[ Dany's missed his whimsical way of speaking. He is master of words, indeed, though there is always a glimmer of truth awaiting her if she wishes. Perhaps she wouldn't like it so well if her need was urgent, but they are ensconced in Diasbaile's dark beauty now, and the world doesn't burn.

And if he thinks their words are protected here, she believes him. ]

It was battle, [ she tells him, her feet making near whisper-soft sounds upon the stone as they climb, ] yet at first, I could not see my enemies. The maze of fire had burned away nearly all, but still, the flames reached heights I have never seen. [ She can taste the ashes upon her tongue as she speaks of it; never before had smoke troubled her so. ] Only magic can produce such fire, surely? And I--I was frightened, [ she admits. The word is not one she uses lightly. ]

Beyond the fire, I saw the fight. [ There's a pause as she thinks how best to describe it. She's unaccustomed to recounting her dreams to anyone; they have only ever belonged to her, and her alone. ] My enemies were beasts, Loki. Beasts made of metal, moving, destroying a great fortress. They would not stop.

[ And she hadn't stopped screaming. ]