[ Four moons ago, if anyone had told her she'd be walking upon air and trusting the God of Chaos with her life, she would have thought it a riddle even Quaithe could not have spun. At the very least, she would not have thought the meaning literal.
One side of her is now flush against him, both arms wrapped around his waist for stability, and she realizes with a chill entirely unrelated to the temperatures around them that she is leaping onto nothing at all. She will not look back, but she does look below them, thinking that she must. A dragon does not fear to look upon heights. ]
But the clouds are all wet! How can that be? [ she protests over the wind, the child in her disappointed, though she does laugh in shock as another cold puff soaks their faces. They had always looked feather-soft from below. ] All the tales are lies.
[ Drogon's ambush on Viserion was successful, and the two have locked wings, spiraling down out of sight for a moment before rising again, flapping at each other and snapping. The waves of air sent from the play buffet against them both, worsening the cold against her cheeks. ] Be gentle, Drogon! [ she scolds, shivering. ] Rhaegal, to me!
[ And the green dragon comes, wheeling around to bank back toward them, bronze eyes gleaming. Let us see how dragonfire meets these clouds. When he has reached them, Dany points to a particularly wide, sprawling cloud below. ]
Dracarys! [ she commands, and at the sound of the word they like best, Viserion and Drogon disengage and watch as a blast of orange and yellow flame scorches toward the helpless array of water droplets, sending billows of hot steam into the air. Slayer of Lies, Slayer of Clouds. Dany giggles, the dropoff beneath them momentarily forgotten, and her arm is rejoined around Loki's waist. ]
Will you run with me, slowly? Perhaps they will give chase. [ A race they would lose, she fears, but she is curious to play with her dragons another way. ]
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One side of her is now flush against him, both arms wrapped around his waist for stability, and she realizes with a chill entirely unrelated to the temperatures around them that she is leaping onto nothing at all. She will not look back, but she does look below them, thinking that she must. A dragon does not fear to look upon heights. ]
But the clouds are all wet! How can that be? [ she protests over the wind, the child in her disappointed, though she does laugh in shock as another cold puff soaks their faces. They had always looked feather-soft from below. ] All the tales are lies.
[ Drogon's ambush on Viserion was successful, and the two have locked wings, spiraling down out of sight for a moment before rising again, flapping at each other and snapping. The waves of air sent from the play buffet against them both, worsening the cold against her cheeks. ] Be gentle, Drogon! [ she scolds, shivering. ] Rhaegal, to me!
[ And the green dragon comes, wheeling around to bank back toward them, bronze eyes gleaming. Let us see how dragonfire meets these clouds. When he has reached them, Dany points to a particularly wide, sprawling cloud below. ]
Dracarys! [ she commands, and at the sound of the word they like best, Viserion and Drogon disengage and watch as a blast of orange and yellow flame scorches toward the helpless array of water droplets, sending billows of hot steam into the air. Slayer of Lies, Slayer of Clouds. Dany giggles, the dropoff beneath them momentarily forgotten, and her arm is rejoined around Loki's waist. ]
Will you run with me, slowly? Perhaps they will give chase. [ A race they would lose, she fears, but she is curious to play with her dragons another way. ]