He absorbs that for a moment, his expression sober.
“There’s a woman with pale hair. A small woman, pretty. The dragon is like to be hers. Drogon.”
He pauses long enough to swallow, but not so long that his answer seems finished. It is possible that the dragon is not one of Daenerys’s. It’s hard to wrap his mind around the idea that it could be anything else. The captain seems less and less a dragon when he remembers being surrounded by all three of them in a dream.
“I come from a city called New Amsterdam, but it was not my home. The year there was 2512. I found myself there a few moons ago, half a year — like I found myself here. My home is in Westeros. At Winterfell. It’s the greatest castle in the North.”
He doesn’t say this as if he expects to impress anyone. Rather, it’s a way of explaining the sort of place he comes from, and it’s wearying.
“Nothing like New Amsterdam. That place... it hadn’t been like my home in a thousand years. Maybe more.”
no subject
“There’s a woman with pale hair. A small woman, pretty. The dragon is like to be hers. Drogon.”
He pauses long enough to swallow, but not so long that his answer seems finished. It is possible that the dragon is not one of Daenerys’s. It’s hard to wrap his mind around the idea that it could be anything else. The captain seems less and less a dragon when he remembers being surrounded by all three of them in a dream.
“I come from a city called New Amsterdam, but it was not my home. The year there was 2512. I found myself there a few moons ago, half a year — like I found myself here. My home is in Westeros. At Winterfell. It’s the greatest castle in the North.”
He doesn’t say this as if he expects to impress anyone. Rather, it’s a way of explaining the sort of place he comes from, and it’s wearying.
“Nothing like New Amsterdam. That place... it hadn’t been like my home in a thousand years. Maybe more.”