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✖ game of thrones: daenerys targaryen

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who: Claire Farron & Open~
what: Her arrival + her settling in as a perimeter guard.
when: December 9th.
where: Communal housing + hanging out around it.
warnings: TBD? I can't think of any off the top of my head.

The new world faded like a dream. Claire stood beside her bed - her assigned bed - eyes unfocused. Had she imagined it? No, she knew better than that. That world had been real and so was this one.

Tipping her head back, she let out a long breath, her lips set in a grim line. As much as she wanted to avoid the reason she had been brought here - instead of left alone - she knew that wasn't possible. Flicking open her bag, she pulled out the knife Serah had given her. It was the only weapon she had, but since she was meant to be a perimeter guard, she knew that wouldn't always be the case.

With the blade tucked into her belt, she left her room and paced down one of the halls, alert for any sounds of distress. She couldn't really help herself. After fighting for so long, after being a guardian, a warrior, a savior, she couldn't turn her back on anyone in need.

Too bad no one seemed to be running to her aid. But that was on a par for her life so far.

"What would you think of all of this?" she smirked as she thought of her sister and her friends. Running a hand through her hair, she shook her head ruefully.

"Hey, anyone alive in here?"

(Outside)

Since she was a so-called "perimeter guard", it followed that she needed to know said perimeter. Armed at last with a proper gun, Claire slipped away from the communal housing and took advantage of her duties. The knife Serah had given her was still in her belt, ready for any close combat if, for some reason, her gun was knocked away.

Maybe she could put together a gun-blade somehow. That was her preferred weapon for being a guard, at least.

Boy was this bringing back memories. Her stride lengthened and she rested the gun against her shoulder.

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Marinette wasn't privy to Claire's thoughts and concerns, but she was still living in the Communal Housing. For the moment. Hearing an unfamiliar voice (one of many, to be honest), she looked up from her heading for the elevator (sometimes she takes the stairs but she didn't want to deal with ten flights today), offering a polite smile. Heeey cool hair! "Hello? Are you lost?"

Ten flights was a lot for anyone to deal with! Even if the body didn't tire, it was a horrible bore. Claire came to a halt, head cocking at the voice.

"I...don't know. I guess I'm new?" so she was lost in a general sense. Not to mention, ever since the old world was obliterated, she had found herself feeling a little awkward around strangers. She was entirely herself again - no blocks, no barriers - so it was going to take some adjustment.

"Have you been here long?"

Edited 2017-12-09 22:16 (UTC)

She was pretty in shape, but.. yeah. Marinette gave the other woman a cheerful smile, "Oh! Well, welcome!" Her smile twitches a little at the question- on the one hand she felt like she was here TOO long, ont he other - she had one or two friends that she'd miss if she left. Not to mention she..wasn't ready to go back. "Yeah, for about... oh gosh, half a year now, almost.. Time really flies, huh?"

"...thank you." her voice softened and she glanced around before refocusing on Marinette, "That it does." now her lips twitched, almost a smile, "I'm..."

What was she going to call herself here? Claire was a name that was a little too raw; a little too new. She hadn't used it in...five hundred years? Old habits were doomed to last, it seemed. For now anyway.

"Lightning."

Marinette shook her head with a smile, "No thanks necessary." Not everyone was happy to be here, but she felt she could at least do her part to help make their arrival easy - at least here. "Lightning? Nice to meet you. My name is Marinette."

"Hello, Marinette." she was reminded a bit of Vanille and that helped her relax, "It looks like I've been designated as a perimeter guard." she wondered how much area said perimeter surrounded, "I'm definitely suited for the task."

"Oh? I have a few friends in the Perimeter Guard too." She tilted her head curiously, "Were you a cop or a soldier or something where you're from?" If she's suited, she must be familiar with fighting.

"Do you? I'd like to get to know them if I'm sticking around for awhile." she smiled softly, sadly, "Something like that."

It was a long, long story.

"I started out as a soldier, then I was a knight, a savior..." she shrugged a delicate shoulder, "I know how to protect."

"Yeah. Keith is one and I think his friend Shiro is also," She pauses -- actually she knew more than that but as her alter persona so.. yeh, she can't..actually name the others. "Probably." Hrm. Well. Soldier, Knight and Savior - they were all just the same thing, really. In her opinion. "Then the Perimeter Guard's a good place for you. It's relatively quiet here, usually, though, so I don't think you have much to worry about. And there are some people who aren't on the Perimeter Guard who keep the peace inside town."

"Maybe I'll meet them sometime." she wasn't against the idea, surprisingly. It was better if she embraced this opportunity - whatever it meant and wherever it might take her.

"I don't mind a quiet existence. That's what I was searching for before I came here. I thought I had it." her eyes were unfocused, memory taking hold, "But I trust all of that will be there when I go back."

"It's a pretty good likelihood I think. There are a lot of vigilantes that go there as well. I think they're part of the Perimeter Guard too." So it's nice that there were so many people here. "Have you met your roommates yet?"

"Sounds familiar." she should fit right in, teasing included if she felt comfortable enough, "I haven't. I'm on the first floor in bed ten. Know anyone close?"

Marinette shook her head, "No, sorry. I had a friend on the second floor, but they've already moved out, and I'm way up on the tenth floor." She paused, "Actually I haven't really branched around the people in the building." She met a bunch of people sure, but she only befriended some of them, like Keith. The others she became friends with already left for their own worlds, lucky them.

"I'm going to have to climb a lot of stairs to visit you." not that it would stop her, "I hope you don't mind?"

Heaven knew she needed friends. Serah would encourage her to open up and be herself. Though she would go by Lightning here, she would be Claire underneath the guise.

Marinette smiled lightly, shaking her head. And hey, no judging on having two names. She goes by Ladybug with the Perimeter Guard, but she's Marinette underneath~! "Oh~! I don't mind at all! But you don't have to worry about the stairs, the building also has an elevator -- er... do you know what.." Wait, that might come out rude. "Did you have those where you're from?"

She liked this girl; Marinette was a lot like Serah and Vanille, actually. She could definitely be a bright spot in the dark.

"Yes." her lips twitched, "My world is modern and it's probably not much different from yours."

That might be a bit of a stretch, but it felt like a fair guess. Regardless, Claire needed some kind of familiarity. Familiarity made this whole experience easier to bear. She really should be a pro at handling sharp, drastic changes by now, but she would probably never be completely immune to them.

Marinette was definitely bright and enthusiastic. "Oh good! Then I don't have to explain them to you... I'm.. not even sure I'd be able to explain them properly anyway." She paused, "Oh, not that I wouldn't try though! I mean, if y ou do have questions. . . .do you have questions?"

"It sounds like a lesson that is better experienced." she gave a shrug, "Not that I need to ride an elevator anytime soon."

Marinette's almost apology made her smile.

"I think I need to look around first." Claire motioned with her head down the hallway, "You're welcome to join me."

"Oh! Sure thing, I'd like that." She didn't have anything to do at the time, so making friends with someone while they looked around sounded like a fantastic way to spend her time. "Where to?"

John Sheppard, military black sheep, longing for the organization and regulation of the USAF? John's old CO would eat his saltiest cammies, if he believed it.

It's not that John longs for the old days of paperwork, briefing, debriefing, drill, dress-code, or the pointlessly complicated, and often twisted, chain of command. Under normal circumstances, he'd happily do without.

But he's been walking around base looking for an away team to complete a routine survey of the outer perimeter for as long, or longer, than the survey itself is going to take. Riverview's Perimeter Guard, and it's grassroots approach, makes the Atlantis Security Ops look organized, and that's saying something. Considering John used to be the guy in charge.

"Hey you, with the cotton-candy hair, you busy? I need some boots outside the wall."

He had some guts calling out to her like that - not that anyone knew her in Riverview. Claire felt more amused than disgusted as she paused, one hand on her hip. She blew her fringe out of her eyes, reining in a laugh.

"That's the best welcome you can give me?" she gave a sharper smile, dangerous and maybe a mite mischievous, "What's going on outside the wall? I don't mind going, but I'd like to know what I'm up against."

"Sorry, forgot where I parked the wagon." He smiles brightly back, ever sarcastic, but not unfriendly. John's no Riverview veteran, but he's been around long enough to know a newbie when he sees one, and he rarely forgets a pretty face. That, and the pink hair is hard to miss. You could land an F-18 in the dead of night with a mop that bright on the runway.

"As for what's going on outside? The usual. Mutant lions, tigers, and bears, oh my, with a dash of creepy crawlies. Just in case teeth and claws aren't enticing enough." John's already dolled up in webbing and BDUs, carrying an assault rifle, his side-arm, and a few grenades, just in case things get and heavy.

"Between the two of us, we probably have enough bullets to do a quick sweep, so long as we don't take the scenic route. Whaddya' say, Corporal Candy?"

Funny. Claire was going to have a hard time keeping a straight face around this one, but maybe that wasn't so bad. Laughter was good for her. She had avoided it for far too long, thinking herself above it or unworthy of it - especially after she lost track of Serah.

"Fair enough." she motioned at the gun, "I'll need to reload this if things get hairy. I also wouldn't mind a larger blade."

She loved her knife; she didn't want to risk losing it. But a knife wouldn't cut it with mutants anyway.

"My name is Lightning." because Claire was still too big of a shift for her. Besides, she felt like she was in the thick of it again.

"We'll get along fine if I don't have to hand your ass to you."

"We can stop by the armoury on our way out. There's plenty of sharp and shooty things to choose from." John sticks with his gear because it's what he's used to, and competent with. As cool as a lightsaber sounds, he's more likely to chop off his own arm than do damage to someone else. Not that it hasn't stopped him from winging one around, when no one's looking.

"Lightning. Pleased to meet you. John Sheppard. I've only been here a month or so, but I'd be happy to show you around the place." He holds out a gloved hand to her, respectfully, because for all his sass, John's still a soldier, and he recognizes his kind when he sees them.

"Likewise."

"Then we won't have any issues in the field." she wouldn't appreciate having to resort to fists, but whatever got the job done, right? Speaking of armor, she might need a few pieces of that too. Nothing so heavy it would slow her down, but enough to blunt a blow.

She wasn't gifted with godly powers anymore.

"I'm up for a tour." Claire shifted her gun and took his hand, giving it a brief shake. This whole being sociable thing was as new as her responding to Claire instead of Lightning.

"I don't think we'll have any trouble. Neither of us are green." not by a long shot.

The mere mention of the word green almost makes John laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking.

"The hardest part of this mission will be filing the paperwork." John's not entirely exaggerating. A month in, and he's still not sure who he's reporting to, or where it goes, not that he's gone out of his way to ask.

Truthfully, the life of an NCM is taking some getting used to. Maybe it's not that the PG are unorganized, so much as John's gotten used to being the one in charge, and always in the know. There are perks to going where he wants, when he wants, and only thinking about the task at hand, but he's been an officer for the better part of a decade. His job almost seems too simple, only worrying about himself. He almost misses the burden of responsibility.

Almost.

Mostly, he misses his team. The way they worked together, and the camaraderie.

"Let's go. The Wall Research and Defense want this info yesterday, and trust me, you don't want to get on their bad side."

"I can't really remember the last time I did paperwork." which would make it a novelty for awhile? She was bound to get bored pretty quickly, but after all she had gone through, a quiet room and some paperwork weren't the end of the world. Metaphorically or literally.

"Am I supposed to be scared?" her lips quirked, challenging, but she fell into position beside him nonetheless, "Upper management will have to make do with our best and not complain."

Otherwise the hand that fought and protected could start to bite.

"In that case, you'll get lots of practice." John wouldn't just dump all his paperwork on Lightning, but if she needs a refresher? There's nothing like hands-on experience.

It's an uneventful walk to the armoury. The HQ really isn't that big, and most PG are busy doing something or other. They're an active crowd. Like John, most prefer to be out in the field.

"Scared? No. Prepared for a headache? Yes. If complaining were an Olympic sport, he'd take home the gold every time." On a good day, Rodney's constant chatter is enough to make John ears ring. Surviving one of his tangents requires a tactical combination of smiling, nodding, and knowing your nearest exits.

"Here we are. Armoury. Shop til you drop."

"Noted." she could grin and bear it with the best of them. Her temper wasn't nearly so short-fused as it used to be. That didn't mean she would take anyone ordering her around too much, however. Claire Farron would always have her emotional limitations no matter how much she learned...or matured.

"What are the Olympics?" no, she was serious. She presumed some sort of competition or sport, but the name didn't ring any bells.

Of course nothing mattered as much as checking out the Armoury when they finally caught sight of it. She grinned and walked inside, eyeing the guns and the various other gear with a critical eye.

"I'm really not dressed for combat." not with her high-heeled shoes. She tugged them off, sought out some socks and exchanged them for some boots. Then she added on a few pieces of leather to her person for protection should she need to fall or roll. Last, but not least, she gathered more ammo for her gun and dropped it into a satchel at her waist.

"Olympics. Well, every country on my planet sends their best athletes to compete in different games to win medals, and the country who wins the most gets bragging rights until the next one. Some games are more important than others. No one really cares who takes home the gold medal for curling. It basically exists to make Canadians feel included." John's an old hat at explaining Earth traditions and sport at this point. Even before Riverview, he's spent years trying to convince the Athosians into starting a football league.

He picks up a some kind of anti-materiel rifle, one far too large and unwieldy for an in-and-out mission, but definitely high on cool factor, and beads it on the target across the room while Lightning picks out her gear.

"What are you talking about? I wear heels into battle all the time. Surefire way to distract the enemy." He tosses her a few grenades, underhand, with a grin.

"Don't get too excited. I doubt we'll be seeing a lot of action, but we'll probably get stuck clearing a ton of bush. Might as well do it the fast way. Efficiency." That, and explosions are good for the soul. They make John feel better, anyway.

"We have something like that on my world. I guess ambition exists everywhere." she isn't surprised; humans will be humans, "Why is curling less important? All of the sports should be equal, right?"

If they are not equal, what is the point of working so hard and displaying them to the world? Claire hums faintly as she readies herself for combat. As a last measure, she shrugs off her cardigan and hangs it near her heels. She doesn't want to be easy to catch - nor does she want it torn.

She looks up from her preparations in time to catch a grenade. What the hell?

"Don't toss them!" she clips the explosives to her belt, grimacing, "You do have the legs for heels." her eyes flash, slightly mischievous, but the emotion shifts suddenly into something sterner, "I'm not wasting grenades on brush. Besides, brush can be a nice cover."

That and animals could be living there. Blowing up their homes - or them - is bad manners.

With only one audience in the afternoon, she'd taken off early from work to go to the market and buy some ingredients to cook a simple meal. That's contained in a paper bag balanced on her left hip. Her right hand holds a medium-sized dog carrier lined with a plush-looking bed. And for good measure, there's a small dragon perched on that shoulder. Dany takes the stairs out of habit, distrust for the iron winch that takes people up, and to keep in shape. Today, it's part of her routine that has an extra benefit: she can hear the voice calling out on the first floor while on her way up.

Given that she lives only two floors above, she takes the short detour, and walks through that door as if she owns the building. (One day, maybe, she just might.)

"Several. But those not out attending to their assigned occupations are likely sleeping." There's a little amusement in her eyes, though her expression is guarded. "There's been a good deal of celebration going on of late."

Daenerys was precisely the sort of ambitious woman that Lightning could respect. She probably should have looked chagrined at the idea of her potentially waking up sleeping residents, but that wasn't really her style. They should be used to odd happenings by now.

"Why?" her voice was quiet, unsure, "I can't really see a reason to celebrate. I was -" in a place that merited a celebration.

A long one.

Now she was here instead.

"I'm meant to protect this place. I can do it; I just need to know the details." and she would like to know who she was defending and from what.

Edited 2017-12-12 03:53 (UTC)

"Your guess is as valid as mine might be, lady. When I ask, the reply is typically 'It's that time of year.'" She makes a sound that's caught somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and then shakes her head. This place is strange, even after a month of being here. Viserion's presence has eased her, but only a little. The feeling of being trapped, caged is pervasive, striking her several times on a daily basis. In light of that, she can see little worth celebrating now.

"I've heard of feasts to celebrate a bountiful harvest or celebrate a wedding or victory in battle, but my people don't hold such festivities just because."

And it seems as if it may be similar in this woman's world. What she says next has amusement fading from her expression, replaced with solemnity.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps you are a prisoner, as we all are here. I have only been here a month; but if you have questions, I can try to provide answers."

"Hardly substantial." she mirrored the scoff, "But I'd expect answers like that back on Bodhum." her eyes closed for a moment as she remembered her first home. It didn't even exist anymore. But that was okay. She had a new world and her family and friends with her. Besides that, she was finally complete.

"Maybe that reasoning is fine. When people stop celebrating, when there's nothing to celebrate, that's when a world is dying." she didn't want to go through that again. She didn't want to do the bidding of any gods or be put into a crystal slumber.

"What sort of monsters am I going to face? Weaponry seems plentiful, but there's usually a reason for that." Claire wouldn't rest until she could have some reassurance the area was safe and secure. She supposed that was the soldier coming out in her; never resting, always fighting, always protecting.

"Either it's about giving—or romance, the others here can't seem to make up their minds. Though if it involves helping those who have little, I would do so any day, regardless of whether there's anything to celebrate." It's what she's spent her time doing, pursuing since she'd married into the Dothraki. After having lived in sewers and begging for succor from this or that rich family supposedly loyal to her family, it's work that has a very personal meaning to her.

And the woman's words are false. Dany inclines her head, restraining a frown—but just barely so. "You've seen that happen before." She's seen the specter of it in the form of the Night King. She doesn't say as much, but there's a knowing, empathetic light in her eyes to lead anyone to come to a like conclusion.

"I don't know. My intended works with the guard, as well; he would have a greater insight." The dragon at her shoulder trills, and dips his head, looking for a pet. Sighing, she can't keep from smiling as she indulges him, his scales warm beneath her fingers. "If the largest of my dragons is returned to me, I could act as a scout. Currently, there is an effort to reclaim the abandoned city and restore power to some method of transportation linking here to the waterfall, at least."

"You make a good point. But weather changes can shift people's moods. When it's colder, it's easier to remember those who have less." she used to be one of that number - along with her sister. After their parents had passed, they had to struggle with their grief and survival. Claire hadn't wanted them to ever be split up, so she assumed the 'adult' role and left her childhood as far behind as possible.

"Yes." she answered quietly, honestly, "I saw a world afraid to die, afraid to stop being. People panicked and tried to run, but there was nowhere to run to." their souls were harvested and the world was reborn.

The somber topic had no defense against that precious trill. Claire smiled too, watching Daenerys oblige the small dragon.

"What's your intended's name?" she had a feeling she would be able to tell him apart from the others, but rather safe than sorry, "What of your dragon?" her eyebrows rose at the mention of a larger dragon, "And you can control them?"

"I grew up in warm places, but I could never forget; I was one of those children once." There's no change in her expression, and her tone is matter-of-fact. "Seasons last for years where I come from, and the longest summer in living memory had just ended. A decade long." She thinks of the people of the North; Jon's people—hers, too. Strapped for resources and facing the worst of winter isolated from the rest of the country, their numbers depleted from that fool war Joffrey and his ilk had begun. It makes her heart ache for them, even knowing full well that they will have many an objection to her.

She's shaken and also steeled by what she hears next, and stands straighter, the dragon more alert. "That won't happen again." Her dreams come true. And one of hers is to either settle this world properly to live with its natives or to see herself, Jon and all the others returned home. One or the other.

Viserion tilts his head, curious as he tends to be with so many. He shifts to perch on her hand, claws digging into her skin; and she lightly shoos him off, so that he circles the room before returning to them.

"Jon Snow. Where we come from, he is King in the North." As if on cue, Viserion hovers in the air between them, level with Lightning's face as if he might peer into her eyes. In fact: he is.

"Viserion, for one of my brothers. The others are Rhaegal and Drogon. The lattermost is the largest of them. They obey me, but I don't control them, no."

Trying to do so had nearly ruined her relationship with two of them.

"I was too." she glanced at Daenerys, respect brimming under the surface, "How did you plant anything? Was it a milder Summer? I feel like everything would die if it was too harsh."

Bodhum, in comparison, had been a beach town, the weather usually mild to moderate unless there was a storm brewing. In the new world, however, it was Spring. Everything was green and blooming.

"I...don't want to see it happen again." she curled her free hand into a fist, clenching her teeth, "There was a reason before. Things had gone too far in a bad direction. Because of my friends...and my family...all of the souls were ferried to the new world safely." and the god responsible for causing such a mess was executed.

Claire tipped her head back to watch Viserion's flight. He was a pretty one and she didn't have a problem looking after him if he needed it.

"Careful there, handsome. You might be made out of scales, but your lady isn't." her eyes widened at his choice of positions and she held out her hands, giving him a place to rest if he approved, "Does that make you a prince?" she smiled at the names, "Those are good. They sound strong."

Yeah, she could understand not wanting to control a dragon. You work beside them; with them.

"They listen to you out of loyalty. I like that bond better."

"I didn't plant anything." She pauses for a long moment, brows knitting together. "We were pursued by assassins, my brother and I. I have nothing in the way of a formal education other than some linguistics. But I've been told it is blisteringly hot to balmy in the south during summer, and comparably mild in the north. I arrived in winter, and the south felt mild, compared to what I'm used to. And most of the realm's food is grown in the Reach, to the southwest." Most, as there are still plenty of farms to be found between there and the North.

One day, she hopes to see spring. Late summer in Essos had been humid to blistering for most, but the climate had never really bothered her. Winter, on the other hand—

Stepping forward, Dany sets down her bag and moves to grasp one of her hands with hers. "Then you won't. What happened before—with your world, with mine—our choices can render those events unable to come to pass again. I have no faith in gods. Only what we might accomplish with our own hands and decisions."

Watching her dragon interact with this woman tells her one important thing: she's likely possessed of a good character. The dragons always know. They had with Jon.

Viserion trills at her, eventually alighting upon Lightning's offered hand. While he digs his claws into her now, Dany wears a blithe expression. "I'm Queen of the other kingdoms of Westeros; believe it or not, it's not a political match." And she thrills in being able to boast a little, to smile as she had with Missandei. How deeply she misses her friend now. Finally, she releases Lightning's hand, leaning back to regard her with the shadow of a smile on her face.

"So do I. And what is your name, lady? Mine is Daenerys, of House Targaryen."

"If the your South - and Reach - have a milder Winter, you should not expect a shortage of food." though if snow and ice were involved, it would be downright miserable (and deadly) for some regardless if enough food could be grown, "Why were you pursued by assassins?" her face paled, her expression wary but stern.

Anyone who would send assassins to do a job for them was a coward. Claire gripped onto Daenerys's hand instinctively - she already liked and respected this woman.

"That is all that matters. What we do with our two hands is a tribute to our worlds. You have escaped assassins and gained the loyalty of dragons. You need no god to grant you power or prestige." her voice was strong and assured. She could almost be saying something similar to herself. Claire had lost her sister after a stupid fight that had seemed important at the time. She fought countless foes in her quest to get her back. She had been in a crystallized slumber for hundreds of years. She had awoken to a world on the brink of destruction and killed a god.

No, they didn't need any help from upper management.

Viserion's choice caused her to smile. Claire stroked the dragon's head and wings, marveling over his coloring even as his claws dug in. It really was no worse than a cat; she could handle it.

"How did you become Queen without a King?" she saw Daenerys's smile and she softened, "I'm happy for you. Political matches shouldn't exist for marriages. If two people hate each other, causing them to get married isn't going to change that." she flushed and tucked her hair behind her ear, "I'm...Claire. Claire Farron. But I'll probably go by Lightning. It's the name I'm used to hearing."

Edited 2017-12-25 11:16 (UTC)

"For wheat? I'm uncertain, but existing food stores are low thanks to the Usurper." Once, the Usurper's wife. How unpredictable life is. Dany purses her lips, any warmth fleeing her expression as she raises her head and answers simply: "I was born, I existed. My father was deposed, but a king still. My brother and I were a threat to those who warmed the Iron throne in our stead."

They'd never stayed in one place long; Braavos, Tyron, Pentos. Lys. Oh, they'd toured the Free Cities, but at great (and needless, she suspects) expense. Not for a lack of assassins, but because of how much her brother had spent compared to how meanly they had lived, oftentimes in gutters and sewers. Beggars, indeed. She doesn't communicate any of this, but as she can see that this woman has worked hard to attain whatever honours she's received, so might she divine the same in Dany's violet eyes.

"And that we leave it better than we've found it, no matter the circumstances, or why we've been brought here." Whatever they face at home, they are here now, and that should be made to count for something, even if they have been duped, or their "hosts" think to use or cage them. Chains have never daunted Dany in the past, and they certainly will not begin to now.

Dany watches as Viserion basks in the attention, and her expression warms again. "He seems to like you." A thing she'd once said to Doreah of Drogon, so very, very long ago now. It's her hope that Claire is as entirely different a sort of woman from Doreah as her words and expression communicate her to be.

"In Westeros, I'm the last of my bloodline. But people have chosen to follow me over the years; an honour." And a heavy responsibility, too. "Jon and I didn't like each other too much in the beginning; it took time." Something softens in her eyes, and Viserion trills quietly where he's perched. "Good to meet you, Claire Farron. A strong name, either way."

It suits her, she thinks.

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Sorry about the delay! Was down with the sniffles :(

I empathize with your sniffles. :(

Thank you T_T

<3

Re: <3

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