[ The tunnels and the dragons — they're similar in a certain respect, as far as Elrond can divine as to how Rhaenyra feels about them. Their origins are in blood and warfare, the tunnels built as a means of escaping the discord their maker had sown, the dragons best known for setting entire corps of soldiers aflame, for turning the tide of war. But now, in a time of relative peace, she seems to wish for them to remain that way; the tunnels now simply something to be shared between them, and Syrax a boon companion rather than a sword to be wielded against some unseen enemy.
He could be wrong, and this might all be wishful thinking on his part, but it isn't, it couldn't be, he thinks, as he looks at the way her expression changes as she tells him of the secrets carried in her family's history. When had she been told of this prophecy, he wonders, how long has she had to carry it?
Prophecy is not an easy burden to bear, much less when it seems to cover such a scope. It's easier to grasp on his side of history, he thinks, as the gods do not feel so removed, as great deeds and heroes are not totally stuff of history long past, but for the kingdom over which she is meant to rule, it can feel nothing if not titanic.
(There's something almost funny, though, in the nature of the great evil that purportedly will encroach upon her world; a thing of ice, of cold, as opposed to the flames that Morgoth and those who followed him had sought to bring upon all in their path. How strange, that the two dooms their people should face should be so opposite in nature.)
She seeks his gaze and he is quick to hold it, a slight furrow in his brow as he attempts to keep his thoughts clear. A great danger, but one that could come now or in centuries, with the only provision being that a Targaryen should hold the throne. ]
No more apologies between us, remember?
[ He smiles slightly, as he reminds her of the private vow they had shared before joining hands. Though he does not say as much in the moment, the burden is one, he thinks, that he had already taken, in some capacity, before she had even told him. To do his best by her, to maintain peace, to act in the interest of the people — is that not, in the end, what the prophecy demands?
His next words come somewhat more cautiously, his expression growing solemn again. ]
Do you believe in it, Rhaenyra?
[ He supposes it is a question of principle, in a way. Does she take this prophecy as a guiding star because the importance her father has impressed upon her, or would it not matter, in her wish to be a good queen? Would she still desire to rule? ]
no subject
He could be wrong, and this might all be wishful thinking on his part, but it isn't, it couldn't be, he thinks, as he looks at the way her expression changes as she tells him of the secrets carried in her family's history. When had she been told of this prophecy, he wonders, how long has she had to carry it?
Prophecy is not an easy burden to bear, much less when it seems to cover such a scope. It's easier to grasp on his side of history, he thinks, as the gods do not feel so removed, as great deeds and heroes are not totally stuff of history long past, but for the kingdom over which she is meant to rule, it can feel nothing if not titanic.
(There's something almost funny, though, in the nature of the great evil that purportedly will encroach upon her world; a thing of ice, of cold, as opposed to the flames that Morgoth and those who followed him had sought to bring upon all in their path. How strange, that the two dooms their people should face should be so opposite in nature.)
She seeks his gaze and he is quick to hold it, a slight furrow in his brow as he attempts to keep his thoughts clear. A great danger, but one that could come now or in centuries, with the only provision being that a Targaryen should hold the throne. ]
No more apologies between us, remember?
[ He smiles slightly, as he reminds her of the private vow they had shared before joining hands. Though he does not say as much in the moment, the burden is one, he thinks, that he had already taken, in some capacity, before she had even told him. To do his best by her, to maintain peace, to act in the interest of the people — is that not, in the end, what the prophecy demands?
His next words come somewhat more cautiously, his expression growing solemn again. ]
Do you believe in it, Rhaenyra?
[ He supposes it is a question of principle, in a way. Does she take this prophecy as a guiding star because the importance her father has impressed upon her, or would it not matter, in her wish to be a good queen? Would she still desire to rule? ]