a thousand times I tempted fate;
He cannot get over the fact that she is warm, flesh and blood that is alive. All he has know these past few years is the cold, the lack of life; death. Orra had been his only shot of warmth and he lost her way to soon and in so he embraced the cold, wallowed in it's misery as his own. Daenerys. She is giving him so much more than her company, more than he comprehend. For this is the first time since Orra that he has enjoyed the warmth of another without the need to bring the cold. She is giving him a chance, a chance to see if he is in fact even capable of this. For even though he desires the change, wants happiness. It is so different than actually having it. This is why he flails, sputters, and chokes. Unsure of how to accept something without ulterior motive. For talking to her will not give him power, will not give him fury, if anything it gives a calm. And he is unsure what to do with that just yet.
The storm is coming, so close now that he can smell the rain in the air as the dark sky ignites with the light. As the clouds roll in the thunder. Her words seem to drown out the storm, as ears perk and listen with such intent he finds himself leaning in; towards her. And as her words come to an end his are quick to begin. "And what would you do with that power Daenerys?..." His question is low, a hum on his lips as he looks at her with some unknown feeling in his eyes. As his own lips try to mimic her own smile but fall so short of making of it. "Back home, our storms are legendary. A show of what mother nature can give.. Deadly and yet beautiful...." He isn't sure why he mentions that, perhaps it the fact she is finding enjoyment in this one that perhaps even in his home she could find pleasure in those as well. Though he hopes she would never find herself in such a dark place, he wouldn't wish it upon anyone.
As he breaks eye contact at his blunder, his scarred face feels as if fire itself sprouts from damaged flesh. Why had he said that? He had not meant to point at the obvious even though to him it is new. Maybe it is the fact that after years of cold he is fascinated by her warmth, for she alive. And he wants a piece of that. As he contemplates his wayward tongue it is the contact that comes next, that cause his body to tense, head whipping back as orange eyes look at her in shock yet again before they soften. As he revels in this moment, leaning into to her briefly. Her words a balm to a scarred soul. As a smile begins, the closest he has ever come to one. She steps away crossing before him and he can't help the way his muzzle reaches out to but barely come in contact with her coat; leaving a tickling sensation upon his nose. As orange eyes follow her while feet remain still.
She looks back and he feels the soft wave of his tail at the fact that she even looks for him to follow. She does not demand, hell she doesn't even ask it. But he wants to. He wants to follow, by choice. She turns and he finds himself turning as well so that in the distance between them they are head on as the sky opens up. It falls with a fury he knows all to well, the thunder like an angry god as lightning splits the dark with it's fist. And yet all he can see is her tilting to her head to the heavens and feeling the rain upon her face. The current seems to swell, causing the waters to rise at the downpour. And in this moment he knows that just maybe he can be free, to see what she sees in the rain.
And then he is there, standing before her and yet he doesn't even remember moving. There was no faltering in the water as before it is as he had glided, as if he hunted. Orange eyes are locked upon her throat. To him that means there is a touch of trust there. Just a sliver and so he rewards himself by giving in. As he whispers so close, "Your power far outweighs the river.." Timid words from his bold tongue as his own head soon tilts, eyes closing as he just feels. In this moment he thinks of nothing else but the water that rolls from his scarred face down. As if it is cleansing him, washing away his sins from mind. As he hopes that on this day that he has found a friend in the female that seems to have given him more than he has even had, by just her presence alone. For once all he can feel is warmth, when the world is cold.
Jericho. six - no mate - no imprint - nowhere |