agoge | >>FROM:@AEGONNER

Consider me truly surprised that the dragons weren't the end of the matter. [It's a messy business, in the end. That does have a patina of the familiar, the gods knew men could be fools over successions and crowns.]

Knowing history is always a useful thing. Consider me pleased in his place, it's fascinating to hear.

[Chiron pauses, before asking his next question. It could be a bit too personal.] May I ask who, if it isn't a private thing?

I started with a little less than half the men Bolton had. If the Knights of the Vale hadn't come at Sansa's call, I would be dead. If I'd had to fight him sooner, I would have been between him and Stannis Baratheon, and I would likely have had little choice but to bend the knee to Stannis, if I'd lived long enough to do it.

[He almost tells her that his father had thought that Stannis was the true king after Robert's death, but those don't seem like words she needs or would want to hear. It doesn't matter now that both men are dead and he and she are far away from home.

And there's more in his list of ifs... for example, if he'd never been Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he might not have taken seven stab wounds to the chest and abdomen.

In the meantime, he likes the way she toys with his hair.]

I'd choose you any day.

Oh, my greatest hero was the Young Dragon. Another Targaryen, Daeron I... the real dragons were dead by then, but a three-headed dragon is the Targaryen sigil. He conquered Dorne, the southernmost of the Kingdoms, when he was fourteen years old, but he only held it for a fortnight.

He lost sixty thousand men. Not a hero now.

[His expression becomes thoughtful again, lips pressed lightly together and brows drawing down, and his next words come out more slowly.]

You get older, and it's less the men in stories and more the men you've known who you look up to, at least if you've been lucky enough to know good ones. I have been. The Young Dragon was brave, but no one should lose that many men, least of all in a boy's failed attempt to win glory.

Edited (minor improvements.) 2018-01-24 04:28 (UTC)

No, they armed themselves. Couldn't tell you why they turned on us.

[That's what happens when artificial intelligence gets away from you.]

What was their purpose before they armed themselves?

I wouldn't say all dragons are inherently good or evil where I come from, but an Archdemon? Absolutely. It's not a dragon per se, but that is the form it takes and it's purpose is to lead an army of darkspawn to corrupt and destroy the world.

Granted Dragons in general are...very dangerous, they may not be good or evil, but once a High Dragon has reached it's clutching period it's two consecutive weeks of what-better-way-to-ruin-your-day mayhem. When they are locked in their own territories it is fine, when they decide to leave their territory forests and entire villages are shaken to their foundations leaving hundreds dead or displaced.

Though I would be interested in knowing how a person becomes a mother of dragons.

Your old gods sound just as ambigious as our old gods.

I wish our giants were as helpful as the ones in your world seem to be, the only giants I've ever known were malconnnnnen creatures happy to throw bouldes at me or jump on me. Yours seem to possess intelligence.

I'm sorry he died, by the way.

Ah, legends are steeped in truth for better or worse, there are some things I believed legend as well that are not quite so legend. Funny how that works.

It varied. There's still a lot we don't know about what happened. On some level, it was the programming centers that did it. Started pumping out mechanical soldiers whose only purpose was to exterminate us.

Feats beyond one's age always encourages the term to be bandied around. Regardless of failure, it is an impressive thing to have accomplished. A shame it ended in a catestrophic loss.

[It is pointless when there is death for the glory of only one.]

Are your nobles raised with the concept of κλέος?

[He quickly adds:] In my time, it means accomplishing great tasks so that others will hear of your works and add to your renown.

There have been many times over the past year when I have known tomorrow would indeed bring battle but did not always have the luxury of fine details. Before attempting sleep it becomes routine to check supplies, to make sure there are potions and poultices prepared for the inevitable injuries. Sometimes I have thought about what I would do in worst-case scenarios: toxic blood or poisoned blades, magical nullification, my companions falling at the least opportune time.

Occasionally I think of things I would prefer to do instead.

You lead men in battle then? It sounds as though you were at war even before joining this cause.

There are so few in the south, it makes me wonder if any exist at all. [It's said softly behind him, as she follows as closely as she can. He's quicker than she is and she simply feels so tired, even in meeting her goodbrother here. It keeps her movements from matching him in energy and speed.] What was it like at the Wall? You hear a number of stories, but never know if they are true.

[But this was a small speculation compared to the larger matter of their meeting. He hadn't heard about Robb's will, he didn't know that he should be king. He said he was made Lord Commander, had he turned it down in some show of Stark honor? Both he and Robb had an abundance of it.]

No, he had no sons of his own, but he had you. He wanted you to be king, if something happened to him. He told me and I think he told Lady Stark as well. He was supposed to write out a will and it was to be taken to you, but I don't know what happened to it, only that he intended to have one written.

[ She sighs, pressing a kiss to his hair. ]

I prefer it the way it's happened thus far. Not that you suffered, I'd rather you didn't. [ To have Jeyne's version come to play likely would have had him dead or worse (if bending the knee to the man who would have killed her as a babe can be worse), by the time she finally came to Westeros. ] But these things have happened, and they're done. Let the version of her world continue separately.

[ She hopes, either way, that she and Jon find each other in that world, as well.

What he says has her smiling. Her fingers never cease. ]

Not us?

[That pulls him out of his reverie more fully, and he glances up at her with a soft chuckle.]

Us, then.

[But...]

Suffering. [He has suffered, but he isn't sure he likes being seen as someone who's suffered... on the other hand, it means she understands in a way that almost no one really has before. And he likes them understanding each other.] No more than you did.

It sounds much better.

[ Her voice remains soft, and it lessens the tease in her words with something genuine, as well. ]

Mn, I would argue that point slightly debatable, but no less true. [ She sounds noncommittal. Dying should certainly be reason enough for ample suffering. ] You realize this is why 'us' is much better than 'you' or 'me.'

[ Now she's just being silly for the sake of it. ]

[He looks at her more softly, half-smiling.]

There's more than one reason... any number of reasons.

[But "us" is better. "Together" is better. There is little that either of them could attempt to do on any kind of grand scale that wouldn't be enhanced by having the other's help, support, or advice... and it's not hard to agree with her, though he expects that may not always be the case. Even then, finding a way to that agreement may clarify their ideas on matters: if they're very lucky, peace and unity between them might be peace in the seven kingdoms. For now, it just makes their day to day lives much more pleasant than they otherwise would be.]

We ought to think about supper.

[ He earns the hint of a pleased look. Before she rolls away, the mention of supper drawing her mind elsewhere, she drags her index finger down along the scar above his brow, leaning in to press a kiss there. ]

We only need one, but I prefer far more with us.

[ She'd slipped his shirt on whilst they'd lounged in his bed and he communicated with their allies. It creeps up as she scoots off his bed, dropping back down with the weight of gravity tugging on it. The tail end of it brushes a little past mid-thigh on her, and she's half tempted to walk about simply like this: hair loose, in his shirt, with nothing but her boots on with it. ]

Have you exhausted yourself of the wonderment of battle?

[And after she kisses his brow, he tilts his head and cranes his neck to catch her jaw with a kiss of his own.]

I'd say I'm exhausted, right enough.

[That could be taken any number of ways, and most of them would be correct, but the training they've been undergoing is draining.

He eyes her attire, something that tempts him to stay where they are, then raises his eyebrows and draws down one corner of his mouth.]

The cowl I found might work as a skirt.

[He refers to the neck wrap he'd picked up from the clothes that were on offer that first day back at BASE.]

Or it may be too short.

When the Targaryens took Dorne and kept it, they took it another way... a marriage alliance, with the first Daenerys and a Dornish prince. Not the Daenerys who's here now.

[He doesn't understand the word κλέος as it's said to him, but as it's explained, he absorbs it, nods, and considers it before speaking again.]

Not in the North, though there are heroes. The southrons have their knightly virtues, winning glory in tournaments and battle and such, but there are few tournaments or knights in the North, because so few follow the Seven. When Northmen fight, we want to win and to live.

Most Northern boys seem to want to be heroes of some sort when they're boys, but it's a childish thing. I did, because I'm a bastard. There was small glory to be found in the Night's Watch, as it happened, yet the Watch is necessary to the safety of the Realm. Most have forgotten that.

Who controlled the programming centers? Was no one watching over them, or were those who were watching them untrustworthy?

[ That sneaky kiss earns him an actual smile. Less reserved when her defenses have been lowered, no thanks to their trainings. ]

Not exhausted enough to ignore food, though.

[ She's already in the process of pulling on a pair of pants--her pants, altered in many ways to allow a snug fit. ]

I'd rather the pants, [ she murmurs, tucking her feet into her boots. One day, she might explain why she prefers pants, even when wearing skirts. It's not something she'll offer straight away now, however, lest he happens to ask. ] Though I imagine we can use it as a belt, so I'm not blown away in a sharp breeze.

[ Stepping closer to him. One step, two steps. Fingers tucking into the waist of his pants. Eyes meeting his. ]

Lest you need this returned.

[He's never really been sure why she wears breeches as a matter of habit, but he likes it: it makes her seem prepared, capable, doesn't give the lie that she's helpless, or make her more helpless than she would want to be... as more voluminous skirts might. Maybe it's just that they're practical for riding a dragon, but that doesn't explain why she continues to prefer them here.]

I'll take it back from you later.

[He attempts to sound flirtatious, but he doesn't quite make it there, not with the backs of her fingers against his belly and her eyes looking into his.]

Time for more rotting supper.

[His face twists to the side in mock dismay -- well, not entirely "mock," but the irony is intended.]

[That makes him snort out a soft chuckle, as his mind races to try to take in the idea of being King in the North years before the Northerners had had the same idea on their own.]

Cold, my lady, more than anything. Full of thieves and rapers and killers and some good men who had little choice but to go, and some good men who made the choice. When I first went there, they were fighting the wildlings; they'd forgotten that they were there to fight the White Walkers. Now they fight the White Walkers with the Wildlings.

[After a pause, he adds, gruff,]

I never received it. So many men died at the Red Wedding, they might have lost any will he left. Or the Lannisters might have destroyed it.

It doesn't matter. [No, in reality, it's very significant, only he hasn't yet taken it in as fully as he might.] Stannis Baratheon came up to Castle Black not long after Robb died. He might have had me killed if I hadn't bent the knee to him. The Watch is meant to take no part in the wars of the realm, to bow to no king in particular, but he tried to draw loyalty out of me nonetheless.

[How ironic that Stannis had offered to make him Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell -- and would have taken it away just as easily if Robb had done it first.]

Self-sufficient. Easy questions to ask in hindsight.

I do. I have in the past and I will again. A great war is upon us at home.

[Everything up until now has just been a battle, not a war, though Hardhome was probably the first sally. There are many, many things he would rather do than fight, but that doesn't matter: fighting is what it will take for everyone to live... him, Daenerys, his sisters and his brother and his friends, his people, all the nobles and smallfolk he's ever met or failed to meet. It all rests on his readiness to give the Night King a hell of a fight.]

You put your faith in what you can see and feel, but that includes magic. What sort? Only healing? That's not magic where I come from, but if it were, it would serve a great need.

How long ago was that particular conquest? I presume the contemporary's name is in reference to this particular ancestor.

[Direct line or not, it's within the same family.

Chiron shifts in his seat, and listens carefully to Jon's reply. It's an interesting divide, and one that seems to hinge on survival versus having a certain amount of time to devote to battle for the sake of it.

It's a matter that didn't exist in his own time, and yet that kind of personal glory still manifested.]

I see. I assume that your south has more lesiure time to devote to these tournaments and battles then, whereas where you grew up has to be more focused on practical matters?

[He wants confirmation, if nothing else.]

....I suppose the distance of your wall has something to do with where it stands in memory?

It always is. For us, people forgot what the watchers were supposed to be watching for.

>>FROM:@AEGONNER

The noise I just made

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I'm so sorry for the wait! no hard feelings if this rolls in too late for you

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