( closed ) | to lead me back home from this place

[fuga]

Character(s): Lauralae and Dany
Status: Closed
Location(s): Around Didymos
Date(s) A handful of days after the Pit
About: Dragon moms!!
Warnings: N/A

Lauralae had never felt it necessary to seek someone out before.

The people she chose to spend time with, as limited as they were, had always been somewhat easy to find. Either it was Myr, settled in her temple rooms, or Aramas, lurking in his gardens, his house, smiling and wavering when she came close. Finding someone new, someone she only knows by whispers of name and a position as someone much like herself is a more difficult challenge for her to face.

Tracking is something she is used to, at least, and she does her best to seek out the woman she had seen in the pit. Blonde hair, tall enough, perhaps limping or resting on one side due to her wound, the shoulder injury. If she had died she would have been brought back to life at the same time; that's enough for her to know that Daenerys would likely still be around Didymos. The weight of the bag at her side is heavy and knowing what lies inside makes her more nervous than she might have been before, twitchy as she avoids the crowds around her, making noises and sounds about the shadow they had seen.

She knows what that shadow was. Lauralae knows; she had seen it. Nothing will make her speak, however.

Wandering around gives her enough of an idea of where people might go, however, and that helps guide her towards where she might be able to find Daenerys. A message is sent to her, by Rav'ahm's leg, asking to meet her near the outskirts of the city, signed with a 'L' and the shape of an egg - little else. She hopes the other woman will recognise it for what it is and come to her.

Settled down, quiet, Lauralae sits petting the head of her raven quietly, whispering to him. He speaks back in her mind and she leans close, nudging her forehead against his, one hand resting lightly on her bag.

Comments

[dorzalta]

And yet again, there's a bit of surprise which accompanies that answer. Pleasantly unexpected, really. To not belong to anyone or anything...

What she'd have given for that when Viserys sold her to Drogo. Now, she would rather belong. Now, with her people dead (save Jon), it was like being cast adrift in a cold and foreign place. Beginning anew, that's what this is.

"That can be lonely. Not always, but sometimes," she adds, eyeing Lauralae from the corner of her eye. She's silent for a beat, looking ahead again. Every now and then, pointed ears twitch when a sound rises above the hum of their surroundings: a bird, a twig snapping, the chatter of civilization. "Are you still waiting?"

[fuga]

Lauralae barely notices any reaction from Dany; she is focussed on her egg, on her own confusion, on the twisting thoughts in her mind that the other woman is inspiring. It takes her a moment to look over again, to actually pay attention and attempt to listen to what the words are.

Hesitating, she squeezes the straps of her bag, pale skin going all the more white for it before she turns her attention back up to the woman at her side, taller and more regal in some ways. Lauralae is not cowed by her lack of height - she knows she can seem taller than she is.

"I was not lonely. I had the trees and my hunts. I lived." Almost eight decades of isolation. She had grown accustomed to her own mind. She struggles with her words, but - Dany has an egg. Dany has been kind. There is something there. "Perhaps. Perhaps waking from death three times is the sign I was waiting for."