I'll be right there. [ anakin does not ask her where she is. there is the tracker in the magitek; drogon, massive as he is, is a fusion torch in the force.
he greets dany as he always does: with a respectful bow, arms loose at his sides. he left the long robe behind. his lightsaber glints silver at his belt. ]
[ To look at Drogon, with violet bandages wrapped about his neck, it is simple to tell what has happened. Dany stands nearby, large tatters torn from the cape in her uniform, hands clasped before herself. Her fingers are frozen in time, but from the way they are knotted together, similarly bandaged, it is evident that they had been needling at one another prior to his arrival.
Her back and shoulders are straight, her chin held high, as they always are. As they always must be. Your Grace, he calls her, and she is reminded of why. ]
He wearied of our flight all at once, [ she tells him, her tone tight, as though it is uncertain whether she will give commands or demand that they be left alone. But if his Force senses what a dragon feels, so too will he feel what she hides. Drogon's inferno eyes focus on Anakin, but he makes no move to lift his head, propped up on a claw-tipped wing. ] I dare not mount him again.
[ in response, he gets a a photo of a half-melted and ruined mass of miniature, identical droids. a few equally unlucky individuals ring the mass near the center, each about the size of a wasp.
in this thread: anakin skywalker will not lose. ( this is why he ends up alone and in an iron lung. ) ]
[ anakin nods to her, but doesn't verbally answer. he pauses by her only long enough to briefly rest a hand on her shoulder. then he has moved past her toward the dragon.
the beast's quiet does not lull anakin into a false sense of safety. anakin witnessed drogon a little smaller than he is now carving black streams of fire through a furious storm. sometimes, he still recalls the smell of the burned man in the sewers. before he has taken a step toward him, before coming to greet daenerys, anakin opened himself to the force. through the force, he reached for the beast first.
the dragon burns as hot as a star in the force. his fury is incredible. an unskilled padawan would be lost underneath its blaze. but anakin is a jedi knight, more powerful than any before him, with the force grasped in the palm of his hand. he presents himself as neither prey or challenger as he takes another measured step and another toward drogon. his own fear is locked far away; to allow drogon to sense it is to make himself a mark.
the knots around the black neck loosen on their own. the purple tatters twist to the ground. anakin opens himself further to the force. this is always a risk — communing with an animal. a jedi must be in full control of their own emotions; anything and everything they feel, the beast will too. anakin feels the heat of the dragon's glare on him and bids it calm.
something remains in his neck. anakin can feel it as if it were in his own, an irritation that does not belong. he can feel it too: almost liquid swimming in the black blood. ( he feels something else too. mother and child are bound. the delicate silver-haired woman behind him carries the dragon's ferocity — or maybe it's the other way around. )
so close he feels the heat that radiates off the scales, anakin seizes the foreign object in the force. slowly, at first, he begins to remove it. he feels drogon's discomfort; the warning of what will happen opens in the force; his awareness narrows to the immediacy of the next second.
he leaps out of the snap of drogon's jaws. at the same time, something drops heavily, so hot it glows where it lies in the earth. anakin again extends his reach into the force, seizing on the sense of relief to to keep drogon from striking at him again. the distance helps. ]
It's out, [ he announces to daenerys without looking to her. anakin does not look away from drogon. one hand remains extended toward him. ]
There's nothing else left. Give him time. He should heal fully now.
[ The hand upon her shoulder is comforting, fleeting. She cannot even acknowledge the touch.
Dany watches, with clouds of hot ash drifting between her and a view of the dragon whose pain has become her own. Is that why she had screamed, when the explosion had caught him in his wake? It had felt as if she herself had been struck--or perhaps that had only been anguish, and fury. Fury is a bond they have always shared between them, she now realizes. His anger is her own, and so she must be stronger than that.
We are bonded most in battle, she realizes, watching Anakin draw near with bated breath. He is a dragon, and so am I. In an instant, he could be incinerated where he stands, yet when the bandages unlace themselves, Drogon makes no move to open his maw, to unleash the fire that burns just behind his throat. A curious, tenuous calm settles, the pupiless red eyes watching with suspicion, as though temporarily taken from the brink of some fatal decision. The only battle Dany hears now is that of her heart, returning her to scorched sands and bloodied corpses, a dead man lying with a whip halfway out of his hand.
Her heart gives a lurch as Drogon's head lunges forward to snap, but so too is it accompanied by the splatter of something burning hot and silver, beginning to cool the instant it hits the sand. One of Drogon's wounds hisses, sending steam into the air, and the last of the poison leaves him. He should heal fully now, he tells her, and she closes her eyes, silently praising the Mother for her mercy. He speaks truly. ]
Thrice now you've aided me, [ she tells him, when the breath has returned to her enough to speak. ] Thrice now you've risked your life for mine. You shall not willingly accept recompense, I know, yet I owe you much and more for that.
[ She holds out her hands to take his in thanks, the gesture delicate. There are burns beneath the bandages that she dares not expose. Would that I could call him friend. Yet she has scarce had a friend for whom oaths and contracts make no matter, from whom no other request comes. ]
[ anakin shakes his head before she is finished. he slips his fingers between hers, and covers the clasped hands with his mechno-arm. her relief is palpable in the force and in her expression. no matter his arrogance in a ship, with a weapon clasped, in the certainty of his own, not unimpressive abilties — before heartfelt gratitude, anakin is disarmed. less the proud knight, and more the earnest little boy who dreamt of stars and believed that if people would only help one another the galaxy would be a better place. ]
You don't owe me anything. I'm glad to serve.
[ his gloved fingers encircle her wrist. he eyes the bandages around her hands. they match the ones he slipped loose of drogon's neck and the tears of her cloak. from the steam of the dragon's blood, it isn't difficult to know from what she earned her injuries. unlike with drogon, he seeks her permission first. ]
[ He is a knight, and she took her mantle believing that the gods made kings and queens to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Yet what is she to do for someone who requires no protection, and tells her only that he is pleased to serve? She can grant him no lands, no shelter. He is not one of her children.
He takes her wrists in his, and her fingers curl instinctively, violet eyes studying his own in curiosity. She has healed from Drogon's burns before, but there is no reason to forgo help, when so many possess gifts.
In answer, she unfurls her fingers and nods. She is not yet at peace enough to fully jape, but she manages lightly, ]
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