Much better, she thinks while holding his gaze intently. It doesn't strike her that part of the reason she's come may very well be Viserys; who'd been overtaken by bitterness and humiliation and never recovered his wits. Something Dany has no real care to witness repeat for anyone else. There is something in him she recognizes in herself, in Tyrion and others she's met and known—and respected.
She doesn't smile immediately, instead accepting his praise with an incline of her head. "One must be to survive. You would know, as well." It's what she believes and knows to be fact moreso than praise, though it will do. Dany also has a penchant for respecting those who've overcome great odds and emerged the stronger for having done so. Finally, there's a hint of a smile upon her face.
Sitting up as he is nearly renders them the same height, and thus easier for her to meet his gaze. Which she does unflinchingly. She listens to all he has to say, head tipped to the side, considering. "That's the truth of it. Such a way of life is sustainable only for so long, especially if your homeland has little arable land." His people remind her of the Ironborn, from what she's heard of both. And too of her ancestor, who'd taken a look at greener pastures and gone on to take them for himself. "To see the larger picture is important. Jon does so, to the benefit of his people. He became king because of his strength of character as much as his sword arm. And was chosen for both. When you teach your people to value your true strength, they will choose you."
Whether she thinks he's right to want to be feared or not—Olenna Tyrell's words come back to her now: be a dragon. Something to think on. In the meantime, her smile broadens a little.
"Only those who wish to harm me." Turning her head, she urges the little dragon forward in their mother tongue: "Jikagon va, byka mēre." Go on and meet him; and he does, shifting forward enough to butt his head against Ivar's wrist with a quiet hiss.
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She doesn't smile immediately, instead accepting his praise with an incline of her head. "One must be to survive. You would know, as well." It's what she believes and knows to be fact moreso than praise, though it will do. Dany also has a penchant for respecting those who've overcome great odds and emerged the stronger for having done so. Finally, there's a hint of a smile upon her face.
Sitting up as he is nearly renders them the same height, and thus easier for her to meet his gaze. Which she does unflinchingly. She listens to all he has to say, head tipped to the side, considering. "That's the truth of it. Such a way of life is sustainable only for so long, especially if your homeland has little arable land." His people remind her of the Ironborn, from what she's heard of both. And too of her ancestor, who'd taken a look at greener pastures and gone on to take them for himself. "To see the larger picture is important. Jon does so, to the benefit of his people. He became king because of his strength of character as much as his sword arm. And was chosen for both. When you teach your people to value your true strength, they will choose you."
Whether she thinks he's right to want to be feared or not—Olenna Tyrell's words come back to her now: be a dragon. Something to think on. In the meantime, her smile broadens a little.
"Only those who wish to harm me." Turning her head, she urges the little dragon forward in their mother tongue: "Jikagon va, byka mēre." Go on and meet him; and he does, shifting forward enough to butt his head against Ivar's wrist with a quiet hiss.