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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
When Zuko returned, she was anxious and straining to bring Drogon to heel. She barely had time to flash a smile at Zuko and thank him before hurrying to where her dragon was diving again. She struck up into the air, catching him in the belly. He shrieked in surprise, smoke coming from his nose. But he flew back, away from the horse.
Once was enough, thank the gods. He remembered her efforts in Daznak's Pit. Still, he didn't come down onto her shoulders. This would be his petulant retaliation. "Thank you," she turned back to Zuko. "I wouldn't want anyone to be hurt by him. He was more aggressive when he was this size before."
no subject
When the dragon seemed to be subdued from a single strike he looked relieved, glancing between the girl and her creature, as wonder and confusion played over his face. Her thanking him seemed to bring him out of that momentary daze, making him step back and shake his head.
"It's," he faltered before narrowing his eyes at her. "Who are you and why do you have a dragon?" Had he been less perplexed the question might have sounded demanding, but how mystified was obvious, and took much of the heat out of his delivery.
no subject
It was a strange question he asked her, perhaps one that she should have anticipated. In Westeros, the question was as simple as her name, but that might not mean very much here. However she was being treated by the people, it was for her dragon and not for herself.
Still, the way he asked and the awkwardness of this entire situation has her laughing a bit in bemusement. It was better than letting the frustration, fear and worry bubble up until she broke. She let it out in another manner. She flashed an apologetic smile. "I have a dragon because he hatched from the flames." Not exactly, but that wasn't a story to share with a stranger. "My family have the Blood of the Dragon. Having a dragon as my companion, it would be suitable, don't you think?"
no subject
"I'm sorry, I - I didn't know."
Didn't know what? Why did he just respond like she told him she had inherited the dragon from a deceased and dearly beloved relative? What was he saying?
Zuko froze like a deer in the headlights for a second too long to be played off, and shook his head. "Are you going to the Doxe's palace? I can help you get there safely."
no subject
For a moment, she wondered if she scared him away, but he seemed to quickly regain composure. "I don't know." She glanced over his shoulder, seeing the merchants not far. They were keeping her in their sight, even as they continued to spread stories to whoever crossed their path. She knew that look and understood the intention.
"Is that where I should go?" Anywhere was better than being in captivity.
no subject
"Are you from this place?" This world? He didn't know how to ask this question tactfully. They were supposed to be living undercover here and Zuko didn't want to risk exposing himself, and the rest of his group, but he couldn't in good conscience let another outsider like they all were flounder.
He was already leading her away from the market, his focus moving from her to her dragon and back again as his mind works a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he's supposed to do. "Have you met Karsa?" Meeting the sorceress that traveled with the party was one of his first memories in this world, she had gotten him orientated - as well as anyone could be in this weird world - maybe that was a good place to begin.
no subject
She can gather at least he means more by that question than if she was a local. That should have been rather obvious, given her lack of skill with the language and the way the people were behaving around her. She turned her head to study him, trying to gauge his meaning overall.
"I haven't heard the name before." She glanced back at the merchants, still grumbling and still following her. "I met the refugees in the canyon and they brought me here. I can't understand them, so I don't know if there is a Karsa among them or what they mean to do."