[PRP]To the brink and back again (Daenerys x Ignazio)

[Faithofthefallen]

The last streaks of sunlight were fading in the western sky when Ignazio finally awoke from his rest. Sheltered under a rocky outcropping, the stallion blinked his sleepy bloodshot eyes and watched as the fiery globe slowly sank beneath the horizon. The heat would fade as the night wore on but the desert was still wickedly hot, as the air cooled, heat bled from the blazing sands in vapory billows, he would wait until it was cooler before he continued his long trek back to the Debbani herdlands. His sister was gone, his father was the only family he had left. They had grown distant over the years, Ignazio hadn't even spoken to his father in a long time, but he was still blood, and right now Ignazio really wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere.

He closed his eyes for what felt like only a few moments but when opened them it was fully dark and the chill tugged at him. Wearily he opened his eyes, trying to focus them without much success as he struggled to his feet. He had found too little water and too little food in the last few days, his body was breaking down on him from dehydration and malnutrition. Ignazio was born in the desert, he knew all the symptoms, he also knew he didn't have much time left. If there was water nearby, he should have been able to find it, he was familiar with the telltale signs, but there was nothing, His parched throat burned and his tongue felt thick and heavy as he tried and failed to wet his cracked lips. Bone deep weariness dragged at him like heavy weights as he concentrated on placing one hoof in front of the other, the sand sucking at him with each rolling step. His heart thudded, his head spun, he carefully began picking his way down a sandy dune but before he was even halfway down the sand gave way beneath him and he slid with it. He scrambled and struggled, but he was too weak and the force of the pull was too strong, his head collided with a boulder at the bottom with a sickening crunch that made him feel ill and woozy. Ignazio closed his grimy eyes, partially buried in the sea of sand and relaxed into the exhaustion that was sweeping over him. His strength was gone, he knew very well he wouldn't be waking up from the sleep that was taking him. Goodbye Kynreeve was his last thought, he cast it into the night, knowing his sister would never know what had become of him. Perhaps that was for the best, he only wished he didn't have to die alone.

Roniel Targaryen

 

[Revolutionary Roniel]

"The desert truly is vast," thought Daenerys, staring out into the seemingly empty wasteland around her. Supposedly they drew near to the end of their desert trek and Daenerys couldn't wait to walk upon grass again. The blowing sands had colored her white coat to a shade of dusty gray and she could feel sand scraping between her scales with each step she took. She longed to immerse herself in water and let herself be cool and clean. From the faces of her herd members, she knew she was not alone in this desire.

"At least our journey here wasn't in vain," she thought, looking back at their two newest members. They had recruited the large stallion Rallie from a herd of warriors, and the second, Ser Jorah, was an old friend that she felt blessed and delighted to see once more. Rallie was currently wandering about to one side of the herd, seemingly keeping an eye out for danger on that side of their column. He seemed to pause for a moment, then his voice reached Daenerys' ears.

"Your grace, there is a soquili here! He doesn't look well."


Blinking, Daenerys hurried to the warrior's side, moving around a sand dune so she could see what had caught his attention. There was indeed a soquili, some sort of flutter stallion, and she wasn't immediately certain if he was even alive or not. "Can you hear me?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. She knew all too well of the desert's devastations. It might be too late for this one.

Faithofthefallen

 

[Faithofthefallen]

Ignazio's skin was baking. His head ached and spun. His heart pounded and his breath came in shallow panting gasps, he knew he didn't have long now. As soon as the sun rose again he had started deteriorating rapidly, before long his suffering would be over and he could rest.

Movement nearby caused the sands around him to shift, running in tiny rivulets down the dunes over his back and face. This would have been a welcome relief from the unforgiving sun's glare had the sand not been so hot itself that it felt like burning coals were being pressed against his flesh. He was feverish, but not sweaty, he had stopped sweating hours ago, the dry wind billowed around him, tearing at his hair and garments, but it could not cool him. He seemed to hear voices nearby, a low buzzing murmur at the edges of his awareness, yet another cruel mirage taunting him with thoughts of rescue, of escape from this hell. Ignazio had hoped he would die before the sunrise, when the desert was still cool and dark, but he had had no such luck. The stallion peeled his eyes open for a minute, blinking them, trying to clear them of the gritty dust but the effort was futile. Squeezing them closed again, he would have cried, had he any tears left.

A few minutes, or a few hours later, he couldn't tell; the sand around his head moved and he risked a glance up. His eyes set upon an elegantly horned face. She was ice and fire, magnificent, and terrifying, and beautiful to behold, but her amethyst eyes were kind as she gazed down at him. Another mirage? But she looked so solid, so real. How could his mind create a face he'd never seen before, even in its delirium? Most of his hallucinations had been of Kynreeve, his father, or Vaniania. She was saying something, but his mind was so disordered he couldn't make any sense of her words. Kill me he wanted to say, but his tongue was too swollen and thick to produce the words. He settled for simply gazing at her steadily with his green eyes. He saw others behind her although he couldn't make out their faces. He hadn't wanted to die alone, but an audience wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. Ignazio wished he could tell them his name, these people were the only ones who would ever know what had become of him and they had no idea who he was. He coughed weakly instead, trying to clear his throat of dust.

Roniel Targaryen

 

[Revolutionary Roniel]

He was alive! Swiftly, Daenerys turned to look back at Rallie. "Bring water! Get the others!" Rallie ran back to the herd at a gallop, leaving Daenerys alone with the stallion. She didn't think she'd need a guard for this one. He was alive, but just barely. The water it would take to rehydrate them would undoubtedly make them need to rethink their own water rationing, but that was a far less pressing problem.

"If you can hear me..." She moved closer to the stallion, seeing him straining to focus on her face. "Know that we're going to help you. We have water and food." Thinking, she remembered back to the usdia Ostara. "What is your name?" She hoped he could speak enough to give her that. If they were too late to save him, at least they could remember him as they did the fallen usdia.

Faithofthefallen

 

[Faithofthefallen]

One word stood paramount in Ignazio's mind as, at the sound of the mare's sharp command, the soquili with her began to buzz about in a rush of activity, 'water.' It seemed to good to be true. The stallion was perilously close to death's door, had been hanging at the cusp for what seemed like forever. Trapped and miserable within his failing body, unable to die as he wished. In what seemed a cruel trick of fate he felt himself slipping away even as help arrived. He struggled internally, he had never before noticed the tenuous bonds between spirit and body, but he could feel them now, thin and fraying. He poured every ounce of strength left into this struggle for survival.

At the very least, he didn't want to die thirsty. It was so hard to concentrate on the world around him, he had concentrated so hard on blocking out his senses throughout this battle, the heat, his thirst, his pain. Trying to reclaim what he had thrown away was more difficult than it should have been and his surroundings seemed more like a dream than anything else. He focused on her, she was so vibrantly alive and real, none of the others with her stood out so clearly in his vision. They were too far away, blurry blobs that barely registered in his consciousness, so he focused on her face, her features, as a way to fight the blackness creeping across the edges of his vision, fighting to snuff him out like a candle.

His name.... He had one once, he knew. How curious to lose the word that had summed up every aspect of himself since birth in the end. He could remember his family, his friends, his lovers, it seemed as though every small moment of his life was picked out within his mind in exquisite detail, but that one small word, his name, was as illusive as smoke.
Ruthlessly he poured through the images, it had to be here somewhere, the seconds ticked by. He wanted to close his eyes to concentrate, but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to open them again, and would be truly trapped within himself. There. He had it, "Ignazio," he responded with a triumphant little smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

Roniel Targaryen

 

[Revolutionary Roniel]

"Ignazio," she repeated, committing it to memory. A quick glance over her shoulder showed her movement in the herd. It looked like several soquili were bringing water over, though they couldn't rush while carrying such a load. She turned back to Ignazio then, still wondering if she might be witness to another death soon. It was good that he was able to understand and speak his name, but somehow she doubted that said much for his chances.

"Ignazio," she said again. "My name is Daenerys." In a rare gesture, she left out her last name when introducing herself. It somehow felt wrong to use her title to put herself above the suffering stallion. She could hear the sound of approaching hooves behind her. It wouldn't be long before they would be able to give him some relief.

Faithofthefallen

 

[Faithofthefallen]

"Daenerys" he repeated with a little nod, feeling the need to repeat her to show he heard what she was saying. The words flowed a little easier now although he could still feel himself slipping away they were like a bridge between his fevered mind and the world around him. His head was throbbing, his legs cramping, the pain was enough to make him gasp. It hurt to inhabit his body again, a sudden surge of pain twisted his gut and he turned his head to hack and heave. Nothing came up, there was nothing left, but the nausea and light headedness was a torture all its own. He hated being seen like this but he was afraid they would leave him to this death. He had always thought he would have a clean death, something adventurous or heroic, not a slow wasting one. Gods help him, he just wanted the torment to be over. "Please," he gasped when he could finally catch his breath, "Kill me before you go, don't leave me like this. This is not the death I want." he pleaded, "End it swiftly, a quick strike to the head should be enough. I don't have much with me, but you can take it all and my spirit will be at peace with the payment, for a quick death."

Roniel Targaryen

 

[Revolutionary Roniel]

Daenerys felt her own stomach clench to see Ignazio wretch and heave, but that was not nearly so painful as what came next. He begged to be killed. Had she ever been asked anything quite so disturbing in her life? She bit back her initial reaction, knowing that an outburst might distress Ignazio further, even if she meant well. She forced herself to regain her calm and keep her composure. On second thought, his request wasn't so strange. To die tortured by heat and alone in the desert was a horrifying fate. Yes, she could imagine why he might long for escape... but she wasn't ready to give up hope just yet.

"We will not leave you here to suffer," she told Ignazio, holding her head down close enough to him that her mane pooled on the ground near his throat. "We will give you waters and our healers will do all that they can. We may still save you yet, so do not throw away your life so hastily." Her voice lifted with a hint of amusement, though her tone was still grave. "If you are beyond their care... we will see to it that your pain is still ended."

There. A promise of mercy if salvation could not be achieved. She was no longer a filly. She had seen illness and she had seen death. It would do her no good to shy away from the subject and pretend like it was inescapable.

Faithofthefallen

 

[Faithofthefallen]

Ignazio nodded once, respect filling his gaze. "Thank you," his words were simple but his gratitude shown in his eyes. She hid it well, but he could see that she had not wanted to accede. The fact that Daenerys did so despite her own feelings on the matter showed great strength of character in the stallion's opinion. He enjoyed dealing with people who were capable of making tough decisions. At the mention of water, he swallowed convulsively, subconsciously trying to work moisture up into his barren mouth. He could hear it sloshing somewhere behind her, at least he thought he did. His mind had been playing tricks on him for hours now. Ignazio fervently prayed that this, that Daenerys was not more of the same. Still, his gut told him that she was as real as the ground he lay on. "My life has always been precious to me." he confided, his voice grave as he met her troubled eyes, feeling calmer now that her promise had been secured. "I would not ask you to take it lightly. I can see that you respect life as well, that is good, I know you will not take mine on a whim. I will trust you to do what you feel is best." He was putting his fate in her hands. He would suffer on as long as she wanted him to try, or pass quickly, based solely on her judgement. He felt he could trust her. They had just met. Ignazio had no reason to place his faith so wholly in one stranger, but he could sense her authority and compassion in the skill with which she commanded her own people, and in her bearing. Besides, what choice did he have? He had no strength to finish it himself. He would wait, after the deal had been struck he couldn't help but hunt with his eyes for the water she had mentioned, he wanted nothing more than to soothe the dreadful dryness that left him feel more like a desiccated husk than one of the living.

Roniel Targaryen

 

[Revolutionary Roniel]

"Rallie!" Daenerys sighed his name in relief as the large cerynei came up beside her. In his teeth he carried one of their drinking bowls, which he placed on the ground in front of the fallen Ignazio. "Fill it to the brim," Daenerys instructed him. Ignazio would need every last drop of it if he was going to recover.

The sound of water pouring into the bowl made Daenerys' throat prickle with thirst, even though she had drunk not too long ago. She longed for the day when they would reach fertile soil again and not have to parch between brief watering breaks.

"There you are," she told Ignazio as Rallie expertly leveled off the bowl. "We have enough water to give you as much as you need, so drink your fill."

Faithofthefallen

 

[Faithofthefallen]

It took concentrated effort of will to not guzzle the water as fast as he could manage. Ignazio knew from experience that doing so would likely only make him sick, which would be a waste. He took long sips, closing his eyes in elation and relief as the water soothed his parched throat. Had he been able, he would have cried at the long needed relief. Normally he would have grimaced at the taste of hot water but at that moment he had never had anything better. He was far from recovered, his legs were as weak as a newborn colts, but for the first time in what felt like years it seemed that he might survive this ordeal. He drank his fill and then took a long breath.

"I owe you my life." Simple, but heartfelt. His voice had gained a modicum of strength. "I thought I would die here, alone and forgotten in the desert, but you found me. For that, I can never repay you, but I aim to try."

Pain, its intensity was shocking. The water had cemented the tie between body and spirit, he was now fully aware of just how much he hurt. But beneath that pain was a determination born of desperation. He would heal, he would survive, and he would find a way to repay this benevolent stranger. His honor demanded it. Despite himself, Ignazio felt himself drifting off into sleep. His last vision was of a pair of hauntingly beautiful violet eyes before his own slid shut to begin the long work of healing his broken body.

Roniel Targaryen

Taaaag ;3 and time jump whenever you're ready!!

 

[Revolutionary Roniel]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As it turned out, their parched guest survived. Daenerys was glad for it. The herd had collectively held its breath as they wondered whether Ignazio would recover or succumb to his exposure. Even though he was a stranger, they had taken him into their charge and it would have been a sorrow to them all if he were to pass. They were all glad when he awakened and regained some of his strength, but they were not able to linger in the area long. It was the desert, after all, and they had to reach green lands again before their water ran out.

It had been a few days of travel since Ignazio had woken, and Daenerys felt chagrined to realize that she had barely spoken more than a word to him since. One of her dragons had acquired a slightly wild streak and she had spent the bulk of her time with their training, wanting to make certain that they did no harm to any of her followers or strangers they might encounter. There was that, and then there were talks with Roarke about water, talks with the scouts about the land ahead, talks with Ravindra about the state of their trading goods... She had many good reasons for being busy and neglecting their guest, but she felt strangely about it all the same.

It was evening now, the sun not quite set but low enough to not burn so hot. The herd had stopped for the day and Daenerys found herself with a rare moment of free time. Her dragons weren't even an issue, having flown off to hunt whatever hapless creatures lived in these wastelands. Finally now she sought out Ignazio, his bold red wings making him easy to spot among the other herd members.

"Hello Ignazio," she said warmly in greeting. "Are you feeling well today?"

Faithofthefallen

Tell me if my summary of what happened between the scene change doesn't work in any way! biggrin

 

[Faithofthefallen]

Ignazio's long raven mane billowed around him unbound as his fierce viridian eyes sweeping across the rolling dunes around them and beholding the magnificent sunset that had painted the sky in breathtaking smears of color.


His ears flicked to pick up the muted rustle of her wings, her soft breathing, the metallic clink of her golden adornments. He didn't need to look over his shoulder or hear her voice to know who had joined him. Her way of moving betrayed her presence, he had become acutely aware of such small details during his short time with the Khalasar. It was always busy, there was so much to be done and Daenerys was the heart and hub of activity. It had been a long recovery, it was amazing to him how long it took to restore the strength and stamina that had been stripped from him in such a short period of time. He still awoke often, breathless, mouth agape in a silent scream, from the all too real nightmares of laying there helplessly alone in the desert feeling his flesh boil as he slowly wasted away. Ignazio was ashamed of such weakness, the desert was his home, his birthplace, but he now had a whole new level of understanding and respect for the dangers it presented. Before he had only appreciated its stark and terrible beauty.

The stallion shifted, turning to face her he ducked his head respectfully once before meeting her eyes and smiling. It was good to have a quiet moment with her. "Much better thanks to you." He smiled. His eyes swept around to the rest of the Khalasar meaningfully, "You've been busy," he still knew very little about her, her history, what they were doing when they found him. He had only recently recovered fully and before then, nobody had spoken to him about much anything other than how his healing was going. "How are your dragons?"

Roniel Targaryen

Oops! Forgot to quote xD

 

[Revolutionary Roniel]

He had strange eyes, that one. Where most eyes were white, his were black. It made his green irises look startlingly bright, though they were half-hidden behind his black mane. Suddenly chagrined with herself for getting distracted by his appearance when she had been the one to initiate contact, she focused herself anew.

"Drogon," she said, naming the largest of her draconic children with a wry smile. "He seems to understand that he should not scorch a soquili even if they irritate him, but I have the feeling that it will require constant work to keep him and the others tame now that they grow older." It was strange to think of how helpless they had been upon first hatching. They hadn't been able to feed themselves for some time.

Faithofthefallen

 

[Faithofthefallen]

Ignazio's eyes lit. He had often admired the fierce beauty of the serpentine creatures. He had never before seen or heard of a dragon before being rescued by Daenerys. They certainly did not look like creatures that would ever tame but seeing her interact with them, it was clear why many had taken to calling her the mother of dragons. "Will they grow much larger?" He wondered aloud. He could tell they were still young, but they already seemed huge to him, it chilled his blood to think of meeting such fearsome predators alone without them under their mothers' watchful eye. When Ignazio saw them, he knew he was looking at a fierce predator, he wondered at why they listened to Daenerys rather than seeing her as another meal. He had heard many awe inspiring stories about how their queen had hatched her dragons, he loved hearing the stories but was sure they were blown all out of proportion. He had seen it happen many times before when someone performed something out of the ordinary, he thought it too personal a subject to broach although he burned to know the truth. He felt bonded to this mare, she had saved him, returned to him his life and will to live. It was unnerving to feel so in debt to someone you knew so little about.

He cast his gaze back over the throng behind them. "Before now, I was in no condition to ask, but now that I am recovered, I find myself wondering... What is your purpose for being out here in the desert? Forgive me, but it seems as though you are here for a purpose, I just can't imagine what, but it seems important, whatever it is." He cast a sidelong glance in her direction, hoping he wasn't overstepping.

Roniel Targaryen