[ Her first thought is to protest the gesture, as it comes, but she is ill-prepared for it, as divided as her mind is, drawn in by the view of the flames before her and the knowledge that she is somehow failing to draw its heat into her bones, to keep it as she'd once been able to. Fire cannot kill a dragon, but what happens if a dragon cannot keep its fire? What if it cannot produce the warmth from within itself?
As Jace settles behind her, the heavy drape of his coat over her frame, she reaches to take one of his hands in her own, knowing her touch will be chilled but unable to do anything for it. Between the newly stoked flames and the added garment — and he somehow feels warmer, or perhaps she can trick her mind into believing so — Rhaenyra shivers, once, and then falls still. ]
You cannot give everything up for me. [ She's speaking of the coat, of course, but in the moment it feels like much more — foreboding words that nearly cause her to flinch away, inwardly, as soon as they leave her. ]
no subject
As Jace settles behind her, the heavy drape of his coat over her frame, she reaches to take one of his hands in her own, knowing her touch will be chilled but unable to do anything for it. Between the newly stoked flames and the added garment — and he somehow feels warmer, or perhaps she can trick her mind into believing so — Rhaenyra shivers, once, and then falls still. ]
You cannot give everything up for me. [ She's speaking of the coat, of course, but in the moment it feels like much more — foreboding words that nearly cause her to flinch away, inwardly, as soon as they leave her. ]