, spouting lofty speeches and stories, that while Dany couldn't understand, recognized as some extoling of virtues. She wasn't exactly a glorious sight, but people still stared in awe at her. There was no real room to escape, and for better or worse, she was relying on the people that found her to take her somewhere safe.
She just didn't expect to become a side show at the same time, no different than the mummers and slave auctions in Essos.
Drogon returned, perching on one of the stalls and staring down with his red eyes, no different than the blood red of his horns and back plates. He was terrifying, but that seemed to please the people. They turned away from Dany towards her dragon, still not looking overly pleased with the attention.
'How long before he retaliates? I need something to hold him, to keep him in check.'
The whip she acquired in Daznak's Pit was gone now, but there were so many stalls and so much merchandise, there had to be a whip somewhere. She touched the shoulders of people, repeating the request again and again. "Please, I need a whip." Only to be met once again with the blank (but mesmerized) stares of the people.
"Please can someone understand me?" She shouted in common tongue.
III. Palace of the Doxe
By the end of it all, Dany is exhausted. There was a grim realization of what was happening when money exchanged hands and she was lead away by...some noble household. The way the merchants responded to them, it was someone influential and of high standing. There was no gold collar, at least. No brand on her face denoting what she was slated for (which thank the Gods didn't seem to be a pleasure house.) It was possible to escape all of this as she had helped the others in Astapor. True, there was no army, but there was Drogon.
Yet...the idea of more charred bones at her feet, chaos in the city and looks of anger made her feel sick to her stomach. Where was she supposed to go? What should she even do? This place was foreign to her and she was starting to realize it wasn't Essos. So, without much objection, she followed to the Palace of the Doxe.
Along the way, a sorceress named Karsa offered her a communication and translation device. It was such a relief that Dany started to cry in gratitude. At least she wouldn't be lost in both language and world. There was information, stories about others who were newcomers to the world, which cleared up how she got here. Knowing there were others also was a comfort, though she didn't ask if they were bought and sold as well. She'd find out soon enough.
Reaching the Palace, Dany took a seat on the marble floor, not responding to any further attempts to move her. They brought her here, but they couldn't make her budge. Not until she was ready and had some energy. There were others, people who appeared a bit out of place compared to the rest.
Hoping they might understand her now, she called over, "Are you a newcomer as well?"
no subject
And he still wasn't sure if he believed it. Whether he was betraying his brothers by not focusing on killing Skywalker before he could escape and do more damage. "So what I care about is this: Did anybody get the chance to leave?"
no subject
She scoffed, "They were my equals. My people are my children and I would do anything to protect them and see them happy. To even be associated with the Masters, the Slavers, you insult me deeply."
no subject
"Great. I don't know you or them. Maybe they knew they had a choice. I didn't have one, when I swore an oath to defend the Republic." He still didn't understand why they even bothered with that. Was it to make them feel guilty if they tried to escape? Because that failed. "I didn't even think to question it when I said it. I'd been raised to fight, all I know how to do is fight, I was going to die fighting. That was it."
He might be ten and a half, but seeing somebody that looked like a cadet calling people her children was just... he didn't know how to handle that. "I'm glad you've got the good sense to be insulted by it. You should be. Just make sure you back it up."
He sighs, glaring up at the palace gates as they approach. "The Jedi told us they were fighting slavery too." Skywalker had tried that line on him. "I worry about this stuff because it all happened to me."
no subject
It still didn't cool the offense he caused.
"So were they. After, they formed loves, lived lives. They could do more than fight. Chains, metaphorical ones, when they are struck, there is a difference and they knew it. I'm a queen, not a slaver."
She gave him a soft smile, feeling the heat in her cheeks ease. "So do I. I was sold by my brother in exchange for an army. I would never subject anyone to that."
no subject
He'd drop it.
And a fat lot of good the Republic had done for all of this. This wouldn't happen so often if they'd cared. "You know why I had to ask, then." That was as close as he could come to an apology at the moment.
"...And your brother sounds like absolute stinking Hutt slime."
no subject
"I know," she answered, touching her neck as though the gold collar would still be there.
Viserys. There was a conflicted expression on her face, still pained by the memory of him and the guilt she felt for his death. "I was all he had left to bargain with." Not that it made it any better, and it was no excuse in her mind, but she understood his thinking to some extent.