That evening, Tom and Visenya found themselves set up in Rolf's two room hut, which was, according to Rolf, the best place to sleep in the entire village. This was a fact which Visenya was more than happy to confirm, making sure to point out that she'd slept there, alone, the night before. Bannon had taken that opportunity to bid them good-night, slipping off with the pretty girl he'd flirted with earlier by his side while Rolf alternated glaring death at the Ironborn and giving pitying glances at Mya who was looking forlornly at Tom as he and Visenya entered the small dwelling.
Looking around, Tom couldn't help but agree with Rolf's statement. While the place was fairly small and only had one bed that Tom would have had a hard time considering a double back home, it was warm and dry and well taken care of and the entire house seem to have the smell of some form of spices wafting through the entire house. All in all it was a meager but, cozy dwelling.
Tom walked over to Visenya who seem to be looking over the abode with a disdainful look in her eyes the entire time. Tom sighed, but did not comment as he was too sore and too tired to muster the energy to argue with her attitude. The bed, while it was big enough to hold the two of them, was small enough that they would have had to spoon. Tom looked at the bed then over towards Visenya, then back towards the bed. Then he sighed and said, "You can take the bed, m'lady. I'll grab a blanket and take a spot by the fire.
Visenya giggled, to Tom it seemed completely out of place on that fierce woman and the young man stared in confusion at such a reaction. He outright goggled when she followed that giggle with a sardonic reply, her violet eyes flashing with sardonic humor. "Oh but it would be improper for a husband to sleep separate from his lady wife, especially so soon after the wedding."
Tom stared, somewhat uncomprehending what she had just said. When they finally pierced through his iron hard skull, he blushed, then shook his head and snapped, "I'm not your husband. No matter what you've told them."
The humor evaporated from Visenya's eyes and they turned as hard as Valyrian steel. "Yes, you aren't my husband. My husband died not three day prior." Her eyes glazed for a moment in memory before she turned them back towards Tom, even harder if he thought that possible. "But, that means I still do not know who you are or more importantly what you are. You called yourself Dovahkiin. That is not a name I have never heard of before. Just what is a Dovahkiin, and why do you call yourself Dragonborn?"
Tom sighed, he knew that this was going to come up eventually, and, careless as he was sometimes, he hadn't planned out a proper answer. He grit his teeth and decided to wing it and hope for the best. "I'm not surprised that you haven't heard of a Dovahkiin, they are rare at the best of times and arise only among the number of those carry the blood of a land farter from Westross than Valyrian. So far in fact that it might as well be another world" Literally another world, he thought ruefully to himself. "As for what Dovahkiin means, It means Dragonborn in the ancient language of the Dragons themselves. Dovah. Dragon. Kiin. Born. Dovahkiin. Dragonborn."
Visneya stared at him for a moment, her face a blank slate of any emotion, then she said, "You lie. Ancient language of the dragons? Save your nonsense for the peasants. I've lived, trained, and fought with dragons nearly my entire life. My ancestors tamed, controlled, and fought using dragons for thousands of years. I can say with as much expertise as is possible, that dragons, while the king of beasts, are in the end simply beasts, no more intelligent than a very clever dog."
Tom never knew what came over him, maybe it was the stress of the situation, maybe it was the bruises he'd received from her earlier, or maybe it was the condescending disbelief that she was showing him, but at that moment something inside of him snapped and he just lost control. Something primal just welled up from deep within him, and he didn't even know what he said until it had already had been spoken.
"Mey Kiir! Nid!" he roared his voice full of primal rage.
The force of his outburst literally send Visneya crashing onto the bed, wide eyed and pale with shock, literally unable to look away as he continued his rant.
"Vahzah Dovah Mul Hevno Ahrk Munax! Ahrk Nust Kin Al Ahrk Kronidd! Nust Ann Kruziik Maar who Nir Ahrk Du Muz Med Raan! Dovah Do Keizaal Ni Sahlo Jaar Sivaas! "
To Visneya's stunned shock, while she had no idea what these primal, guttural words meant, something in the core of her being knew what was being said, 'Idiot child! NO! True dragons are powerful, brutal, and cruel! They are born conquerors and destroyers! They are an ancient terror who hunt and devour men like animals! The Dragons of Skyrim are not weak mortal beasts! "
Visenya almost quaked under Tom's gaze. She could remember seeing the very same look in Vhagar's eyes when the dragon spied an especially fat, and succulent looking sheep. Only this time, she was the sheep. Dovahkiin. Dragonborn. On some primal level, it suddenly made a terrifying degree of sense.
Before she could speak, before she could even think, Ser Tom moved towards her in a burst. She reacted with fear, reacted by instinct, and before she knew it, she'd drawn the dagger hidden under her skirt in a deadly arc to defend herself from the predator's approach.
"FUS!"
If she was frightened before, now she was terrified, as her weapon was torn from her hands, only to find itself imbedded almost hilt deep in the timbers of the peasant hovel.
Petrified, she could do nothing but look on, hoping and praying that he let her live. For a moment, a shameful part of her was even willing to allow him to pillage her body, just as long as he spared her afterwards.
She flinched when he knelt before her and grabbed her hand, and there was a lack of resistance when she allowed him to place it on his chest. Equally confused and relieved, she did not struggle and he held her hand in place, allowing her to feel the beating of his heart.
As her terror faded, it was replaced with confusion. His heartbeat, there was something strange about it. The fact could feel it through the chain-mail was odd enough, but beyond that there just seemed to be something more.
Though her fingers she could feel fire and fury, power and might. For a moment she could only think back to Vhagar, and that was when she realized. "Dragonborn," she said with a small voice, full of equal parts shock and awe, "It's not just a title, isn't it? What are you?"
"I'm Dovahkiin," he restated, "Dragonborn. I have the body of a man, the spirit of a dragon, and am kin to both."
For the first time Visenya realized what it is she was dealing with, and her fear was like a bitter flavor on the tongue that refused to be swallowed. She really was an expert on dragons, quite possibly the foremost in the entire world now that her husband was gone and her sister's condition was still unknown. She knew well how there was no other creature in this world, no kingdom, no force at arms, that could match the combination of strength, power, and ferocity of a dragon. And to take all of that, combine it with the reasoning ability of a human, and then disguise it in the skin of a man. The very idea terrified her beyond the ability of language to articulate.
The feats such a being could accomplish would be the stuff of legends. Only the gods themselves could ever hope to match it. And it had her hand pressed up against its chest, feeling its heart beat.
"Why?" she asked, her voice cracking, as she forced the syllable through disobedient lips.
Tom looked at her for a moment, not quite comprehending the simple question that said so little and asked so much at the same time.
"Why did you help me?" she asked again. "What did you do?" her fear began to grow frantic. "All I can remember is nothing then... then light and shock! What did you do to me? Why didn't you help my husband? Why did you spare me when you let him die? Tell me please! Why? What do you want from me?"
"I helped you...because I was asked to... because I wanted to..." Tom's voice was as soft as a whisper but is carried to her ears with ease. "I was alone, and scared out of my mind..."
"You? Scared?" she interrupted frantically. "What could a being such as you ever have to be frightened of? Surely not Bandits. Or maybe Armies? Entire nations?" she scoffed, "All would be like gravel underfoot for once such as you. What could you possibly be frightened of?"
"Watching a man die before my eyes without being able to help him..."
"Not able to help him?" she demanded. "You were able to help me! What did I have that my husband didn't?"
"You were weak, but not fatally injured like he was." He paused for a moment before admitting, "I didn't know I could help you like I did. What I know of my powers is dedicated to their use in combat, for destruction, taking life not saving it. My healing you was a flash of inspiration, born of desperation and a mad desire not to see an innocent woman die before me as I clung to her, impotently trying to warm her body with mine like some helpless fool."
Visenya though for a moment. It sounded like he found her moments from death. That explained why they'd both been naked, but it left her with a bigger question. From the sound of it, she should be in the same condition the ironborn has reported her sister, feverish and near death. But she felt hale and hearty, as if her life had never been in question for a moment.
"What did you do to me?"
"Your spirit was flickering like a candle in a storm. I... I... From what I remember of that panic filled moment, I gave you a little of my fire, to stoke your own until it could burn by itself. I am sorry I can't say anything else, but that is all I know."
Visenya's eyes went wide at the implication. This man, who was in truth, a dragon wearing human form, gave of his own spirit to save her life. She remembered that moment too. Blackness, endless nothingness, then frantic light and fury. In an instant she'd gone from the brink of death to being full of life.
The idea of his power frightened her, but it also intrigued her, and she could not say that the idea of having some of it for herself wasn't entirely appealing. After all, while her dragon may have been lost to the storm, it didn't mean that she didn't still desire the dragon's power. And if she could convince him to share just a little bit, well. He might be Dragonborn, but she was still Dragonblooded, and though she'd never say it for fear of offending him, she did somewhat feel like she had a right to maybe just a little bit.
"Show me what you did to me," she said, her tone stern and brooking no argument, and hiding both a giddy anticipation, and the very real concern that he'd see through her deception and set her on fire for her impudence.
Tom stared at her for a moment, then he nodded, "Alright."
He stood up and taking a deep breath he thought back those two long days ago, "LAAS ZII FUS!"
The same blast of energy erupted from his mouth and slammed into the woman before him. For a moment she looked as if she were on fire, as power washed across her body, filling her very soul with his draconic essence.
Visenya's eyes rolled into her head and she fell back onto the bed releasing an ear splitting, and entirely unwholesome scream from her lips. The feeling was indescribable, like being awash in both pleasure and power beyond limit. Her blood boiled from the sheer intensity of it.
The sound of chanting whispered at the edges of her senses, and she knew it to be the voices of dragons. It felt of a wild joy and a rage beyond mortal comprehension. It felt of the scorching heat of an unforgiving sun on her back. It felt of the bitter cold of an icy wind sluicing over her wings.
The chant grew into a roar and Visenya felt her vision darken, becoming blurred at the edges. Even so, she felt a great sense of euphoria well up from within her, as if the whole world was laid bare beneath her all-encompassing gaze as she towered over it. She felt the urge to cry out, and her chest heaved with the beginnings of some wordless scream. The desire to proclaim this world as her own, its peoples her subjects, that it was all hers. Hers from the tallest mountain to the deepest chasm, that all the nations of men, that all the beasts and beings that live under the skies were hers by right of blood.
And it was her Right, nay, her Duty to rule them.
For that moment she was no longer Visenya Targaryen, pathetic mortal, but something far greater. While lasting only a couple seconds, the sensation was so great to have felt like a lifetime.
As it faded, she looked at Tom. In that instant it she saw him now for what he truly was, not a man but a dragon. It was a great beast of vast and shadowy darkness that loomed over her, dominating a room too impossibly small to fit its great dimensions. Its wings spread and it roared so loud she felt that her eardrums must soon burst from the strain of the great proclamation that followed.
::I AM DOVAHKIIN::
As swiftly as the vision had appeared, it disappeared and in the place of the colossal dragon was the overweight young man she had known for the past few days.
He was nothing like Aegon, his face was rounder, and while attractive, was handsome in a humble peasant way rather than in the noble power and nobility of Aegon. His hair was a dark brown and shaggy like a wolf's pelt, unlike the silver and gold of Aegon's long smooth locks. His body while short and solid was incomparable to Aegon's tall and trim form. It wasn't until she looked at his eyes that she remembered the raw power and terror she had felt before. They were an interesting green, not unlike a Lannister but they burned with a jade fire much like wild fire and the black pupils if one were to observe them long enough, one could see a gold glow that seemed to hint at the raw power that dwelt within this young man.
She now understood what that power was. She'd thought he'd tricked him, but now even through the euphoria she wondered if she was the one who'd been tricked, and just as strongly, she wondered if she even cared. She had been given a taste of his power, and now she would give almost anything to taste that power again. She wanted it, she craved it, she needed it. She'd do anything...
anything...
anything...
anything...
anything...
anything...
any...
Tom was beginning to become worried about Visenya as she grew redder and redder, her skin began to shimmer from a thin sheen of sweat, the pupils of her eyes dilated till it seemed that her eyes changed from violet to jet black.
Worry about to grow into outright concern Tom placed his hand on her shoulder and in a loud clear voice said, "Visenya!"
Whatever fugue she was in evaporated almost the instant that Tom touched her and spoke.
She stared blankly for a moment, the flush gone and her eyes contracted back to normal. When her mental fog seemed to clear a few moments later, her eyes focused on Tom and she began to study him as if he were some fantastic creature that she'd never seen in her life. Tom was more than a little disconcerted and wondered if she were about to attack him.
But his concerns were unfounded when Visenya turned away and said, "You may share the bed with me. It is the least I could do for the man who has rescued me."
She then stripped down to her small clothes, an off-white shift that went down to right below her knees. Then she slipped into bed shifting on her side so that she faced the edge of the bed. All while ignoring Tom's presence while doing so.
Tom stared for a moment, somewhat stunned, despite his little adventure the night before this was more than a little confusing for the poor guy. When he didn't move for a few minutes Visenya lifted head to look at him and said, "Well are you not going to bed?"
Tom was started out of his paralysis and stripped down to his jeans and slid in with her making sure his back was facing her as well. When Tom went to sleep, more than a little confused at this turn of events and wondering what the hell it was he did and why he did it, he never noticed that Visenya had laid there, wide awake, her mind was whirling with thoughts and plans for the future.