Jorah had always felt a certain rush, seeing her children--as though he were watching her dreams soar up into the sky, hard-scaled and impossible to shoot down. They were capable of carrying all of her hopes with them, strong and determined, and though he'd felt uneasy before, surely, back when it had been hard for her to help them grow, back when they had fed without reason or respect, he had never been fearful of them harming him, and had never worried they would harm her, either. They were truly her children--she was truly their mother.
Drogon and Rhaegal looked brilliant, flying out over the sea, where their wings made ocean spray mist up into the morning sky, a kaleidoscope of colors arcing through the rainbow of the water. He found himself squinting to follow the path of their flight, for a moment, before he realized that left one unaccounted for: Viserion, lounging out in the sand, looking a bit pleased with himself for securing a moment of his mother's attention alone.
Jorah chuckled a little--he let Daenerys rush to meet him, but he took his time, approaching the dragon with careful, measured steps that spoke of doing no harm to either of them. It was an honor, to be offered to touch one: it truly meant that their rift had been repaired, that Daenerys trusted him enough to let him touch and rub and be around her children.
Viserion eyed him, at first, and then let out a soft sound--Jorah looked sheepish when he reached up to rub his palm heartily down the bridge of his wide snout.
"Have they, now," Jorah said with a rumble of amusement, but Viserion was too pleased by the attention to answer. "I have missed them, too. Almost as much as you."
With a grin at Daenerys, he gave Viserion one last rub between the nostrils before he let his hand drop away.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-10-01 01:00 pm (UTC)Drogon and Rhaegal looked brilliant, flying out over the sea, where their wings made ocean spray mist up into the morning sky, a kaleidoscope of colors arcing through the rainbow of the water. He found himself squinting to follow the path of their flight, for a moment, before he realized that left one unaccounted for: Viserion, lounging out in the sand, looking a bit pleased with himself for securing a moment of his mother's attention alone.
Jorah chuckled a little--he let Daenerys rush to meet him, but he took his time, approaching the dragon with careful, measured steps that spoke of doing no harm to either of them. It was an honor, to be offered to touch one: it truly meant that their rift had been repaired, that Daenerys trusted him enough to let him touch and rub and be around her children.
Viserion eyed him, at first, and then let out a soft sound--Jorah looked sheepish when he reached up to rub his palm heartily down the bridge of his wide snout.
"Have they, now," Jorah said with a rumble of amusement, but Viserion was too pleased by the attention to answer. "I have missed them, too. Almost as much as you."
With a grin at Daenerys, he gave Viserion one last rub between the nostrils before he let his hand drop away.