westwhere | "Darkness reigns at the foot of the lighthouse."

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"Darkness reigns at the foot of the lighthouse."

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?"

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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?"

"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."

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?”

"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?"

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?”

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."

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.

"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."

He shrugs. “I try to deserve people’s trust. But some trust more easily than others.” And I am bastard-born. He doesn’t speak the words, but they are always there when he thinks of what someone might think of him.

The shards of glass glitter as he looks out across the room. Pretty, the way they shimmer, like light on water or light on a blade. Ice in a meadow. Perhaps his sister would like to see it: he’ll consider that later.

“We should find out,” he agrees. “We have little to do but wait until the ship comes. It can’t hurt to fill the time. What have you done so far?”

She's clearly pleased by his acquiescence, as well as willingness to do this by her side. This mirror that was as bright as the moon, she didn't wish to enjoy it alone but share it with a man she respected. Side by side, they could finish it. True, there might be others, but Jon was her choice to bring in, Jon was who she wanted to share this with.

She beckoned him, kneeling on the floor as her hand swept carefully over the corner she assembled. "Only this much. It took much time to find the pieces that fit together. I thought a corner was a better place to start than the middle. It will make it easier to expand on."

She liked the idea of being side by side, working on such a focused project. At the moment, she would have him to herself. Even Drogon had disappeared, likely looking for the only resident, eager for more scraps or trinkets from him. "Sit by me."

He sits, then takes note of what the edge of the glass looks like, the shape of it, then searches the floor with his gaze, looking nearby for something that will match it.

“Are they all stirred up, or have they landed about where you’d expect if a great piece of glass fell?”

"I can't say. I wasn't the one who found it. I think Five may have tried to sort the pieces before I came. If I had seen it, I might know better. It was difficult to put that edge together. The pieces were mixed." She wondered now if Five had found it this way or if, perhaps, he had to search for the pieces.

Somehow in their time together, they had never spoken of it.

It also didn't matter very much. It was the mirror that mattered. "Drogon lead me here."

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?"

“He’s different now?”

On the journey, Drogon had swooped up to the lighthouse and back long before anyone else had reached their destination. But that he had been willing to leave Daenerys much at all had seemed as strange as anything else.

“Might be he wanted you to come here all along.”

As Jon speaks, he peers again at the pieces of the mirror closest to them, then more closely at ones a little further away. It’s becoming clear to him that this has to be done, though he could not say why. And it will not be so hard to do it, not if they put their heads and eyes together.

“Did Five say how he found it?”

"He seems to like this place and the lighthouse keeper. It was his things Drogon brought me." It seemed strange at the time, but now she doesn't think much of it. It was enough that her son was keeping her company again, though he had flown off once more.

He wasn't as possessive as she might have feared.

"Perhaps, but he was more forceful recently with it. He might have known that I would want to see this." She turned another piece, testing it against what she had assembled, but found it too small to fit. Another piece was too jagged and also set aside.

"Five said something about teleporting here." Whatever that meant. "Each time he tried somewhere else, he was brought here. Beyond that, I can't say. It's important, so it was lucky he found it."

“Tele…” He shakes his head, because he doesn’t know the word, but that Five kept being brought back to the shattered mirror is strange. It suggests great importance — that this is a task they must complete. Why did she wait so long to bring me here? They could be so much further along by now if he had not tried to sleep.

“Do you want me to bring you pieces that I think may fit, or do you want me to work just as you do?” His voice is low, hushed, captivated.

Then, “Here.” He points to a shard a few feet away, then reaches for it with care. It will fit against the growing edge of her corner of the mirror.

She shrugged at his attempt to repeat the word. It made little sense to her as well. It was some form of magic, that was all she knew. Perhaps it was like a glass candle or some such thing that Shadowbinders would know? It didn't matter. They were here now and they had the chance to assemble the mirror. It was a stroke of luck and fortune...as well as meant to be.

"If you see ones that will fit, show them to me, but it would go faster if you work as I do." Two heads, both clever, bent over this were surely to accomplish much more. Still, she murmurs a thanks to the piece he pointed out, pressing the shards together.

It was thrilling in a way she couldn't describe. As though she achieved some great feat. Better than winning the throne or peace. "So long as we are not distracted."

A solemn nod, and he pulls away from her, starting with his own shard, then gathering a score more and beginning to turn them this way and that. After a few minutes bent over them, he’s able to connect two of them.

“Not many silvered glasses up in the North. I had a little piece of metal for shaving, up in the Watch. Once I had a steward of my own, he was just a boy… he could not shave me yet. So I kept on doing it myself.

“He’s a good lad, Olly.”

"It doesn't seem you prefer to shave very much." She leaned over and ran her fingers against his beard. Even as Lord Commander, he was not afforded much luxury. She had wondered what the Night's Watch was like in that regard and it seemed they lived on meager supplies.

Was it for honor or because they had so little? In a way, it linked them further. He had to do without, as did she.

"Would you have tolerated someone shaving you?" He seemed more eager to do things himself. "A boy though? That's a pity. He has seen so little of the world and won't see the pleasures of family. It seems you are close to him to trust him as your steward."

“I was. Haven’t seen him since I left Castle Black.”

Why did he leave? His sister had needed him. The North had needed him. Before he could return, they had made him their king.

Hadn’t they?

“Beards want trimming. I trim when I can, when I must.”

He isn’t sure why she has her fingers in his beard now. That’s familiar, forward — but she is a forward woman, so it isn’t a surprise.

But it is a distraction from their task.

She had meant to tease him, but her hand had lingered longer than it should. Flirting was natural with Jon Snow and he was as dour as Quentyn Martell had been, though she had not flirted with the latter. The touch is over not long after and she returns to her task, trying to remember if she ever had a mirror this beautiful before.

"Perhaps he has taken command in your place?" She offered, sensing that he wasn't certain about the boy's fate. It had to be something good though? There was a threat to the North, but that threat hadn't come just yet?

"This mirror reminds me of the ones I had seen in Qarth. Qarth is the greatest city that ever was or ever will be." It had been from there to Meereen for her. For that seemed to be what she remembered...or was there something she was missing? No, it must have been from Qarth to Meereen.

“No, it was Edd who I gave command to.” Of that much, he is sure. “A good man. He pretends to be a sour man to make himself sweeter. That is to say…” Ah, he can place another piece. “That is to say, I trust him.”

He listens to her speaking of Qarth. “So far away. I always wanted to see the rest of the world, but there was no way for me.” But he finds that it isn’t hard to believe that Qarth might be the world’s greatest city, far greater than King’s Landing. He cannot remember why it is that he dislikes King’s Landing, except that the Lannister woman lives there, and she is false. “If I ask my father, when I return, might be that he will give me leave to visit Qarth when we are free of the Dead.”

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"Darkness reigns at the foot of the lighthouse."

Daenerys and Five

Assisting with the Mirror (Recruiting Friends)

The Outcome

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Dany Recruits Jon

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