[She looks at him now, still sick with grief and attempting to corral it in spite of herself. Daenerys searches his face for -- something. She is not sure what she is looking for, herself. All those things he says, they're all very nice to hear. But they're not true.
Or, at least, they hadn't been true. And yet she wants them so badly to be so.]
You speak of things -- places incomprehensible to me, like all of this. Things we never shared.
[She gestures around them -- the cells they sit in, the distance between them.]
How am I to know they have not done something to you, in an effort to get to me?
no subject
[She looks at him now, still sick with grief and attempting to corral it in spite of herself. Daenerys searches his face for -- something. She is not sure what she is looking for, herself. All those things he says, they're all very nice to hear. But they're not true.
Or, at least, they hadn't been true. And yet she wants them so badly to be so.]
You speak of things -- places incomprehensible to me, like all of this. Things we never shared.
[She gestures around them -- the cells they sit in, the distance between them.]
How am I to know they have not done something to you, in an effort to get to me?