"Darkness reigns at the foot of the lighthouse."

[thebrideoffire]

WHO: Daenerys, Five, Jon Snow, Mingyu and Lee Chang
WHEN: January to 1/28
WHERE: The Lighthouse (Plot Roll Stuff!)
WHAT: The mirror calls and must be assembled
WARNINGS: Violence, mind control, dragons, talk of death. Anything else will be added.

Drogon's habit of bringing gifts from the lighthouse had increased. It was still only trinkets and tattered bits of clothes, often singed, but something he was clearly proud of. The influence of the lighthouse still seemed to hold him, as he often flew off even as Daenerys called to him. Using a stern voice, showing the whip once in desperation, none of it stopped Drogon from flying to the 10th floor.

What was truly disturbing was that Drogon often seemed to circle around, low to the entrance of the lighthouse, screeching at her, as though demanding she follow him. For several days, Dany resisted, knowing that whatever was in the lighthouse was likely to be some curse or ill omen. Had it not enchanted them into paranoia and greed? No one had been hurt, but actually stepping foot in there might trigger something far worse.

Or she might find something worse.

Much like the House of the Undying, there was a part of her that wanted knowledge. She wished to know what was inside, what magic was fueling it and why it seduced her dragon so easily. That thought, along with the alluring call of something, haunted her dreams. Each time she woke, she had to question if it was dragon dreams or something more?

The fourth day, she followed Drogon, hesitantly crossing the threshold.

The atmosphere was heavy, but still humming with...something. The surroundings weren't very pleasing. There was dust, cobwebs and everything you could imagine in a land that seemed almost dead. Each floor did not improve. There were no visions, no sounds really except some sound of glass in the distance.

Drogon flew ahead, screeching whenever she fell behind. Step by step, stair by stair, she climbed. One floor passed and then two; higher and higher, she followed her dragon as he called to her, luring her ahead with a dark promise. It was an enchantment in itself. A part of her wished to find that last right door, the one in the House of the Undying that lead to the center of it all, where the Undying waited for her. Here, it was less clear what she would find, but there was at least a promise with the Undying.

The scene she found was an odd one. Unnerving, true, but also...rather beautiful.

There was a mirror on the floor or rather the shards of it and Five seated in the middle of it all. Light glistened over the different shapes of glass, some small and some large, all varying in grooves and curves. It was no simple puzzle, but Five seemed intent on assembling it, solving the mystery of it all.

"What is this?"

Comments

Daenerys and Five

[thebrideoffire]

[somebadnews]

The lighthouse is filled with ghosts. Five doesn't need his brother around to point out the distant screams at night, or the way the stairs seem to bleed when he's up late trying to make sense of it all. No one will tell him what happened here, and their host seems barely aware of anything going on around him, which is typical. The more he sees, the more he wonders if this is a test — or if he's just stuck making unwelcome comparisons to his father because he would have treated them the exact same way. Somehow the thought that he's being nostalgic is more disturbing than it being so obviously haunted.

At first Five believed he'd made a miscalculation when he teleported somewhere he didn't mean to be. He can blame it on the fact that he's barely slept and he's had a lot his mind. But every time he blinks away, he comes back to the middle of the same hall of broken mirrors. Instead of being rightfully alarmed that he's somehow drawn to them, he shakes off his confusion and decides that he must have subconsciously wanted to explore this floor anyway.

The mirrors are different here than the ones they saw outside, though he has no idea how he can tell so easily. Breaking them hadn't released whatever magic they were used for. He can feel them when he gets near, and a chill unsettles something deep inside that he thought he was rid of.

Without any real intention, he approaches a pile of shards surrounding a dark silver mirror and sits beside them. They're waiting there, like a puzzle desperate to be whole again. He picks them up, one by one, until slowly the pieces begin to fit together. Once he's managed a large enough area, he sees an image start to emerge. It's not his reflection looking back, but someone else, and he can't tell if they are trapped inside the mirror or spying on him from somewhere far away.

He hears a voice nearby, but doesn't turn his head to see who it is. Never breaking his gaze from those pale blue eyes that continue to stare back at him.

"Who are you?"

[thebrideoffire]

She doesn't think he is talking to her but something else. It was more the mirror that intrigued her. There was beauty in it, as well as some sort of promise, so long as they could assemble it. Without thinking or asking, she knelt beside him, turning some of the pieces in her hand. There was a corner piece, the best place to start. She set it down next to her, searching for another that might fit it.

There was no asking for her to join, rather a simple need. Drogon brought her here, perhaps there is some meaning behind all of this.

"What did you see?" She asked, not stopping to look up at him. "Who were you speaking to?"

[somebadnews]

Five is aware that someone is moving closer, but he only feels a flicker of annoyance that she keeps talking while he's trying to hold his connection with the person in the mirror. He doesn't spare her a glance until he sees her pick up one of the shards, but the moment he turns a shadow swoops in front of him.

He instinctively shields his face as he falls back and the glass blows apart on impact. When he lowers his arms he's still stunned by the audacity of the interruption, and he watches wide-eyed as the flying lizard disappears out of the nearest window. When he looks back at the ground, not one piece remains intact. All of his progress gone.

The woman is still nearby. He remembers noting her before, her and her dragon, and he finally decides to answer her.

"Wish I could tell you." He eyes the shard still in her hand and his mouth stretches into a tight smile. "You could have picked a better way to get my attention."

[thebrideoffire]

"Drogon!" She's shocked by the sudden interruption and that the force of his wings knocked the shard from her hand. She can feel the loss of the work Five had done. It reverberated in her like a mournful cry. Her eyes went from the now disorganized pile and towards the now departing dragon.

This was worse than naughtiness, it was a tragedy.

"This isn't my doing." She feels a bit defensive at that. It was true that she trained Drogon and that she could command him...if that was even the right word. This wasn't what she wished though. This physically hurt her in a way she couldn't explain. The loss of it, the broken pieces of the mirror that seemed emptier. She couldn't stand the sight of it.

Dany knelt, trying to help reassemble the pieces, beginning the long work again.

"Let me help you."

[somebadnews]

He keeps a critical gaze on her after she had called the dragon by name, he's assuming, but any questions he might have about it are forgotten surprisingly quickly. When she turns her attention to the mirror, he's drawn back to where he'd pieced the shards together. All smashed apart again, and the face that appeared to him is long gone.

Mirrors have been plaguing him for months. If he could have just seen who was behind it, he'd finally understand... something.

He heaves a heavy sigh and runs a hand through his hair as his anger subsides. It's hard for him to remember how long it took him to connect the pieces he'd assembled, and it'll go quicker with help. Five doesn't know what brought her here, but at least someone recognizes what's important.

"Fine." He nods to her when he sees her already kneeling. That's all he says, and then he's back at his task, carefully picking up the jagged edges of glass and laying them out to find a match.

[thebrideoffire]

This sort of puzzle fascinated her. It was almost like a silent call, drawing them both to this floor and this project. It seemed better to start at the corner and go from there. There were so many pieces, all of them looking so similar. This will take several nights, but strangely, she does not fear hunger or sleep. She simply wants to be with the mirror.

"How did you find this?" He might be silent, but she wishes to converse. If only to help pass the time as they attempt to put all of these pieces back together. She was also curious what he might have seen, but was there something even there? She saw a flash of blue before Drogon blew it apart.

The dragon had disappeared, having accomplished mischief and eager to find whatever drew him to the lighthouse.

"We might need to bring in others."

[somebadnews]

Five picks up a shard that he thinks matches what he's loosely put together, and he frowns when it doesn't fit where he remembers. Even in his young body, his knees are starting to ache and he shifts to sit with his legs crossed while the woman nearby makes her own assessment.

The impossibility of the task hardly seems to register to him. Compared to what he's overcome, his lifetime of figuring out the math to go back in time and stop the world from ending, this is nothing. No one alive can match his determination once he's clear on what needs to be done. It doesn't matter how many pieces it's in, or how long it might take, he can make it whole again.

"It brought me here," he remarks offhandedly at her question, like that answer isn't extremely disturbing. Ordinarily he might have kept quiet, but in this instance it seems like an anecdote that proves how important this is. "I felt it, and whenever I tried to blink away I came back to it. Obviously whoever is behind it is trying to show me something."

No explanation on what he means by 'blink', but he assumes everyone should know what he does by now. Then she makes some remark about bringing in others. He doesn't feel like leaving to call for anyone to join them. Then again, he is more eager to get the mirror together than he is to keep it a secret, so he eventually concedes with a nod.

"It might go faster."

Assisting with the Mirror (Recruiting Friends)

[thebrideoffire]

Dany Recruits Jon

[thebrideoffire]

"I want to show you something." It was whispered to Jon, shortly after she had stirred him awake in the camp. Not many others were up, she had waited until it was late enough for them not to be followed. She hadn't bothered to sleep, too enamored with the task before her.

Somewhere in that song of desire, she had wondered if she should share it with someone and the only someone she could think about such things with was Jon Snow. She was too consumed to think why, only that he was diligent and meticulous enough to help with the puzzle, but perhaps in need of some joy. What else did this mirror bring her but that? The more she put the pieces together, the more whole she became. It was as if she was rebuilding herself, as well as mounting this mystery that became more tangible as time went on.

It was a plaintive note she wished to hear more of, but also share with a man that equally intrigued her.

"Come with me."

[northerndragon]

At first, he is not especially pleased that someone is waking him. It has been a difficult journey, and while he would not say that he thinks they are safe, they have found shelter, a time and a place where they can rest. He would like to be able to take some rest.

It is Daenerys waking him, though, and he finds… he finds that he both likes her well enough, and he wishes to keep her happy for the sake of the North. That’s all it is: his homeland depends on her aid, which she seems inclined to offer. So he fixes her with a sleepy look and says, all hoarse, “What is it?”

[thebrideoffire]

"It's a secret." She pressed a finger to his lips before tapping her own with the tip. When she was certain he wasn't going to go back to sleep, she got to her feet, smoothing down her suit as though it was a fine silk tokkar. This was the most serene she had felt in some time. No longer an outsider, a slave or wandering child. She felt calm, beautiful and truly sane.

She beckoned him to follow her towards the lighthouse. Drogon was circling above, swooping lazily about in circles. Finally, with something between a screech and a squawk, he dove back into the 10th story where Dany knew he was waiting for her.

Her hand reach back for his, leading him onwards. It would be a bit of a long climb, it was nothing more than either of them had experienced before. He would see dust, cobwebs and decay around them, nothing remarkable. They were the ghosts of the lighthouse, but he might sense what she did. Something calling for them in the distance.

It was only when they were at the door where he could peer in at the shards that she let go. "Isn't it beautiful?"

[northerndragon]

It feels like a dream. He does not resist when she touches his mouth. He climbs out of the sleeping sack, rubs his eyes, presses the lids together. He takes a moment to slip his feet into his boots. He lets her take him by the hand and lead him, not awake enough to question the strangeness of it.

Perhaps it is a dream. It is not the first time she has touched him in a dream, of late.

He follows her, mute, wondering what it is she wants him to see, and when they reach the space, he turns his head to look at her.

“It’s a lot of broken glass.” It makes him think a little of Winterfell — of how much glass had been broken there when it was taken, and of how he wants to continue to set it right. “What was it?”

[thebrideoffire]

She feels comfortable like this, close in proximity to him and sharing something sweet and beautiful, close to her heart. His reaction is one she hadn't expected, but didn't it take a little for her to understand the wonder of these shards and how it felt to put them together?

"It's a mirror." Five wasn't here at the moment, meaning they had it all to themselves. For now, at least. She moved slowly back to the pieces she had assembled, forming a perfect corner that glittered from the edges that fit together. "We have been working to repair it, but the task is a long one and perhaps something we should share."

She turned to look back at him with warmth. "With someone we trust."

[northerndragon]

He stands in the doorway, still blinking at the shards of glass scattered everywhere, but when he catches her smiling at him, he does his level best to smile back at her. It’s a sleepy smile, but it’s real.

“And you trust me?”

It’s flattering, perhaps, in its strange way. They have not known each other long. Two moons, if he has to guess, or thereabouts. Long enough to begin to trust someone, he supposes, but he is not sure how easily she trusts.

“What happens once it’s repaired?” He can’t imagine there is any way the mirror will ever be whole again - only that it might have its parts where they should be.

[thebrideoffire]

"Of course," she looks back at him over her shoulder. "Should I not?" Perhaps it hadn't been long enough to know him, and perhaps it was her folly to believe the best in some men, but she did trust him. He had shown himself to be caring, protective and honorable. He possessed qualities that she had always liked in a man. If there was something deceitful in his character, it surely would have surfaced by now.

There was the painful reminder of Ser Jorah and how lies could remain hidden, but Jon Snow was nothing like Ser Jorah. He was never possessive, he never viewed her as a child, and he had seemingly believed in her, enough not to think she was like her father.

"I can't say." She wished to know. There was something calling and it was likely what had her so confused as they approached. Now there might be answers. More than that, she was simply entranced and wished to put it together again. "We should find out."

open to Mingyu/Lee Chang

[somebadnews]

The hours spent on the floor of that hall elapses without notice until the light starts to dim. The mirror and whatever it holds has begun to take shape, but when even Five's young eyes strain to connect the pieces in the dark, his frustration eventually wins out.

He gets up abruptly and without acknowledgement to anyone around him. Stepping away from a task only partially done takes effort, and he's eager to return once he solves the little problem of light. It's only when he stretches and dusts himself off that he notices how his hands are covered in dozens of small cuts from meticulously lining up shards of glass. He frowns and wipes them off on his pant leg as he leaves — on foot, to keep from being drawn back here before he's finished.

Not long after he starts his search for a candelabra that he can easily reach without jumping, he spots someone else passing by. He stares for a while, like he's suddenly trying to place where he's seen him, but he eventually makes the connection. It's these dark stairwells. He doesn't need the help, but if he has it, he'll be able to get back to work sooner.

"You." He knows his name, he just chooses to be direct in the interest of saving time. "We need more light. Grab some candles and follow me."

The Outcome

[thebrideoffire]

WELP.

[northerndragon]

He had not been expecting to find himself here again.

When he thought of anything but the fear, the pain, the idea that he might soon cease to exist, that something else would take his skin and bones and walk around in them, he had thought mostly of his failure. He should never have touched the mirror. He should have tried to keep anyone else from touching it. It had been in pieces for a reason.

He would be able to do nothing for his sister. He would be able to do nothing for the North. Nothing for the people of this world, either, but hurt or dying, he did not think of people he didn’t know, only of the ones close and dear, living or dead. He had marched into Mance’s camp once knowing that it might end in torture and a slow death, and it had seemed all right then, with so little left to live for. The last few days, he has had a lot to live for. There was no choice in giving in; he had chosen to fight.

The floor feels strange against his back after so many days of nothing except shards of glass pressing at the soles of his feet. There had been a cry, maybe — the beat of a wing. A burst of light in so much darkness. He raises his hand to cover his eyes.

Something is wrong with his back, he knows. Maybe it is cut by all the broken glass on the floor. He cannot yet sit up, but he takes a great gulp of air.

He is not alone, and he does not want to be alone — but the things that had been with him every moment of these last days, that had denied him even rest and sleep, are gone.

He prays to every nameless god he knows that they are gone for good.

[thebrideoffire]

The euphoria of completing the mirror as much of possible was snuffed quickly. The moment the hands shot out and gripped Jon's neck, her heart stopped. Just for a moment, she hesitated out of fear, something she would regret for days to come. When her feet finally moved, he was suddenly dragged into the glass. Her hand shot out, trying to catch him, but he slipped from her grasp. Her heart, still stopped, plummeted into her stomach.

She was sick, dizzy, feeling the breath disappear from her lungs. "No!" The only word she managed to shout before she could hear Drogon's screech, a sharp cry of fury and pain. She had heard it before in the House of the Undying. While she struggled to to move, to feel anything beyond horror and hysteria, her dragon had come to free her. The invisible chains, the final grasp of the mirror, and her desperation to find Jon.

Black and red scales appeared in the air, shooting out a dark flame. He took matters into his own hand, melting the glass into silver drops. The heat of his fire seared against her skin, but she didn't move, couldn't move. Not until suddenly, Jon was thrown back and in the room again. She gasped, finally coming up for air.

Dany darted forward, grasping hold of him, enfolding him in her arms. No tears. She was careful not to cry. She was the Blood of the Dragon and couldn't show fear, not when her son was currently destroying whatever evil they had found.

"Jon!" Her voice was strained with emotion, even as she tried to get ahold of herself. The girl was in control, not the queen. "Gods, you were gone! You were taken! Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

[northerndragon]

Anything is brighter than the deep darkness, so his eyes are still not used to the light. He still holds them closed and tries to cover them. He is pulled from his place on the floor into someone’s lap, and someone is talking to him, asking after him. Slender arms, not too strong, and a woman’s voice. Daenerys.

His shoulders ache where they press against her knees and thighs.

“Think I am. Hurt. My back.”

His shirt, one of the ones Sansa had made for him in Taravast, is soaked with lines of blood and sticking to his back. He has not been wearing anything over it. A brigandine and gorget had interfered with his work on the mirror, so he had left them off, and the gambeson, too.

The thing would have torn at him whether he had been wearing them or not. He doesn’t know where this certainty comes from, but he is certain.

[thebrideoffire]

She doesn't want to move him, even to see the injuries on her back. Part of her worried about what could happen if she jostled him. Would he pass out? Faint? All of this rattled her. Her fingers ran through his hair, internally debating about what to do. She was trembling, her hands couldn't stop shaking.

"I need to lift you to look. Do you think you can stay awake while I do that?" Without thinking, she pressed a kiss to his temple, if only to impart some strength to him. If she could offer anything, let it at least be that. He needed it, given the state he was in.

"Jon, hold onto me. Stay with me."

Don't leave me, she meant to say.

[northerndragon]

Did she just kiss him? Only two women ever have, and in truth, one of them was his little sister. But he has not been back in the world long, and he can’t think on it.

“I’ll stay awake. Don’t think I could sleep. It bloody hurts.”

It had been like Orell’s eagle, only it had not been his face, and it had been that tearing moment, ceaseless, for days.

“Something clawing at me, in there, down there. Trying to get in.”

Already, the deep scratches in his back are beginning to feel a little better, or it might be that he doesn’t know how to be comforted.

[thebrideoffire]

"In the mirror?" She hadn't even thought to ask him about what he saw or experienced. Instead, her focus had been on his return, keeping him close and making certain that he wasn't pulled back again. There was no room for anything else in her mind. Not even the mirror.

She lifted him carefully, trying to ease him up slowly, stopping anytime he might make a noise. But when she saw his back, it didn't seem nearly as bad as she feared. Everything looked to be healing. The amount of blood on his shirt seemed to indicate that it had been worse, but looking at the wounds, they were closing up.

"You are healing rapidly," there was surprise in her voice. "Does it still hurt?"

[northerndragon]

The only thing that keeps him from lifting up as easily as he might is that his eyes are still covered. He struggles to show her his back.

It’s when she says that his wounds are healing that he makes a crack between his fingers, so the light can get in.

“Aye. Still hurts.”

But perhaps not as much as it had before she looked at it.

“How long?”

He does not know when he lost his sense of time, how long it had taken, but he would be as unsurprised to hear that it had been three weeks as three days.