a place to belong, that was all she had ever wanted. and when she looks into his eyes, opposites they may be, this breaker of chains recognises the desolation that devours the north. the flames were damning, though frost burns far greater than any fire she had ever felt. dragons did not bode well with snow, though she finds herself in these strange lands, fighting a war that was told in old tales to keep children in their beds at night.
caught within her throat is a sigh, hitching within her windpipe, though he steadies her breath alone by the way he looks at her. home, it was a strange notion, a place she had not yet found on this side of the sea. she cannot help but wonder, what would viserys have done? left with no family, stolen away from the place she had been born, there is a sense of serenity that she sees within stígandr. ❝ tell me more of your mother, i wish i had been so fortunate as to have known mine. ❞
@vargir.