BITCHFIELD [grossover] |
Привет, Гость! Войдите или зарегистрируйтесь.
Вы здесь » BITCHFIELD [grossover] » Прожитое » to serve you
LIFE IS VERY EASY WHEN YOU LIVE TO LOVE AND SERVE
and jorah does both.
[icon]https://funkyimg.com/i/34YNZ.png[/icon][nick]Jorah Mormont[/nick][char]джорах мормонт[/char][lz]i could iron out the edges of the sky but for some of us it ain't enough[/lz][fandom]a song of ice and fire[/fandom][status]unconditionally[/status]
Отредактировано Robb Stark (2020-05-17 22:25:43)
[icon]https://funkyimg.com/i/34YNY.png[/icon]
And besides, what’s another bruise?
What’s a bruise? What’s a bruise? What’s a blue moon bruise to do but pull young blood to and fro like the tide?
What’s a bruise but a testament to the sharp art of surrendering to time and place?
we’ll have time for grief.
we’ll have time for grief when my people will be warm and content.
we’ll have time for grief when my sons, my dragons will be safe.
we’ll have time for grief.
just not now.
maybe when she’s old. maybe when she’s a queen.
she is a queen.
a khaleesi.
maybe when she’s old, and the world’s at peace, and she’s home. wherever the home is.
home is people. she’s been told.
then why is she always surrounded by traitors?
she’ll grieve. of course, she’ll grieve. her glorious husband, riding somewhere in the sky now with the stars as his khalasar. her son, the stallion who mounts the world. along with his father. somewhere. somewhere really far away. if daenerys listens hard enough. she would hear. oh, she would. her atomic family, her beautiful brothers, both frightened, both distant. how she could love them. if ever given a chance. her madman of a father, her victim of a mother.
oh. how she would grieve them one day.
but first. first she’ll avenge them.
first she’ll take what’s hers by right.
‘i’m the blood of dragon.’ daenerys tells herself. ‘and i will bow to no one’
it’s easier being her.
homeless.
crownless.
with no one to lose.
- ser jorah,
she’s spotting him, jorah’s always there somewhere. close enough. never too close.
daenerys has made a point of that.
never too close.
and she finds it pretty odd, gods, it’s just insane, but in this ancient enormous word, there are still lost cities, and there are still dragons. and there is still life. and absolutely no time. for love, for sympathy, for compassion.
daenerys was a tame, quiet girl.
that girl burnt to ashes along with her sun and stars.
that girl left a long time ago, giving space to drogo’s queen.
that girl’s no longer there.
so.
who is she?
nothing tame about her.
she raised from ashes, bared her teeth. she snarled.
mother of monsters. is she any better than them?
- ser jorah, - daenerys nods to a place near her, - take a sit.
she’s feeling lonely those days.
she’s feeling lost.
and daenerys has no idea where she’s going.
but i hope, oh, i hope i’m coming home.
those people. my people. they follow me. the responsibility’s mine. and the throne’s mine to take over.
- ser jorah, - he’s no ser, her knight, he’s not even a knight.
she’ll make one of him.
as a queen.
- i never had an opportunity to thank you. for what you did for me back there. i don’t remember much.
pain, pain, pain. pain.
blood, blood, blood, bath of blood, drogo’s blood, his stallion’s blood, her own blood.
and rhaego didn’t scream, gods, he didn’t scream. why wasn’t he screaming?
the shadows screamed instead.
they are still screaming.
if you’re pressing an ear to daenerys’ stomach.
the shadows screaming. the void calling. only death. there’s no life left in her.
rhaegal’s curling around her left arm, viserion’s on her shoulder, drogon’s fast asleep on her laps.
the only life left for her.
monster’s life.
daenerys smirks to herself.
i can work with it.
sure thing.
i can.
- i don’t remember much, - she repeats, - but i remember you. and if i know something, it’s that i’d be dead along with my family. if not for you. thank you.
she’s dead at certain point. too far gone.
gods, it’s easier this way.
the death is calm. soft almost.
she lulled her boys to sleep. her sun and stars. her baby son.
there’s no life left for her.
- some of them think it’s my fault. i’ve brought the undefeated khal down. that’s why they left. what do you think, ser jorah? be honest with me.
be wise.
i can take anything but another betrayal.
monster girl and her monster babies. it seems like we’re always coming for blood whether we want it or not.
TOO MANY BROKEN HEARTS HAVE FALLEN IN THE RIVER
TOO MANY LONELY SOULS HAVE DRIFTED OUT TO SEA
YOU LAY YOUR BETS AND THEN YOU PAY THE PRICE
jorah can tell.
by the absence in her face, by the shadow visiting her violet eyes. they look like the sky before thunderstorm now. and jorah knows, the storm is coming.
she herself is the storm.
she looked humble and fragile when he first met her. but ever since he's known her, power, strength and dignity was all she portrayed.
jorah doesn't have to tilt his head to plunge into the sky. he finds everything in daenerys's eyes.
but all he can do is to watch and adore. he has no place there. on that sky there's only place for the sun and stars of her life.
jorah can tell she's remembering her beloved husband.
there's no place for grief left - she hasn't left any herself.
everything jorah can do for her is to let her sink in memories for a moment. even though it is not a reunion with her khal, not the one she'd wanted.
daenerys is young and harsh on herself. she is hot and reckless, and she's ready to suffer.
jorah's lived longer and he knows that not only magic can raise from the dead. memory can do greater things. remembering too means bringing to life someone who's already been gone.
who would've though a girl her age would go that far? owning nothing, loosing everything she's had and even more. who would've though she'd fight and strive?
(jorah did. he always did)
jorah is old and tired and doesn't know much. he hasn't known much happiness in his life, that's for sure. would it sound naive if he said that everything changed when he pleged to this gitl with eyes of thunderstorm and a heart of dragon?
jorah doesn't know much, and he doesn't know much about love either.
sometimes lynesse visits him in his tumultuous dreams.
she is still young and stunning, just as she was on the first day he saw her. she sits down onto his bed, gently strokes his forehead and combs out tangles in his hair.
she is still young and beautiful, and he? he grew old, his head is now washd with silver. and his hands - covered in blood and dirt.
he did everything for her, things that noone can ever do. he did that - everything for her.
all the things we do for love.
lynesse never talkes. it's always him—mumbling, whispering in the emotional heat.
all the things we do for love. did he regret any of them?
will he regret anything he does for daenerys targaryen?
—all the things we do for love.
her voice is the jingle-jangle of little silver bells in this empty, deserted city. at some point everything starts to slip away into the darkness. there's nothing around them, noone. at least jorah feels like they're alone. shadows disapper—shadows of her past, those of his. dothraki disapper, horses, insects disapper.
everything vanished, frightened away by the silver jingle-jangle of her voice. khaleesi's voice.
"there's nothing wrong in not remembering", he finally says. it takes time. to count his own memories, to find the right words.
the only right words that come to him are
i will do everything for you, khaleesi. everything you can't. i'll do for you. everything you can't carry, i'll carry for you. all the steps you can't make—i will take you into my arms and i will make these steps for you. |
but instead he says:
"there's nothing wrong in not remembering, khaleesi. especially in forgetting troubles. they tend to turn into ghosts and follow you to death. don't let them. forgetting is blessing. try to remember those who matter"
"if not for you", she says. if not for him. what would've happened if not for him? how many people would still have their homes, their lives untouched. how many tears would not be sheded, how much blood would not be spilled.
if not for him.
what would happen to her, if not for him?
khaleesi, targaryen, stormborn, surviver, fighter, mother of dragons.
a woman of thousand names, a woman with unique destiny.
if not for him, then for some other knight.
(though jorah is grateful, that it was him—that it is him)
"you mustn't thank me, khaleesi", jorah says.
her gratitude is bittersweet. it's beautiful, it's frank, it's deep. and nothing he deserved.
daenerys targaryen thanks him.
who is he to not accept her gratitude? he is her loyal servant, that's what he is and he wants to remain.
he needs to thinks everything through—so he's silent before he starts speaking.
"some will always accuse you, and these some will pick the worst sins to accuse you of. you shall not listen"
she shall not listen.
and jorah will coerce them into silence.
"love cannot hurt, love cannot murder. and you do love him, khaleesi. and he loved you. it's fear and jealosy and hollowness and passion that can bring one down. not love. and there was nothing but love between you and drogo, you must know that way better than i do"
it's jealosy and fear and saddness that can hurt.
jorah spits them out, jorah cuts them out.
devotion and loyalty is all he can—all he must give her.
[indent] (the things we do for love)
[nick]Jorah Mormont[/nick][status]unconditionally[/status][icon]https://funkyimg.com/i/34YNZ.png[/icon][fandom]a song of ice and fire[/fandom][char]джорах мормонт[/char][lz]i could iron out the edges of the sky but for some of us it ain't enough[/lz]
There isn’t a day I don’t ask myself, “Is this the day
I want to go to that place,” the wreckage I call home.
where are you going with it, girl?
i’m no girl.
not anymore at least.
where are you leading those people. they’re starving and they’re miserable. they are tired.
let them rest.
i will. we will rest. and then we will rise. and then we will mount over the whole world.
shierak qiya, the bleeding star, was for me.
the bleeding star was me.
daenerys is doing her best. and it’s an upgrade from ‘doing nothing’, it seems.
daenerys pays attention.
- so you say this is a blessing? me, not remembering things.
me, doing one of the biggest mistakes in my life.
you always trust the wrong people.
you always make the wrong choices. for all the right reason.
daenerys shakes her head slowly.
if my choices were wrong, if i was wrong, we wouldn’t come this far.
and she still finds it kind of funny, she still finds it kind of sad.
westeros is full of those enormous buildings, viserys told her plenty about them. their roofs piercing the sky. tall monsters made of iron and glass.
and here she is. sitting in the middle of a long lost city, abandoned by all the gods.
not by her. not by daenerys.
queen of the lost city.
queen of desolation.
khaleesi vosi, queen of nothing.
where are you going from here?
forward, it seems. always forward.
so she marched from her sun and stars pyre.
and never looked back.
only in her dreams, daenerys still sees those flames. drogo is not there. drogo is not coming to her. and she has this terrible feeling, choking her to death in her dream.
he hasn’t forgiven her. why should he, really?
she took his life. and she lost his soul. and she remembers, oh, she remembers his life slipping through her clumsy fingers. going all the way to the dothraki sea.
- we need to remember those things, ser jorah, i believe we need to remember those. in order not to fall into the same trap.
she never smiled again.
- then again. the stakes are higher now. i’ll pay attention.
she remembers the witch crying as the fire licked off her flesh to the bones. erasing whatever evil she portrayed.
daenerys was silent.
she chuckles softly, ‘you mustn’t thank me’, - ser jorah, the queen will do as she pleases. so deal with my gratitude. it’s just words for now. i don’t have much to offer anyway.
she closes her eyes for a moment, viserys once told her that a good captain is never asleep. he changed it to a “good king” is never asleep after she said she wanted to be a pirate. he twisted her hair until she couldn’t even weep.
viserys was never cruel. this was not viserys. viserys was lost. along with their glory, their jewels, whatever glimpses of memories they have left.
daenerys listens, and pays attention.
- if i don’t listen to them, whom should i listen to? – she shrugs, now facing him, ser jorah seemed so old to her, she never quite managed to wrap her mind around it. it was always viserys. it was always the young and bitter viserys. and now she’s older than viserys. and somehow. somehow she’s older than ser jorah, - a good queen, i believe, shouldn’t stay numb to her people’s words. even if they hurt.
jorah talks about love in the way only those who knew love could talk. jorah talks about love in the way they write about in books.
daenerys set herself on fire one more time. with feeling.
she’s getting used to it by now.
he says ‘drogo’ as if. as if.
drogo – cutthroat, drogo killshot, drogo bloodbath, drogo point-blank range.
and gods, all the seven or the great stallion. she doesn’t care.
how he smiled at her sometimes.
sometimes she wished she didn't remember the way he smiled at her.
it felt like she never knew warmth before him.
she sets herself on fire.
drogo, her sun and stars.
she can’t breathe, can’t think, fuck, she can’t.
- love. love is not enough, ser jorah. love is never enough, ser jorah. love kills.
daenerys takes a deep breath in.
breath out.
- viserys once told me: you just can’t help it, you fall in love with everyone who’s mildly nice to you. he added a few obscene remarks about the size of his dick, though. it was his rage speaking. but drogo. drogo wasn’t nice. drogo was honest. drogo was nothing but himself.
daenerys lifts her chin.
she smiles. it’s a crack on her face, a crack inside her dragon’s heart.
- i will not be nice, ser jorah. there’s no such thing as ‘nice’, all the nice girls go to pyre. who came back then?
she keep smiling. the saint, the madwoman, the mother of monsters, the widow of the sun.
- will you stay by my side when i’m not nice anymore?
drogo and i,
we were just like a killshot.
like having a throat cut.
fast.
and furious.
he taught me well, right?
[icon]https://funkyimg.com/i/34YNY.png[/icon]
can anything be enough?
"love is never enough", she says.
no, of course not.
how can love be enough if there are dedication and trust, allegiance and loyalty, tenderness and unity.
and all the other things jorah would want to give her, if only it was in his power.
no, for one love can never be enough. can anything, though?
people are greedy and their greed is just like river in spring. which means it knows no banks.
jorah himself is a very greedy man, so. he knows.
viserys was an evil man with no honor. he thought daenerys was his property and jorah was digusted to serve him. no man may treat daenerys like that.
viserys was an empty husk, trying to elliminate those who are greater than him in order to become a whole himself. he ended up just as he lived. an empty husk on the dirty floor. covered in gold at last, just as he dreamed. and jorah was glad to see his end.
"i know we shouldn't talk badly about those who are dead. but allow me to disagree with your brother, khaleesi. you fall in love with those who deserve your love".
however it be, you haven't fallen in love with me.
and you never will.
he wouldn't say anything like that to her.
jorah is very careful with what he tells her.
he remembers quite well that she is his queen to whom he pleged his weapon and his life. he would've pleged his heart to her too, if she'd only taken it.
jorah is very careful with what he tells others too. he must give away as much information as he can without harming her too much.
viserys was an evil man, but in the end of the day, is jorah any better?
THEN HE MADE ONE LAST EFFORT
to search in his heart for the place where
HIS AFFECTION HAD ROTTEN AWAY
and he could not find it.
he looks at her, hopeless to withdraw his eyes.
what one can see in her other than a young girl? some would consider her a child. many people who've never actually met her make this mistake. jorah knows these people himself, and he prays to all the gods, the new and the old, that they will delude themselves as long as it takes daenerys to come and knock on their doors. and show what she really is.
these don't know the real daenerys targaryen.
jorah, on the other hand.
jorah likes to delude himself and tell himself pretty lies that he knows her.
he looks at his queen and sees a dragon with a golden heart. the one who is gentle and tender while also fair and unswayed. he sees her burn. and he is greatful with all his heart for letting him warm by this fire.
the great grass sea lays behind their backs, dimpled with red waves.
waves of blood, marking her path. marking his path as well.
blood of my blood—he remembers saying—he wants to take all the blood that will ever be on her hands, take it away.
she isn't going to be nice. nice are those, who are fearful.
"nice are those, who are fearful", he finds himself say. "you are not fearful, and you are not nice. but you are merciful and generous. you are a dragon, khaleesi, dragons aren't nice".
IT'S ENOUGH FOR ME TO BE SURE THAT YOU AND I EXIST AT THIS MOMENT
"and i will always be by your side, khaleesi, no matter what. as long as you'll want to have me"
[indent] (and maybe even afterwards.)
can anything be enough?
jorah doesn't know. jorah knows nothing. not how to be a good servant, not how to be a good husband. not how to be a good man either.
he's not in the position where he can ask, but at least he takes everything he's given.
daenerys gives him a look, and jorah takes it.
daenerys gives him him her gratitude, and he takes it as well.
if only he was a good man, he wouldn't take it, he would refuse, step back, walk away and never, ever come near daenerys targaryen.
but jorah is anything but a good and noble man, and all he wants, all he desires today and tonight and in all the other days and all the other nights is her makig good use of him.
her words are already more than he might ask for.
"if you'd only seen, khaleesi, what i see. this world doesn't deserve you. not me, not the people, noone here. you are yer jalan atthirari anni for all of us. maybe drogo was the first one to see it in you"
jorah thinks, no. it wasn't drogo.
it was him.
it was him who first saw and loved daenerys targaryen.
but jorah has no right, so
he remains silent.
[nick]Jorah Mormont[/nick][status]unconditionally[/status][icon]https://funkyimg.com/i/34YNZ.png[/icon][fandom]a song of ice and fire[/fandom][char]джорах мормонт[/char][lz]i could iron out the edges of the sky but for some of us it ain't enough[/lz]
Отредактировано Robb Stark (2020-05-22 01:01:31)
It wouldn’t be seemly to you, to skitter beneath crepe paper streamers,
the devil roiling with his blood hounds.
I am cast out, no more tabernacle. Thank you, but
I am never coming back.
they thought she’s gonna crack. this poor girl, this innocent lamb. oh, she’s gonna crack. this precious skull, those lovely bones.
she’s gonna crack. it's gonna be loud. and they're gonna be sorry for her.
this is not what happened exactly.
she’s untouched. unburnt. unbroken.
and sometimes. oh. sometimes she thinks she showed them mercy.
and the last time she cried herself to sleep was a long time ago.
in another life. where she was just a stupid kitten.
no more no less.
_
you were not a kitten, girl.
if you think so, you don’t really pay attention.
maybe she just didn’t have enough time to grow up properly.
in reality, she didn’t have enough time to be a child.
she’s now looking at jorah, she’s serious. she’s calm.
until she’s not. she’s quick to ask.
- do you think viserys was a bad man?
but you don’t know him like i did. she’s not going to look for excuses.
- he was just a boy. a scared broken boy. i was scared too, but he. he was responsible for his own fear, for my fear and this probably was too much for him. he remembered mother. and he remembered home.
and viserys would never tolerate it. men do not tolerate. do not bear anything. it’s women who endure.
he would never be reborn as a dragon.
- i hope he’s at peace.
my son and stars crowned him with gold. but this was not my brother. i lost viserys on the day he sold that crown.
i miss him like i miss home. like i miss the childhood. like i miss all the things we never had.
- it’s funny how i see him in my dreams sometimes, ser jorah. and he’s not the man we’ve seen.
daenerys is restless at night.
she keeps dreaming of the dead.
and she keeps waking up alone.
and her khal never visited her. not even once.
daenerys does terrible things. but she does them perfectly.
- you’ve lost things too, right? of course you did. but you’ve got your purpose. love wasn’t enough. is this enough?
i believe it is.
daenerys takes a look at her dragons, she’s giving away this little laugh, she thought she forgot how to do it, - the world doesn’t know anything about dragons as it turned out. they thought our blood got weak, - she nods at her sons, they are the only ones she’ll ever have.
monstrosity is only born from monstrosity. she finds them magnificent.
- but this. this is not weak. this is us. being reborn. all of us.
i’m gonna be the monstrosity.
the monster girl, she’s touching his hand gently. and his skin is dry, and only now she realizes how tired he really is.
he was tired long before he met her. her knight.
- thank you, - she says, and she says it like she means it, - i’ll remember this.
daenerys is trying really hard not to be bitter about it. or anything.
- the first thing drogo taught me was how to say no. to people. even to him.
and i’ll forever be grateful to him.
daenerys remembers their first night and the only word he knew in her language was “no”.
daenerys never knew, never dared, honestly, to say no to anyone.
viserys, all those people. she was this tame silent kind of girl.
he taught her just that. her “no” meant “no” to him. and therefore to everyone.
this still means the world to me.
- and we can’t tell now what exactly he saw in me. he’s not here to tell us.
those things were slow and animalistic, and pagan and she liked them that way.
viserys tried to scare her by the threats of the dragon's awakening.
her poor brother had no idea.
now the dragon’s fully awaken.
- maybe i’m exactly what this world deserves, ser jorah, the one who brings monsters back to the world. maybe this will remind them about humanity, huh? – she doesn’t believe it. not when she looks at the dragons, they are hot, they are quick to act, but they are pure. they don’t know betrayal. they don’t know lies. purity only. they are pure in a way she can’t be anymore. she can’t wash it off her, the blood, the terror, the magic and the loss.
she looks young and she looks ancient and he. oh. he was here. all the time.
- haven’t you seen me, though?
she’s curious, she was born curious. she was curious about everything. scared, fearful, lost and homeless, still she was curious. she always asked exactly those kind of questions she wasn’t supposed to ask.
maybe it’s exactly what the world deserves.
she used to be his moon. she used to shine in his shadow.
now he’s no longer here. and she’s the bleeding star. her own bleeding star. the warning, the sign and the wonder.
it could be ominous. it could be beautiful.
she repeats quietly.
- haven’t you seen me?
[icon]https://funkyimg.com/i/34YNY.png[/icon]
Отредактировано Daenerys Targaryen (2020-05-25 15:11:02)
how could i ever know you?
when everything lies in disguise
the whisper always comes out louder in the silence.
the light always comes brighter in the darkness.
miracles are the most mind-blowing if they happen in the world where people have long forgotten what it feels like to witness a miracle.
the most devoted bigots are found among the gentiles.
daenerys targaryen is all in one - the light, the whisper, the miracle, the one to believe in.
jorah doesn't only see her, he looks at her, he watches her.
"haven't you seen me?" she asks.
hasn't he seen her?
"i've seen you looking at my little sister", he hears viserys say as if he were standing right behind him. jorah fights the urge to turn around and check if he can find the elder silver-headed targaryen there. he doesn't, however, he knows, that the dead don't wake up, the dead don't walk. they can speak from the past, though, and the time - such a funny thing it is - would bring their words. make us believe the dead are right behind our backs. whispering "i've seen you looking at my little sister" in our ears.
obviously, he was looking.
he is still looking at her, and he always will - even when he's not there, even when she's far ahead, he will always look at her and he will always see her. everything she is, everything she was, everything she will ever be.
"i am not the man who can decide fates and hight others bad or good people, i have no right. but i'm saying what i saw. viserys was a scared little boy, if you wish to express it this way, but what he turned his fear into? violence—namely violence towards you, his younger sister, the second only left of his family, his closest friend and blood. is that something scared little boys do? is that something we should forgive if it's done even by a little and incredibly scared boy? it is not for me to decide, but i respect your mercy and your generosity. though you cannot change the way i think of him, forgive me that, my queen. you're wishing he's at peace, you give him forgiveness and you still love him after everything he's done to you, to other people, everything he wanted to do. that's how you are different form him. do you think, he'd do the same to you if the tables turned?"
how could i ever forget?
those eyes looking for my weal
her eyes are examining him now, seeking his weals.
jorah isn't sure she can ever see them, all his weals are hidden deep under his skin, under his flesh and under his bones.
all the scars that are visible, all one can touch are nothing compared to those he's wreaked himself.
"love can be enough and it can not be enough. you can never tell, before you try".
if he closes his eyes, he still can see lynesse. her love was enough for him, but in return when all he could have given her was love, it wasn't enough for her. it couldn't possible have been. looking at daenerys now, jorah realizes with a good streak of fear: if daenerys is close—just as she is now—if she is looking at him with her eyes and thoughts wide open when she talks to him without confinement and disengagement—just as she does now—he might even not need love from her.
he still wants, he eagerly wants her love.
but everything he already has, everything she's already giving him is enough. (he's too scared to lose it all)
hasn't jorah seen her?
at all the times she's been looking in another direction because she didn't know him, because she could only keep her eyes on drogo, because jorah was only her servant and she is a queen. even now, in the middle of nowhere, in a deserted house in the deserted city she a queen. she is the queen for him, though. and he is watching her, he sees her. even now, when they are covered in shadows, he can see ghosts of the pyre dancing on her skin, he can see fire burning in the depth of her eyes, he can see everything she herself is missing and struggling to notice.
"i've seen monsters before, khaleesi" jorah is quick to draw nearer, to go down on his knees just near her. the closest he can get—kneeled as a truthful knight of hers. "and you are everything, do you hear me, khaleesi? you are everything but a monster"
jorah is passionate and indiscreet.
jorah might regret (no. not regret. he will never regret truth told to daenerys. all he can regret are only things he does to her and doesn't do). he might as well face the consequences of his passion and devotion and frankness.
jorah cannot keep himself from telling her all the things he wanted to.
"you are the most incredible and marvelous creature (forgive me, my queen) i've ever seen in my life, and i've seen many of them. you are human, you are dragon, you are fire and blood, you are justice and grace, you are everything, all in one. i look at and i still can't believe that you are real. i remember stepping into the ashes of the pyre. everything was black—it seemed to me, the world went into mourning and coloured itself black. and then you were there, untouched, unburnt, the only light that could have been in the darkness. i've seen you, khaleesi, it was beautiful, what i've seen. i might still fail to perceive it all, but one thing i know for sure. if i had to choose, i'd choose you over everything, daenerys".
(her name escapes his lips and falls on the ground, cracks up into hundreds and thousands of shivers, glistening now in the darkness. jorah wants to collect them all and keep in a little leather bag close to his heart. her name, escaping his lips just like he always wanted it to, just like he tried, mouthing her name at night, laying without sleep)
how many times have they tried to break her,
how many times will they try again.
how many times have they tried to make a monster of her
how many times have they failed.
how many times will she rise again: untouched, unburnt, unbowed.
jorah craves to watch her—from now on and for as long as she lets him.
jorah is desperate to watch her rise.
jorah is desperate to be there, to be close—in case she'll need him.[nick]Jorah Mormont[/nick][status]unconditionally[/status][icon]https://funkyimg.com/i/34YNZ.png[/icon][fandom]a song of ice and fire[/fandom][char]джорах мормонт[/char][lz]i could iron out the edges of the sky but for some of us it ain't enough[/lz]
Отредактировано Robb Stark (2020-05-27 16:57:14)
i found god in myself
& i loved her
i loved her fiercely
stay silent.
be thankful.
be thankful.
you ask too many questions. you’re too nosy.
don’t touch it. don’t speak so loud. better don’t speak at all.
you are too skinny. damn it, little sister, you’re like a cow.
stay silent.
be thankful.
stay silent.
be thankful.
she has no one to be thankful to. she is not going to stay silent.
she has no gods, she has no family.
nobody but herself. it was a day just like any other in the desert. the day’s too hot, suffocating.
and the night’s too cold, it’s freezing her down to the bones.
and it was hardly new, she was still. her dragons curled up near her. they are always warm.
they are her fire and they are her blood.
from that night she believed in nothing and nobody but daenerys targaryen.
i’m a survivor, i’ll outlive you all.
daenerys is still learning, and she is eager, she’s curious, she’s brutally greedy when it comes to knowledge. she listens.
maybe her knight could teach her something.
maybe she’s doing the same to him.
- that’s why, - she says, and it’s final. it’s final, - viserys is not with us today. he’s got his crown. he did wrong, sir jorah, but he was the only family i had left. and the perfect example of everything a ruler shouldn’t be.
she smirks, she remembers viserys as a boy, and she remembers him as a young man. sometimes she envies him. the only thing her poor brother knew was the loss. but having something. and only then loosing it.
it hurts twice as much.
so her viserys is at peace, stuck in his youth forever, she’s touching viserion with her fingertips, just slightly.
- i believe he taught me well.
daenerys tried love and it proved itself wrong, or maybe she proved herself unsuitable for love.
she can’t be quiet, not anymore. and how does one scream in thunder, really?
how does on scream in thunder?
- was love enough for you, sir jorah? forgive my curiosity.
she’d never say drogo wasn’t enough.
he was enough. he was her everything. her sun and stars.
he was enough, and maybe their love, their son, maybe this was too much for the world to take in.
fine then.
maybe she, a monster, was cursed from the very beginning.
maybe she, a queen of the desert, queen of desolation, was meant for something else entirely.
you were enough, my love. and you were right. maybe it’s just the time was wrong.
and only then.
only then she’s finally seeing him. daenerys watches her knight, and you can’t do this to me, you know? you can’t do this to me.
neither could i do this to you. somehow i managed.
she inhales. the sound’s too loud probably, but she’s not here to make it beautiful. she had enough of covering herself and her feelings, she has enough of fake beauty.
she is a dragon. and sometimes it’s the last kind of beauty they saw.
- i keep trying to thank you and i keep failing, - she’s placing a hand on his wrist, he looks older somehow, like the day of the pyre cost him a few years.
i cost him a few years.
we never talk about it. maybe it’s not the things anyone should discuss.
she stays silent for another moment, watching him.
- you shouldn’t give me such a credit, ser jorah, - she shakes her head, unable to find the right words, - please, don't.
rewind a few months, and she wouldn’t believe someone could look at her like that.
rewind a few moments and she was scared of this honesty.
i can’t be scared.
daenerys pulls herself back together.
- we’ll die, we’ll die with those crazy ideas and things we’re not supposed to feel, you know more about it probably than me. but first we’ll live. and hopefully first we’ll change something about the world.
she smiles, it’s quick, and it’s rare, but she remembers now, - we’ve already done it.
she casts another look at him, - you’ve sworn to never betray me, you remember? stay by my side, i believe we can do more. i believe i still can surprise you, my knight. and i trust you to tell me about the monster if you see one.
he probably loved her too much, her knight.
for her own good.
and it wasn’t her responsibility, in the slightest.
yet she remembers. she remembers the hands carried her back to life.
she’s many things. first of them – she’s grateful.
[icon]https://funkyimg.com/i/34YNY.png[/icon]
Вы здесь » BITCHFIELD [grossover] » Прожитое » to serve you
