[After that, Daenerys goes quiet, like she does not know what to do with Rey's condolences. Nobody had ever offered them at the time -- it seemed like a different time, a different life. Jorah had been focused on trying to rescue her, hadn't cared for her pain. The khalasar had largely reviled her, blaming her for Drogo's death. She'd needed to move past it on her own, much like everything else.
She finally lifts her hand from Rey's skin, the glow dying away. The worst of the job is done -- now all that remains is the scabs that have formed between her breasts.]
It was a long time ago. A different time.
[She offers an appreciative smile that doesn't quite reach her violet eyes or her tone of voice. There is something hard and icy there, a wall that doesn't seem like to come down anytime soon.]
He would not have known what to do with a place like this.
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She finally lifts her hand from Rey's skin, the glow dying away. The worst of the job is done -- now all that remains is the scabs that have formed between her breasts.]
It was a long time ago. A different time.
[She offers an appreciative smile that doesn't quite reach her violet eyes or her tone of voice. There is something hard and icy there, a wall that doesn't seem like to come down anytime soon.]
He would not have known what to do with a place like this.