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.
[ 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, ]
It taught me to hone many gifts, [ anakin corrects her with a little smile. having been one false move away from becoming a dragon's next meal ( and with said dragon still nearby ), he can still manage levity more easily. the humor is tempered, however, by the subject matter. ] This I learned on the field. When it was only my master and I or when my men and I were cut off from reinforcements and supplies.
[ he unwinds the bandages as he speaks, careful not to pull at anything that may cling to burned skin. the skin is reddened and painful to look at. but considering the heat he felt rising from the dragon, the burns do not go as deep or seem as severe. from his belt he removes the supplies he needs.
anakin cleans the injured skin and applies a topical anesthetic to ease her discomfort. the bandages he winds around her fingers are bacta-lined to promote healing. ]
I was a little impulsive when I was younger. [ in contrast to now. ] And Master Obi-Wan and I were frequently on missions away from the capital so I had to learn to do much of this. He would deny it if he were here, but I was usually the one doing the rescuing.
He will be an old man and reminiscing the same of now. His hand is gentle, the metal one careful to avoid harsh contact, and she sighs when the salve is applied, grateful for the cool relief. There is something thick like a paste in the bandages, slippery, but not uncomfortable, and it does not ooze out onto her skin when the cloth is folded over.
Behind them, Drogon's anger has begun to cool. Perhaps it is the absence of some foreign substance in his blood, or perhaps it is Dany's own growing calm, but he brings up a winged claw and licks at the leather around it, a long, black tongue tending to a graze. On the ground, the metal has cooled to a queer shape, though it is still hot to the touch. ]
My army boils wine to stave away rot, [ she tells him as he finishes the tie on one hand. ] Bandages to conceal open wounds. Yet more oft than not, they fester unless some healer attends to their ranks. In Westeros the maesters are the learned healers, trained for years in their Citadel, though in Essos much of that responsibility falls to traveling women. Witches and maegi, who study under sorcerors in far-feared lands.
[ She had burned one of them. ]
You speak of your Obi-Wan often. [ The ties finished, she asks, ] Do you hope the rift should find him, as well?
[ his half-knowing, half-embarrassed grin tells no, not only when he was younger. he has an impetuous streak a mile wide, anakin knows. he is reminded of it enough, frequently by the very man she mentions.
any response he had to her description evaporates like so much mist under the rays of a sun. dany's question gives anakin pause. he thought frequently of returning, particularly when padmé was not present. with her here, most of his motivation to return has faded too. he is here, as is she, and the only way it could be more perfect is if luke were here, as well. does he hope the same of obi-wan? ]
He's been with me since I was nine years old, [ he begins slowly. since he was freed is what he doesn't say, though it's easy to surmise. anakin surrenders her hands, his own dropping. a little frown furrows his brow. he turns from her, walking a short distance away from her and the dragon. ]
Obi-Wan took me on as his padawan when I wasn't sure if I would be trained. We've been together since. [ stopping, anakin chuckles. ] I've spent longer away from my wife than I ever have from him.
[ his smile falls away too. blue eyes search out dany's. ]
He was like a father to me, then a brother. There are times I wish I could speak to him. He's a good, wise man, and…I miss him, [ anakin finishes helplessly. something like guilt darkens his eyes, and he has to look away. ] I'm not sure he'd approve of me here. I don't think he'd agree with what I've done.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Unseen, she shudders. ]
Come at once. [ A breath comes with this. ] Please. I know that he is still in difficulty.
[ And his blood is hot enough to melt spears. If that is so, too, for Zymandis metal ... ]
no subject
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. ]
Your Grace.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
Let me?
no subject
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, ]
Your Jedi knighthood has given you many gifts.
no subject
[ he unwinds the bandages as he speaks, careful not to pull at anything that may cling to burned skin. the skin is reddened and painful to look at. but considering the heat he felt rising from the dragon, the burns do not go as deep or seem as severe. from his belt he removes the supplies he needs.
anakin cleans the injured skin and applies a topical anesthetic to ease her discomfort. the bandages he winds around her fingers are bacta-lined to promote healing. ]
I was a little impulsive when I was younger. [ in contrast to now. ] And Master Obi-Wan and I were frequently on missions away from the capital so I had to learn to do much of this. He would deny it if he were here, but I was usually the one doing the rescuing.
[ ten times and counting. ]
no subject
He will be an old man and reminiscing the same of now. His hand is gentle, the metal one careful to avoid harsh contact, and she sighs when the salve is applied, grateful for the cool relief. There is something thick like a paste in the bandages, slippery, but not uncomfortable, and it does not ooze out onto her skin when the cloth is folded over.
Behind them, Drogon's anger has begun to cool. Perhaps it is the absence of some foreign substance in his blood, or perhaps it is Dany's own growing calm, but he brings up a winged claw and licks at the leather around it, a long, black tongue tending to a graze. On the ground, the metal has cooled to a queer shape, though it is still hot to the touch. ]
My army boils wine to stave away rot, [ she tells him as he finishes the tie on one hand. ] Bandages to conceal open wounds. Yet more oft than not, they fester unless some healer attends to their ranks. In Westeros the maesters are the learned healers, trained for years in their Citadel, though in Essos much of that responsibility falls to traveling women. Witches and maegi, who study under sorcerors in far-feared lands.
[ She had burned one of them. ]
You speak of your Obi-Wan often. [ The ties finished, she asks, ] Do you hope the rift should find him, as well?
no subject
any response he had to her description evaporates like so much mist under the rays of a sun. dany's question gives anakin pause. he thought frequently of returning, particularly when padmé was not present. with her here, most of his motivation to return has faded too. he is here, as is she, and the only way it could be more perfect is if luke were here, as well. does he hope the same of obi-wan? ]
He's been with me since I was nine years old, [ he begins slowly. since he was freed is what he doesn't say, though it's easy to surmise. anakin surrenders her hands, his own dropping. a little frown furrows his brow. he turns from her, walking a short distance away from her and the dragon. ]
Obi-Wan took me on as his padawan when I wasn't sure if I would be trained. We've been together since. [ stopping, anakin chuckles. ] I've spent longer away from my wife than I ever have from him.
[ his smile falls away too. blue eyes search out dany's. ]
He was like a father to me, then a brother. There are times I wish I could speak to him. He's a good, wise man, and…I miss him, [ anakin finishes helplessly. something like guilt darkens his eyes, and he has to look away. ] I'm not sure he'd approve of me here. I don't think he'd agree with what I've done.
[ or with what he still intends to do. ]