[It goes on like this as they find a way out. He shrinks from her, from everyone; he dodges and hesitates. He is determined to carry on, though his jaw is tense and his hand is like enough to shake when there is no sword in it. Eventually, at the threat of separation, he takes a long look at Daenerys’s peeling skeletal arm, then wraps his fingers around it with care, and gives it another brief look of surprise when it doesn’t come off.
They do not go by the door, but another way, and when they’re outside, he releases her arm with a sharp gasp.
Everywhere he looks, everyone is still dead.
And then, after some time, they’re not. The faces passing, they come back together. No rot — as whole as they might ever have been.
He feels the tension begin to leave his shoulders, his breath beginning to slow. And when he looks at Daenerys, she is as whole as anyone else — but mussed as anyone would be.]
You’re you.
[The words of a fool, he knows, a wondering fool, looking at her as if she fell from the sky. There is pain where he was struck, and his feet are weighted with ice.]
/just advances timeline a bit
They do not go by the door, but another way, and when they’re outside, he releases her arm with a sharp gasp.
Everywhere he looks, everyone is still dead.
And then, after some time, they’re not. The faces passing, they come back together. No rot — as whole as they might ever have been.
He feels the tension begin to leave his shoulders, his breath beginning to slow. And when he looks at Daenerys, she is as whole as anyone else — but mussed as anyone would be.]
You’re you.
[The words of a fool, he knows, a wondering fool, looking at her as if she fell from the sky. There is pain where he was struck, and his feet are weighted with ice.]