closed.

[jalan]

WHO: Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow
WHERE: De Chima
WHEN: Immediately!!
WHAT: Discussing charitable efforts.
WARNINGS: Terminal do gooding.

Dragon wings briefly eclipse the sun, and Drogon's landing on farm ground is heavy enough to be felt up through the soles of anyone standing near.

Practiced, and more so every day, Daenerys climbs down the slope of his wing as the dragon settles belly-flat against the earth. She is dressed for the day in pragmatic materials, something tailored for her in lieu of modern cuts and textiles, save for the sunglasses affixed to her face. Her hair is bound back into a silver braid that would make a Dothraki warrior envious, and she tugs it free of her collar as she moves towards the property itself, Drogon having given it some distance upon landing. As if curious, he follows, the spidery step over step of his wings giving his gait a lurch as he scents the air with the opening and closing of his nostrils.

Kings everywhere you turn. Between her burgeoning friendship with one and the revelation of another, whom she would count as a friend since she first arrived, her desire to move past what had so bothered her comes as this: an inquiry of interest in his pursuits, a mutual expression of mutual assistance, and then, a request to see what's been done with the place. Beyond mild approval, Daenerys has yet kept her thoughts to herself, pending judgement.

She takes off her glasses, folding them between her hands.

Comments

[song_of_ice]

He was hardly in a kingly state with the shadow passed over the sun, heralding the dragon's approach. He was familiar with the sounds of Drogon's wings and the sudden shift in the wind as he neared the ground. The sound of hammers and chatter from the workers stopped, a few pausing in their tasks to watch the gorgeous beast land.

The two story farm had been large when Jon had first seen it, much like his own. A number of rooms for a number of different residents, but it was better suited for a family than for a shelter. The kitchen had been smaller than needed and the rooms needed to be expanded to fit different purposes, including rooms and an office. A number of walls were torn down and a foundation was being set for the expanded kitchen and rooms on the ground floor. The light yellow paint at the front of the house would be the only splash of color while timber frames were being set and bricks were lain.

The barn itself was being renovated and equipped with a cooling system, changing it from its previous function to a dormitory, comfortable and large. There were a number of hands to help, volunteers and a construction crew that Jon had hired.

He worked alongside them, discarding his Westerosi clothes for a simple shirt and jeans. After working for several hours in the warm weather, he smelled of sweat and dirt, not the impression he would want to leave Daenerys, but it left his mind as he stepped from the house to greet her.

"I didn't expect to see you." But he was glad she did. "Well, this is it." It was unfinished, but he was proud of what he accomplished so far. It could be a home to so many and it felt like a relief to shake away the ghosts in his mind. Much like his friendship with Daenerys, it was time to move forward and not linger over the past. "What do you think?"

[jalan]

Behind her, she can feel the whisper of wind that comes with Drogon shrinking in size. It takes only a minute, his large size dwindling down to the size of a horse, a dog, a cat, and in this last form, he takes to the air to land on Dany's shoulder. Leather resists the bite of his claws, but she puts up a hand to steady him, and another to tug loose where an errant braid has caught under his claw.

Her attention catches on Jon, and she offers one of her small smiles. Her idea of what kingliness is meant to smell like differs when you consider her warlord husband.

"You've transformed it," she says, treatment mild. She has, for the most part, danced around his courting of Lucy Pevensie, and can't help but wonder now how closely this project is intertwined with his sense of mourning her. Destruction and creation happening as one. She can't say she doesn't understand. "How long until it is made ready, do you think?"

[song_of_ice]

He is proud of it and what he has managed to accomplish. For so long, he was consumed with the coming war and the dead that marched against the Wall. This was a shift from that, as sharp a change as winter into summer. The dead no longer had his focus, only the living. It was more than survival and more than basic needs, it was about helping others that needed it, something he had always tried to do but never seemed able to.

He nods, encouraging her to follow him as he leads her to the barn, allowing her to see the shaping dormitories. It would be made cooler and into a proper home, unlike anything he had seen a barn used for before. A dwelling in its own right. There were workers around them, focused on the task at hand as they constructed walls and laid down flooring. Windows were being put in, bringing more light into the large structure.

"A month, I think? So long as we keep this pace. Most of the work is here," he waved a hand at the barn. "The rest is expanding already existing rooms." His eyes cast over to her, warm but bearing a measure of confusion. "Have you come with the purpose of inspecting it?" There is a hint of teasing in his tone. "I don't think you have come out this far before."

[jalan]

Daenerys follows, dragon on shoulder, and once inside, breaks away to explore, although not so presumptuous as to range beyond Jon's proximity. At this last statement, the look over her shoulder she issues him is along the lines of you know nothing, Jon Snow. "Do you really think that anyone with the ability to traverse the sky on dragon wing would keep to the Porter cities? I've managed to claim some land, even, to provide Drogon a hunting ground."

And a home, but such is one in the same for a dragon. She roams back towards Jon, looking around. "I spend as much time far as I do close to my own projects within the cities. Sometimes if only to retain my own sanity."

But maybe that's a personal observation to make, more self-pitying than she would like it to be. They're all fish out of water here, Jon and her and the rest of them, and here they stand, in a shelter intended for those with nowhere to go, so she presses on. "I did come for a purpose. I would help, where I can, as I've gained some knowledge of how charitable organisation works in this world -- but I also wished to offer an idea. An alternative, if you'd hear it."

[song_of_ice]

Ah. He offers her an amused smile as he glances between her and Drogon on her shoulder. "I only meant that I don't think you have ever visited this part of my land. Not here or the farmhouse." The forest preserve was different, but he wasn't going to raise that topic. "Do you intend to follow him with a home of your own there?" He can't really imagine why anyone would want to stay in the porter cities. The noise, the crowds. Winterfell was large enough for him and he at least had some measure of solitude when he was a boy.

"We have never spoken about your projects." Only ever about home. She had been here longer and kept her sanity as she wanted. She knew better than him how to manage this world. "There were the...uh...garments. How does a queen fill her days?" He tries to tease her, to smile and jest. It wasn't such a chore to try with her around.

He would welcome her help and advice. This was all new to him and he was stumbling about, trying to find his way and do well with his first real project. "What is the alternative?"

[jalan]

"Not as a queen."

Just as Jon Snow is king of no north, here. Dany's hands tangle together. She isn't immune to teasing, the slightest of smiles manifesting around her eyes, just as she seems to be unable to resist with her own share of ponytail tugging comments. "The garments," she says, putting a pausing weight on his word choice, the corner of her mouth curled up, "are a means of living comfortably, but generate enough wealth that I can invest in other pursuits.

"I've yet to build anything," she adds, frank. "But I will build something. Not a castle in which to rule, but something."

With Westeros still waiting for her, with the scent of ocean air still clean in her memory of when she was last home, and America is something of a temporary haven, rather than something to conquer. No excuse to be idle, however. She draws her focus to his question.

"I've spoken to the sort of charitable organisations who take interests in pursuits such as these. Adjacent to my garments are groups that help women, specifically, for whom I try to raise funds and awareness. They put words to the sort of sufferings women experience that we, in our world, consider as natural as breathing, and try to end them.

"Domestic violence describes the injustice of women partnered with men, who suffer at the hands of their men, as do their children. In the process of commanding police attention to such matters, the women and their children require temporary homes. Secret places of reprieve, so they might reclaim some dignity and peace while justice is restored."

She pauses, there, allowing some of these things to sink in, before she says, "I wanted to offer you the choice of perhaps turning your premises into such a place. Your desire to bring homes to those who don't have them is noble, but they would not require the kind of remoteness your farmland would provide. It might even be a hindrance, to retreat from the city."

[song_of_ice]

It was a poor word choice, but he didn't know what else to call it. Those sorts of things were beyond him, but she seemed to find it funny. "Aye, the garments." He repeats it again for emphasis. If he will make an awkward comment, he will stand by that awkward comment.

"Do you think you will be here long enough to build something?" Or hope to be? But he didn't ask that question. Here he was doing that, even though he had no desire to remain in this world. It seemed easier than simply standing around and this might actually last, long after he had been pulled back to Westeros.

He nodded, listening to her talk about her charitable efforts. It wasn't a surprise that Daenerys was helping others. With what he had come to know about her, she was just as unlikely to be idle. It was the first though that he was able to hear about her life in the city, what she did and what she was passionate about. It was interesting to him, as much as she was.

It doesn't take long for him to understand what she is driving at and what she hopes to encourage him to do. His eyes cast over the farmhouse, considering the shift in the project and what that might mean. As much work as it would cause, it would be the better use of the facility and he could imagine Lucy wanting it to be so.

But the work.

"I would need to find another place in the city then." Which meant more funds. "I would need to raise more as well as to have that running." He scratched his chin, trying to picture how comfortable the women would be here and what more he could do to add to that. "It isn't something I can do on my own. You understand the cause and know better how to raise awareness and coin. I would need your help and you to work with me."