#unburntqueen

@unburntqueen

♛ — And just then - as he called her DANY again, she couldn’t help but smile even though she had told him not to. It had reminded her of her brother, perhaps that was why, but by then she had realised Jon was so DIFFERENT; she knew he cared about her, she didn’t only feel it, but she could SEE it as well just by the way he looked into her eyes.

❝I love you, Jon❞, she whispered quietly and looked at him where his lips met the skin of her hands and she leaned in to place a soft kiss on the top of his head. ❝We will not keep it a secret. We will tell them, and we will find a way of how to tell them - TOGETHER. And they will accept us, I am sure of that❞, she promised quietly and swept her thumbs across his fingers. ❝Cersei will never be stronger than the two of us bound together, trust me.❞

Daenerys closed her eyes right then with a soft sigh, while she wondered how Jon’s FAMILY might react to the outcome of their alliance - that was what she truly worried about.

     Jon counted on that smile, the way she looked at him like there was nothing remotely wrong with who he was. Sta look of being diminished for being a stain, it left him haunted and although he moved past it, in private, he still held onto a notion that he did not belong. Her violet eyes though, they gave him purpose, they coaxed the man to smile in return, knowing her stare was only for him. 

        Those cold, stark eyes melted for her once again, almost threatening top never hardens again. The feelings such words raise within him, leave little another choice but to just give in. Feeling wanted and encouraged to embrace what separates him, and they from others were welcomed. He reached out for her beautiful face again and leaned in to close the distance, pressing his lips to hers. 

Up until the very last moment, Robb doubted his actions. And considering how far he had traveled to get here, he’d had a lot of time for it.

Essos was a world as foreign and strange as the few stories he’d heard about it in his life had promised it would be. The food was far too spicy. The way the people’s tongues wrapped around the words were foreign. Their customs and way of life were a mystery to him.

Remembering Talisa and everything she had ever said about the land she had come from still made his heart hollow, an ache that was numb and all-encompassing. (Worse was the guilt, the shame, an ever-present sharp sting that came with every memory of every face he’d lead to their death.)

It was so warm Robb sometimes thought it unbearable, and he felt terrible for Grey Wind who, after the first month, had started losing some of his fur. It had scared him at first, but the direwolf didn’t seem phased by it, regularly rubbing against a tree or the ground to shed some of the thick hairs. Sometimes he was sure it would have been kinder, and more prudent, to leave him in Westeros, but Robb knew that there was no way he could stomach that. His wolf only ever left his side now when he had to, and he’d never have the words for how grateful, how relieved it made him.

He’d had to leave him behind this time, when he’d entered the city of Meereen, at the end of his long journey. It sat uneasily with him, after all these months in a foreign land still feeling displaced, and without Grey Wind at his side, the doubts grew louder again. But after he had come all this way, he had to bring this to an end. Or he would truly be lost.

Robb hadn’t known how it would go, how he’d get an audience with the dragon queen. (Dragons that had, so far, remained suspiciously absent from the skies, so all those rumours probably hadn’t been anything but that in the first place.) But in the end it was easy - all he had to do was fall into line of the petitioners hoping to eventually be admitted, and to wait.

And finally, at the end of his long journey, he found a small, slender woman with silvery hair and purple eyes on Meereen’s throne up ahead, beautiful and regal, and just a little otherworldly. For a long moment Robb just looked at her and then, finally, bowed his head.

Daryl was driving the van, eyes on the road and his mind wandering. He let her sleep in the passengers seat. They had been out for a few days now, looking for supplies. They had found some blankets and clothes they could bring back, but no food or water. That was the stuff they needed most. So here they were, still out and about.

He just wanted to find something good for a change. Just a bit of luck, a pick me up. Anything to make the times a bit easier. They had a lot of people counting on them.

For someone as intensely pyrophobic as Sandor - the last thing he expected was to be rescued from certain death by a fucking dragon. Yet here he was, having rushed towards a dragon and thus having travelled with the Mother of Dragons - Daenerys Targaryen. He briefly thought that if someone told him this would’ve been the case a few years ago, he would’ve spent little time in telling them to fuck off.

At least his brother was now uglier than him.

Sandor stood next to Daenerys, pulling a cork out of a bottle of pear brandy with his teeth, gulping it back as if it were wine. It had been far too long since he’d had a decent drink of something strong.

*sends hugs*

I’m here, we can start a thing !