ragnarsson: ([13.4] Now crawl)
Ivar "The Boneless" Ragnarsson ([personal profile] ragnarsson) wrote in [community profile] riverviewlogs2017-12-05 09:36 pm

Catch-all post!

who: Ivar and others
what: Monthly log catch-all post
when: Starting about Dec. 10th and continuing throughout the month
where: All over the Quarantine
warnings: Graphic description of broken bones, sparring violence



Prompts below! Anyone who wants anything specific can PM me or contact me at [plurk.com profile] Light_shade

[personal profile] jelmazmo 2017-12-15 09:59 am (UTC)(link)
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.

[personal profile] jelmazmo 2017-12-16 06:27 am (UTC)(link)
"There are different sorts of cunning, too. My Hand is better at politics than he is with warfare and strategy. He is no military man, but Jon is; his counsel served me better than Tyrion's. You are a little like me, then: I'm no politician, nor have I ever wished to be." Daenerys is a visionary in other ways; she's gained two armies by outwitting the Masters and the Dosh Khaleen, and having faith in herself. This conversation reminds her soundly of that fact.

Looking at Ivar now, it's impossible not to see a little of herself. She'd been as young not terribly long ago; and she's still as underestimated now as she'd been then. The need for respect, to demand it is a known thing to her. Something she understands better than a well-born man of her country would be. But this well-born man from another world can.

Dany watches on with a serene expression, mouth curving in a faint half-smile. "Viserion, for the brother I mentioned earlier. Viserys was weak and cruel and stupid; this dragon will be all my brother could and would not." At her waist is a bag of raw meat. Reaching down, she plucks a tender morsel from it and hands it to him.

"Toss it in the air and watch."

i forgot if she mentioned viserys' murder - if she has, lmk and i'll edit

[personal profile] jelmazmo 2017-12-24 11:41 am (UTC)(link)
"It is." She raises her head, meeting his gaze levelly. "Your people are your responsibility, as family would be. To safeguard, to shelter and feed. Usurpers have left a mess of my country. Whether they fear, love or hate me, I still have work to do." Because her Dothraki and Unsullied had followed her across the Narrow Sea, not Cersei Lannister. Nor the Night King. "Should you lead your people one day, I would counsel this: find a balance between love and fear. They will follow." Olenna Tyrell hadn't been wrong, but nor had Rhaegar. And they'd both died.

"Should you ever need another one, I'll gladly oblige." You're welcome, she says without overtly saying so. Viserion leans a little closer, and she watches on, seemingly serene. "It was a relief when he died. A weight off my shoulders. I'm unaware of the intricacies of your situation, but cruelty should never be borne."

The dragon's snapped up the meat in no time, and she smiles to watch; it brings to the fore memories of another lifetime, or so it all feels like now. "Drogon is the largest of them, and not fully grown yet in the slightest. He dwarfs the ships we use to ply the sea."

[personal profile] jelmazmo 2018-01-07 11:19 am (UTC)(link)
"I told Jon once, that as we both wish to help our people, we might only do so from a position of strength. Sometimes that means being terrible. But as my Hand pointed out, there is a right kind of terrible: that which prevents our people from being even worse. Maybe that counsel will be of benefit to you, as it has been for me." She's speaking to him now as one adult to another, one ruler to another who would be. His age and condition in no way impede her from seeing that if he were to put his mind to it, he could be quite capable.

If he might curb his urge to have the world fear his name. "Viserys resented me because our mother died birthing me." And that she'd been born too late to wed their elder brother Rhaegar, and prevent him from running off with Lyanna Stark. She can empathize there, in a fashion. "It was not. And I don't doubt that she loved him too, in her way. You never love your children the same." Hers for the son of her body and her dragons are very, very different. But no less equally fierce.

Speaking of that, she grows very still, and the dragon at her side tenses. "No. He was killed by the abomination Jon calls the Night King. No human weapon can harm them, but that creature—" Her lips press together firmly, and Viserion seems to understand, and bares his teeth in a reflection of the rage she still feels with that thing over what he'd stolen from her. "It's a miracle of sorts that this dragon has been returned to me."