To epitomize the world in which we live, we must first step back and remember that we are flawed.
But to understand the world in which we live, we must recognize that man realizes just this: the good exploit the flaws and the wicked jeopardize their...
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Tyrion stares with complete and unadulterated horror as his ears ring with the screaming of a man and son in the hearth of Drogon's flames beneath that hill outlying the capital. It all seems to have gone too fast from the whistling of the arriving blizzard—hours ago—to the end of the Tarly line—Drogon injured, Dany saved, Jaime saved, Tarlys dead. He darts a look at Gabrielle for her own impressions at the sight before them, but finds himself at a loss as she looks rather unphased at the deaths of these two men—standing to her feet and moving closer to Dany whose eyes waver on her with something akin to new loyalty and friendship.
"The fire will keep the men from rising once Winter comes," Gabrielle silently commends the woman's judgement—and Tyrion wants to beat himself when dealing with the rash decisions of these two women. But the two pay Tyrion no mind to his own opinion—knowing it—as Dany nods and gestures for Gabrielle to follow her down the hill and followed by the Dothraki leaders.
"We need to return immediately. Back-up Lannister forces will arrive soon, and I do not want to lose more men today," Dany relates to Gabrielle before barking something at the nearest Dothraki who nods and leaves the two to themselves. Silently following after the woman, Gabrielle's skin warms with the returned sun and she barely manages to notice Drogon's head fall towards them as exhaustion takes her heart and tries to ease her under. But Dany turns back, unfinished, "Ride with me."
And suddenly, she's awake at the sudden offer as her eyes widen in comical shock and then move to stare at the disgruntled dragon before her, "Your Grace, I do not think..."
"You helped him twice today," Dany responds as she climbs onto his shoulder, "Dragons do not easily forget debts."
Gabrielle just stares at her for a moment, wondering what she truly has to lose but a few days sleep on a boat. So, sighing beneath her breath, she nods slowly and carefully follows Dany onto Drogon, taking a seat near the Queen and grasping the horns lining Drogon's spine, praying to any god that will listen to save her from this as they fly off in return to Dragonstone.
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Jon offers his hand for her as she quickly moves off the back of the large lizard, her clothes showing a great extent of burns but her skin still shining porcelain from beneath the ragged cloth. Meeting her blue eyes, he grins slightly as she refuses his hand and jumps to the ground beside the three wolves, though letting him place a warm arm against her back and directing her away from the dragon that flies off once Dany dismounts. She looks at them but quickly averts her eyes to the brothers on the nearest hills, "They're beautiful, aren't they?"
"It wasn't the word I was thinking of," Jon responds with a lost look in his brown eye, that such a creature would accept his touch—"but, yes, they are. Gorgeous beasts."
"They're not beasts to me. No matter how big they get or how terrifying to everyone else, they're my children," Dany implores of his language, turning around to gaze upon the direwolves and woman between them. "A bit like your wolves."
