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aboveallarescuer · 4 years

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Daenerys Targaryen's tropes - Rule of Three

Sometimes called trebling, the Rule of Three is a pattern used in stories and jokes, where part of the story is told three times, with minor variations. The first two instances build tension, and the third releases it by incorporating a twist.

Three is the smallest number required to create a pattern, so it's especially common in storytelling.The third of three siblings succeeds after their older siblings each failed. The protagonist is given three tests and receives the prize after the third. It's almost unusual to find a folktale that does not incorporate the Rule of Three in some form. This may be an artifact of the oral tradition, in which the stock formula of the first, second, and third attempts makes the story easier to remember.

[...] Sometimes, an event needs to be shown three times to establish that a variation to the norm is happening. The first time the audience sees this event, they see it happening a certain way, but they don't yet know that this is typical. The second time they see it, it is the same as the first. This establishes that this is the standard way that things always happen. The third time they see the event in question, it is different, so the audience knows that this is a deviation from the norm.

Dany's story is deliberately filled with Rule of Three examples. This trope is so significant to her character that GRRM even had her acknowledge it:

Her bell rang softly, and Dany found her thoughts returning to the Palace of Dust once more, as the tongue returns to a space left by a missing tooth. Child of three, they had called her, daughter of death, slayer of lies, bride of fire. So many threes. Three fires, three mounts to ride, three treasons. (ACOK Daenerys V)

Examples where the third time breaks the norm

1) Dany was the third of three siblings and became/will become everything that they couldn't be - conqueror, queen and savior

Dany had only been conceived when Aegon and his sister were murdered. Their father, her brother Rhaegar, perished even earlier, slain by the Usurper on the Trident. Her brother Viserys had died screaming in Vaes Dothrak with a crown of molten gold upon his head. They will kill me too if I allow it. (ADWD Daenerys I)

2) Dany has three dragon dreams, with the third happening just before she births her dragons

There are no more dragons, Dany thought, staring at her brother, though she did not dare say it aloud.

Yet that night she dreamt of one. Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You woke the dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon.” Her thighs were slick with blood. She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. (AGOT Daenerys II)

Yet when she slept that night, she dreamt the dragon dream again. Viserys was not in it this time. There was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed. Its eyes were pools of molten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She could hear it singing to her, She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blacken and slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and fierce. (AGOT Daenerys III)

Wings shadowed her fever dreams. 

[...] Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. “Faster,” they cried, “faster, faster.” She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. “Faster!” the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew.

“... wake the dragon ...”

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door.

“... the dragon ...”

And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. “The last dragon,” Ser Jorah’s voice whispered faintly. “The last, the last.” Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

3) Dany wakes up three times from fever dreams and gets up in the third attempt

She woke to the taste of ashes. 

“No,” she moaned, “no, please.” 

“Khaleesi?” Jhiqui hovered over her, a frightened doe. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

After a time—a night, a day, a year, she could not say—she woke again. The tent was dark, its silken walls flapping like wings when the wind gusted outside. This time Dany did not attempt to rise. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

When she woke the third time, a shaft of golden sunlight was pouring through the smoke hole of the tent, and her arms were wrapped around a dragon’s egg. It was the pale one, its scales the color of butter cream, veined with whorls of gold and bronze, and Dany could feel the heat of it. Beneath her bedsilks, a fine sheen of perspiration covered her bare skin. Dragondew, she thought. Her fingers trailed lightly across the surface of the shell, tracing the wisps of gold, and deep in the stone she felt something twist and stretch in response. It did not frighten her. All her fear was gone, burned away. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

4) Dany attempts to birth the dragons in three different ways: sleeping alongside the dragon eggs, putting them on a brazier and placing them on Drogo's funeral pyre. The third attempt works

“Please, bring me one of the dragon’s eggs.”

Irri fetched the egg with the deep green shell, bronze flecks shining amid its scales as she turned it in her small hands. Dany curled up on her side, pulling the sandsilk cloak across her and cradling the egg in the hollow between her swollen belly and small, tender breasts. She liked to hold them. They were so beautiful, and sometimes just being close to them made her feel stronger, braver, as if somehow she were drawing strength from the stone dragons locked inside.

She was lying there, holding the egg, when she felt the child move within her ... as if he were reaching out, brother to brother, blood to blood. “You are the dragon,” Dany whispered to him, “the true dragon. I know it. I know it.” And she smiled, and went to sleep dreaming of home. (AGOT Daenerys IV)

Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, “Ser Jorah, light the brazier.” “Khaleesi?” The knight looked at her strangely. “It is so hot. Are you certain?” She had never been so certain. “Yes. I ... I have a chill. Light the brazier.”

He bowed. “As you command.”

When the coals were afire, Dany sent Ser Jorah from her. She had to be alone to do what she must do. This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn, and it’s so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet ...

Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals. The black scales seemed to glow as they drank the heat. Flames licked against the stone with small red tongues. Dany placed the other two eggs beside the black one in the fire. As she stepped back from the brazier, the breath trembled in her throat.

She watched until the coals had turned to ashes. Drifting sparks floated up and out of the smokehole. Heat shimmered in waves around the dragon’s eggs. And that was all. (AGOT Daenerys VI)

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. Mirri Maz Duur had fallen silent. The godswife thought her a child, but children grow, and children learn. (AGOT Daenerys X)

5) Dany births three dragons. She bonds with and rides the third one

She heard a crack, the sound of shattering stone. [...]

And there came a second crack, loud and sharp as thunder, and the smoke stirred and whirled around her and the pyre shifted, the logs exploding as the fire touched their secret hearts. [...]

Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world. (AGOT Daenerys X)

Daenerys Targaryen vaulted onto the dragon’s back, seized the spear, and ripped it out. The point was half-melted, the iron red-hot, glowing. She flung it aside. Drogon twisted under her, his muscles rippling as he gathered his strength. The air was thick with sand. Dany could not see, she could not breathe, she could not think. The black wings cracked like thunder, and suddenly the scarlet sands were falling away beneath her.

Dizzy, Dany closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she glimpsed the Meereenese beneath her through a haze of tears and dust, pouring up the steps and out into the streets.

The lash was still in her hand. She flicked it against Drogon’s neck and cried, “Higher!” Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. Drogon’s wide black wings beat the air. Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. Yes, she thought, yes, now, now, do it, do it, take me, take me, FLY! (ADWD Daenerys IX)

6) Dany sends her three bloodriders to look for a safe place to go and the third (who had followed the comet, strongly implying that it was indeed showing her the way) returns with news of Qarth, which is where she ultimately goes

“I have need of you. Each of you is to choose three horses, the hardiest and healthiest that remain to us. Load as much water and food as your mounts can bear, and ride forth for me. Aggo shall strike southwest, Rakharo due south. Jhogo, you are to follow shierak qiya on southeast.”

“What shall we seek, Khaleesi?” asked Jhogo.

“Whatever there is,” Dany answered. “Seek for other cities, living and dead. Seek for caravans and people. Seek for rivers and lakes and the great salt sea. Find how far this waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side. When I leave this place, I do not mean to strike out blind again. I will know where I am bound, and how best to get there.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

Rakharo was the first to return. Due south the red waste stretched on and on, he reported, until it ended on a bleak shore beside the poison water. Between here and there lay only swirling sand, wind-scoured rocks, and plants bristly with sharp thorns. He had passed the bones of a dragon, he swore, so immense that he had ridden his horse through its great black jaws. Other than that, he had seen nothing. (ACOK Daenerys I)

Aggo was back next. The southwest was barren and burnt, he swore. He had found the ruins of two more cities, smaller than Vaes Tolorro but otherwise the same. One was warded by a ring of skulls mounted on rusted iron spears, so he dared not enter, but he had explored the second for as long as he could. (ACOK Daenerys I)

Jhogo was gone so long that Dany feared him lost, but finally when they had all but ceased to look for him, he came riding up from the southeast. One of the guards that Aggo had posted saw him first and gave a shout, and Dany rushed to the walls to see for herself. It was true. Jhogo came, yet not alone. Behind him rode three queerly garbed strangers atop ugly humped creatures that dwarfed any horse.

They drew rein before the city gates, and looked up to see Dany on the wall above them. “Blood of my blood,” Jhogo called, “I have been to the great city Qarth, and returned with three who would look on you with their own eyes.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

7) The third fire that Dany must light is to (rather than for) love

The whispers became a swirling song. ... three fires must you light ... one for life and one for death and one to love ... (ACOK Daenerys IV)

8) Dany conquered three cities and ruled the third one

This dragon queen who wears her name is a true Targaryen. When I sent ships to bring her home, she turned toward Slaver’s Bay. In a short span of days she conquered Astapor, made Yunkai bend the knee, and sacked Meereen. (ADWD Tyrion II)

“Meereen is not Westeros, Your Grace.”

“But how can I rule seven kingdoms if I cannot rule a single city? [...] I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.” She turned back to look at their faces. “I will not march.”

“What will you do then, Khaleesi?” asked Rakharo.

“Stay,” she said. “Rule. And be a queen.” (ASOS Daenerys VI)

9) Dany is given the option to leave Meereen for Westeros three times in ADWD and only chooses to do so in the third time

“You turned north when you should have continued south and west, across the Summer Sea, but with my gift you shall soon be back where you belong. Accept my galleys with a joyful heart, and bend your oars westward.”

Would that I could. “My lord, I will gladly have those ships, but I cannot give you the promise that you ask.” She took his hand. “Give me the galleys, and I swear that Qarth will have the friendship of Meereen until the stars go out. Let me trade with them, and you will have a good part of the profits.”

Xaro’s glad smile died upon his lips. “What are you saying? Are you telling me you will not go?”

“I cannot go.” (ADWD Daenerys III)

“Your Grace, I must entreat you. My father’s strength is failing, but his devotion to your cause is as strong as ever. If my manner or my person have displeased you, that is my sorrow, but—”

“If you would please me, ser, be happy for me,” Daenerys said. “This is my wedding day. They will be dancing in the Yellow City, I do not doubt.” She sighed. “Rise, my prince, and smile. One day I shall return to Westeros to claim my father’s throne, and look to Dorne for help. But on this day the Yunkai’i have my city ringed in steel. I may die before I see my Seven Kingdoms. Hizdahr may die. Westeros may be swallowed by the waves.” Dany kissed his cheek. “Come. It’s time I wed.” (ADWD Daenerys VII)

You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. “To be a queen.”

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.

“It is such a long way,” she complained. “I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl.”

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

“Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass. (ADWD Daenerys X)

Examples of three instances without a twist

1) The dragon has three heads (refers to the prophecy, to House Targaryen's sigil and to the Conquest Trio)

“There must be one more,” he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. “The dragon has three heads.” (ACOK Daenerys IV)

“The dragon has three heads,” she sighed. “Do you know what that means, Jorah?”

“Your Grace? The sigil of House Targaryen is a three-headed dragon, red on black.”

“I know that. But there are no three-headed dragons.”

“The three heads were Aegon and his sisters.”

“Visenya and Rhaenys,” she recalled. “I am descended from Aegon and Rhaenys through their son Aenys and their grandson Jaehaerys.” (ACOK Daenerys V)

2) Dany is given three handmaids

Her brother Viserys gifted her with three handmaids. Dany knew they had cost him nothing; Illyrio no doubt had provided the girls. Irri and Jhiqui were copper-skinned Dothraki with black hair and almond-shaped eyes, Doreah a fair-haired, blue-eyed Lysene girl. (AGOT Daenerys II)

3) Dany has three bloodriders

She turned to the three young warriors of her khas. “Jhogo, to you I give the silver-handled whip that was my bride gift, and name you ko, and ask your oath, that you will live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

Jhogo took the whip from her hands, but his face was confused. “Khaleesi,” he said hesitantly, “this is not done. It would shame me, to be bloodrider to a woman.”

“Aggo,” Dany called, paying no heed to Jhogo’s words. If I look back I am lost. “To you I give the dragonbone bow that was my bride gift.” It was double-curved, shiny black and exquisite, taller than she was. “I name you ko, and ask your oath, that you should live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

Aggo accepted the bow with lowered eyes. “I cannot say these words. Only a man can lead a khalasar or name a ko.”

“Rakharo,” Dany said, turning away from the refusal, “you shall have the great arakh that was my bride gift, with hilt and blade chased in gold. And you too I name my ko, and ask that you live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

“You are khaleesi,” Rakharo said, taking the arakh. “I shall ride at your side to Vaes Dothrak beneath the Mother of Mountains, and keep you safe from harm until you take your place with the crones of the dosh khaleen. No more can I promise.” (AGOT Daenerys X)

4) Dany is the mother of three dragons

And my dragons, never forget. In time, the dragons would be her most formidable guardians, just as they had been for Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters three hundred years ago. Just now, though, they brought her more danger than protection. In all the world there were but three living dragons, and those were hers; they were a wonder, and a terror, and beyond price. (ASOS Daenerys I)

5) Dany is met by three representatives from Qarth at Vaes Tolorro (who are a deliberate reference to the Three Wise Men visiting Jesus after his birth)

One of the guards that Aggo had posted saw him first and gave a shout, and Dany rushed to the walls to see for herself. It was true. Jhogo came, yet not alone. Behind him rode three queerly garbed strangers atop ugly humped creatures that dwarfed any horse.

6) Dany receives three prophecy visions: she will light three fires and ride three mounts and know three treasons

Her own heart was beating in unison to the one that floated before her, blue and corrupt ... three mounts must you ride ... one to bed and one to dread and one to love ... The voices were growing louder, she realized, and it seemed her heart was slowing, and even her breath. ... three treasons will you know ... once for blood and once for gold and once for love ... (ACOK Daenerys IV)

7) Dany is called the child of three and is given three titles contextualized by multiple visions - daughter of death (because three men died so she could become who she is), slayer of lies (because she will reveal three assertions to be false) and bride of fire (because she will take three husbands).

Then phantoms shivered through the murk, images in indigo. Viserys screamed as the molten gold ran down his cheeks and filled his mouth. A tall lord with copper skin and silver-gold hair stood beneath the banner of a fiery stallion, a burning city behind him. Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with his last breath murmured a woman’s name. ... mother of dragons, daughter of death ... Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire. ... mother of dragons, slayer of lies ... Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. ... mother of dragons, bride of fire ... (ACOK Daenerys V)

Child of three, they had called her, daughter of death, slayer of lies, bride of fire. (ACOK Daenerys V)

8) Illyrio sends Dany three ships

“It is so, Your Grace,” Arstan Whitebeard said. “The great cog Saduleon is berthed at the end of the quay, and the galleys Summer Sun and Joso’s Prank are anchored beyond the breakwater.”

Three heads has the dragon, Dany thought, wondering. “I shall tell my people to make ready to depart at once. But the ships that bring me home must bear different names.”

“As you wish,” said Arstan. “What names would you prefer?”

“Vhagar,” Daenerys told him. “Meraxes. And Balerion. Paint the names on their hulls in golden letters three feet high, Arstan. I want every man who sees them to know the dragons are returned.” (ACOK Daenerys V)

9) Three suitors outside Meereen are attempting to reach Dany in ADWD

When Victarion opened his hand, his palm was red with blood. “I’ll go to Slaver’s Bay, aye. I’ll find this dragon woman, and I’ll bring her back.” But not for you. You stole my wife and despoiled her, so I’ll have yours. The fairest woman in the world, for me. (AFFC The Reaver)

That was before Prince Doran had summoned him to the Water Gardens. And now the most beautiful woman in the world was waiting in Meereen, and he meant to do his duty and claim her for his bride. She will not refuse me. She will honor the agreement. Daenerys Targaryen would need Dorne to win the Seven Kingdoms, and that meant that she would need him. It does not mean that she will love me, though. She may not even like me. (ADWD The Merchant's Man)

“...It does make for a splendid story, and the singers will make much of your escape once you take the Iron Throne … assuming that our fair Daenerys takes you for her consort.”

“She will. She must.”

“Must?” Tyrion made a tsking sound. “That is not a word queens like to hear. You are her perfect prince, agreed, bright and bold and comely as any maid could wish. Daenerys Targaryen is no maid, however. She is the widow of a Dothraki khal, a mother of dragons and sacker of cities, Aegon the Conqueror with teats. She may not prove as willing as you wish.”

“She’ll be willing.” Prince Aegon sounded shocked. It was plain that he had never before considered the possibility that his bride-to-be might refuse him. (ADWD Tyrion VI)

Speculations

Considering how the Rule of Three was so important to Dany's story so far, it's only natural that people also use it to speculate on her future.

1) Dany is the third Daenerys that we get to know of and the one that will get to rule

While the three Daenerys’ don’t have anything close to similar lives, each of the Daenerys’ of the past seem to intentionally have call backs or call forwards to the canon era Dany. Both of them seem to foreshadow Dany’s current and future storylines with pushes for social progress and her future as the reigning Queen of Westeros. (x)

2) Dany's story is illustrated by the three walls of Qarth. It has three phases marked by her time with the Dothraki, by her actions in Slaver's Bay and, later, by love (read more about this in this meta)

Three thick walls encircled Qarth, elaborately carved. The outer was red sandstone, thirty feet high and decorated with animals: snakes slithering, kites flying, fish swimming, intermingled with wolves of the red waste and striped horses and monstrous elephants. The middle wall, forty feet high, was grey granite alive with scenes of war: the clash of sword and shield and spear, arrows in flight, heroes at battle and babes being butchered, pyres of the dead. The innermost wall was fifty feet of black marble, with carvings that made Dany blush until she told herself that she was being a fool. She was no maid; if she could look on the grey wall’s scenes of slaughter, why should she avert her eyes from the sight of men and women giving pleasure to one another? (ACOK Daenerys I)

Most of the "firsts” seem to relate to the beginning of Dany’s journey and her life with the Dothraki, just as the first wall of Qarth.

[...] Most of the “seconds” of the prophecies seem to relate to moments of war or moments in Slaver’s Bay, just like the second wall of Qarth is full of scenes of war.

[...] And Dany’s third prophecies seem to mostly relate to love. Fire to love, mount to love and treason for love. (x)

3) Dany embraced fire and blood in two moments that marked the end of the first and second phases of her journey and will either do so again or reject it towards the end of the third phase

No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children. (AGOT Daenerys X)

You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

“Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass. (ADWD Daenerys X)

4) Dany had/will have two brief and unhappy marriages with her first two husbands (Drogo being represented by the silver, Hizdahr being represented by the corpse). Her third husband (Jon being represented by the blue flower) will finally allow her to enter a long and happy marriage (which the vision itself suggests since the blue flower "filled the air with sweetness")

Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. ... mother of dragons, bride of fire ... (ACOK Daenerys V)

The blue flower in the wall of ice is without doubt Jon. And this comes during the bride of fire prophecy, and it’s the third vision of the prophecy, meaning that it will happen during the third phase of Dany’s story, the one that is focused on romantic and sexual love. (x)

5) Dany had her first child killed and miscarried her second child. Her third child (with Jon) will live

She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogo’s copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

When she woke, gasping, her thighs were slick with blood.

For a moment she did not realize what it was. The world had just begun to lighten, and the tall grass rustled softly in the wind. No, please, let me sleep some more. I’m so tired. She tried to burrow back beneath the pile of grass she had torn up when she went to sleep. Some of the stalks felt wet. Had it rained again? She sat up, afraid that she had soiled herself as she slept. When she brought her fingers to her face, she could smell the blood on them. Am I dying? Then she saw the pale crescent moon, floating high above the grass, and it came to her that this was no more than her moon blood.

If she had not been so sick and scared, that might have come as a relief. Instead she began to shiver violently. She rubbed her fingers through the dirt, and grabbed a handful of grass to wipe between her legs. The dragon does not weep. She was bleeding, but it was only woman’s blood. The moon is still a crescent, though. How can that be? She tried to remember the last time she had bled. The last full moon? The one before? The one before that? No, it cannot have been so long as that. (ADWD Daenerys X)

6) Dany is the third of the three queens (after Cersei and Margaery) that Littlefinger is referring to

“...What little peace and order the five kings left us will not long survive the three queens, I fear.”

“Three queens?” She did not understand. (AFFC Alayne II)

7) Dany is the younger more beautiful queen that Cersei is afraid of, which is only fitting since she will be specifically the third of the three candidates (after Sansa and Margaery) that Cersei will suspect

“I will be queen, though?” asked the younger her.

“Aye.” Malice gleamed in Maggy’s yellow eyes. “Queen you shall be ... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.” (AFFC Cersei VIII)

8) Dany couldn't trust the first two Qartheen envoys, only the third

“I have been to the great city Qarth, and returned with three who would look on you with their own eyes.”

Dany stared down at the strangers. “Here I stand. Look, if that is your pleasure ... but first tell me your names.”

The pale man with the blue lips replied in guttural Dothraki, “I am Pyat Pree, the great warlock.”

The bald man with the jewels in his nose answered in the Valyrian of the Free Cities, “I am Xaro Xhoan Daxos of the Thirteen, a merchant prince of Qarth.”

The woman in the lacquered wooden mask said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms, “I am Quaithe of the Shadow. We come seeking dragons.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

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nnightskiess · 5 years

Text

Summary: Daenerys sees her lover get killed right in front of her eyes

“I think we got something you’d want back.”

Cersei’s voice rang through Dany’s head. Her eyes widened upon seeing her beloved Y/N almost crumbling to the ground, but still alive. Daenerys thought she had lost her love in the chaos of the wreckage but there she was.

Y/N’s hands were tight behind her back, her hair was messy and stuck to her face with lumps of mud and blood smeared onto her cheeks. She looked weak, tired, done with life. The guard behind her kicked her in her lower back when the girl fell to her knees, only for her to pick herself up again with a pained expression.

Daenerys had a look in her eyes that made the rest of them want to run. Invisible daggers shot through Cersei’s chest countless times again.

Tyrion looked at his queen, unsure what was going to happen now.

“What would it take for your sister to give my Y/N back, unharmed?” She muttered out through gritted teeth, eyes still fixed on her love.

“Your unconditional surrender, I’m afraid,”

“What happens if I refuse?” The mother of dragons bit the inside of her mouth in anger.

Tyrion prepared himself to answer her question even though he was well aware that Daenerys knew the answer herself far too well. “I fear that Lady Y/N will not live to see the next sunrise.” He answered truthfully.

Daenerys furrowed her eyebrows in worry and anger, thoughts racing through her head but not one deemed useful.

“Let me,” Tyrion tried his best at presenting his queen a comforting smile before he stepped forward. He had grown fond of Y/N as well and didn’t want the innocent girl to suffer any longer. He was also well aware of all the other innocent lives that were at bay at this very moment.

He walked to the gates and stopped when he was close enough to his sister so he didn’t have to shout.

Tyrion looked Cersei in the eyes, hoping to find one bit of humanity still left. “I know you don’t care about your people- why should you? They hate you and you hate them.” Bitterness laced his voice.

“But you are not a monster, I know this. I know this because I’ve seen it. This doesn’t have to be your end. Your reign is over, surrender and you can still live to see a new day,"

Cersei was visibly taking her time to collect some thoughts before she stepped over to Y/N. Meanwhile, Daenerys was holding back her anger and fear, watching in anticipation.

Cersei grabbed the weak girl by her arm which made Daenerys take some steps forward- ready to kill the woman.

"If you have any last words, now is the time.” Y/N heard and ducked her head down upon hearing that sentence. She tried her best to stand tall- even though her limbs were screaming at her- as she tried to search for Dany’s eyes.

The moment she found them, a weak smile made its way onto the girl’s face.

“Be a dragon, my queen,”

Y/N spoke and closed her eyes, waiting for the moment.

A sudden fierce kick in her back sent her body flying over the castle wall. She let it happen, too tired to scream. The ground below her was the last thing the girl saw before the impact of the fall took away her last breath. Her body fell almost right in front of Tyrion’s feet and he winced at the loud thud.

Tyrion looked back at his queen after a few seconds and knew nothing could fix the unbearable aching that took place in Daenerys’ heart or the rising anger in her chest. Her eyes never left the corpse of her beloved Y/N.

Dany heard the low growls of Drogon in the background, who felt how broken his mother was. Without a word, he flew off and landed in front of the gates with a loud thud. Dirt clouds emerged from his sudden landing and many soldiers ran away- accompanied with gasps and screams, giving Drogon enough room to slowly and gently grab onto Y/N’s lifeless body, letting her rest in between his claws.

Dany’s lips trembled as she slowly but surely made her way over to her only dragon left. She sucked in some sobs while climbing onto Drogon, his comfort offering her some peace.

Drogon took off and floated in the air a few seconds, regaining balance before he heard that one golden word:

“Dracarys,”

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys imagine #daenerys one shot #daenerys x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader #khaleesi #khaleese imagine

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writingthrones · 5 years

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idk if you are taking requests from the emotional dialogue prompts but could I request "please don't leave me" with Daenerys"?

I am! Here ya go, ‘non, I hope you like it. Since there was no specification, I kept it gender neutral and you can interpret this as either a platonic or romantic relationship. Sorry this took so long, by the way!

PROMPT. STATUS: ACCEPTING.

WARNINGS: death, blood and lots of angst, i mean how can you not with a prompt like that?

NOTE: because the “mAd QuEeN” storyline was not only stupid but poorly done, we’re not going with that. in this, dany has successfully taken king’s landing without bloodshed-- or so she thought.

LONG MAY SHE REIGN.

The Final War had ended-- and without the death of the innocents in King’s Landing. The people looked upon their new Queen in awe, a seemingly benevolent Targaryen on the back of a creature the world had thought long extinct. Daenerys could hardly believe her eyes. She knew that the throne would one day be hers but to now look upon the people-- her people and see smiling faces, she was on cloud nine. It was a high like no other, getting what you deserve after years and years of hard work. Growing up with only a brother who seemed to despise you now to this. She truly had risen from the ashes. Her story was the kind they’d sing songs about one day.

There was only one thing left to do-- fly Drogon to the Red Keep, rid it of Cersei and sit upon her throne. As she flew, Daenerys could see the people staring up at her, clearly fascinated. The large dragon perched himself on the large castle, allowing for Dany to climb off his back up, onto a balcony and into the building. It was so silent at first that you could probably hear a pin drop. But then she heard shouting coming from somewhere-- so naturally, she ran in the direction it had come from. The ashen haired woman knew that her advisors were probably scrambling for the Keep, wanting to keep her safe. She had always been impulsive, something Tyrion had tried to warn her about when she so quickly agreed to go beyond The Wall. But she needed to know.

She finally found herself in the Throne Room, spotting the Kingslayer and his sister arguing. Daenerys felt rage, a bloodthirsty rage, as she saw her-- the woman who took Missandei away. Before she could get any closer, though, she watched as Jaime thrust the dagger into the blonde woman’s heart. Her eyes went wide, feeling both anger and relief. She wanted to be the one to end her life. Still, there was solace in the fact that she was now gone-- killed by the one she loved most. It was a well-deserved end.

“To our Queen, long may she reign!” Y/N shouted, lifting up a beautiful bottle of wine she’d found. Daenerys turned around, grinning at them. The others in the room then began to cheer-- holding their various containers of ale up high, spilling them. Right now was a time for only the Queen’s most inner circle. Y/N, Grey Worm, Tyrion, Jon, his sisters (who were finally starting to warm up), Jaime, surprisingly, and the newly named Lord of Storm’s End, Gendry. The all chugged their drinks, with Y/N chuckling as the red liquid accidentally spilled down the corners of their mouth.

“If you’ll excuse me, my lords, ladies,” Y/N nodded their head in each direction, finally turning to Daenerys. “Your Grace,” they said, the biggest grin lighting up their face. The individual then sauntered to the balcony, wishing to enjoy the view of the entire city while the sun disappeared. “Y/N,” the Queen said softly as she made her way to their side. The both of them took in the view.

“Is it everything you were hoping for?” they asked, still scanning each and every area of the city. Music and loud voices were heard all around-- were they celebrating? “Yes,” Daenerys sounded breathless. “I’m glad,” they replied. Y/N had been at Dany’s side from the very beginning, a Dothraki who welcomed the Khaleesi and did everything to bring her into their culture. The Queen often praised them for helping her win them over, seeing as they would spend hours each and every day trying to teach her the language. Daenerys isn’t quite sure where she’d be without them but she was lucky to not have to find out. Losing Missandei had been hard on the both of them but at least they still had each other.

Then, something was... wrong. Y/N felt pain all throughout their body but mostly in their head. “I--” they couldn’t make out any words, the pain was so unbearable. Panicked, Daenerys turned to them. Her facial expression was pure devastation as she watched blood begin to drip out of their nose and mouth, still struggling to speak. “No-- Y/N, what’s going on?!” She the grabbed hold of them as their strength began to fail them. “Da--” Why couldn’t they speak?! The pair was then on the ground, with the Queen staring down at Y/N in her lap. Tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto the other’s face. “Please don’t leave me,” she wept, holding them tight. But they were already gone.

#Anonymous #game of thrones imagine #daenerys targaryen imagine #game of thrones one shot #daenerys targaryen one shot #request.

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zcldrizes-a · 4 years

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— 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 : “ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝. ”

i. Yet that night she dreamt of one. Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You woke the dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon.” Her thighs were slick with blood. She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. She had never been so afraid.

ii. Yet when she slept that night, she dreamt the dragon dream again. Viserys was not in it this time. There was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed. Its eyes were pools of molten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She could hear it singing to her. She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blacken and slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and fierce.

iii. Dany gave the silver over to the slaves for grooming and entered her tent. It was cool and dim beneath the silk. As she let the door flap close behind her, Dany saw a finger of dusty red light reach out to touch her dragon’s eggs across the tent. For an instant a thousand droplets of scarlet flame swam before her eyes. She blinked, and they were gone.

iv. Stone, she told herself. They are only stone, even Illyrio said so, the dragons are all dead. She put her palm against the black egg, fingers spread gently across the curve of the shell. The stone was warm. Almost hot. “The sun,” Dany whispered. “The sun warmed them as they rode.”

v. “Khaleesi, “ Jhiqui said, “what is wrong? Are you sick?” “I was,” she answered, standing over the dragon’s eggs that Illyrio had given her when she wed. She touched one, the largest of the three, running her hand lightly over the shelf. Black-and- scarlet, she thought, like the dragon in my dream. The stone felt strangely warm beneath her fingers… or was she still dreaming? She pulled her hand back nervously.

I think the first thing to note here is that, from very early on, we have it established to us that Daenerys is something unique. Not everyone bonded to dragons dreams of them – though we know that Aemon did ( I see them in my dreams, Sam. I see a red star bleeding in the sky. I still remember red. I see their shadows on the snow, hear the crack of leathern wings, feel their hot breath. My brothers dreamed of dragons too, and their dreams killed them, every one. ) but as the readers, we get no real indication that Viserys did. And given he’s presented to be the actual dragon at first, though we learn quickly that is not the case, I think the message here that we take from this is simple: Daenerys was always fated to be the mother of dragons, and Daenerys was always fated to be the first rider in centuries.

Firstly, I want to quickly clear something up: despite what the show neglected to portray, Daenerys loves all three of her children in equal form, even if in different ways. I won’t link all of the proof of that here – that can happen in another meta if someone really wants it – but I think the thing to note is that even though all three are her children, one of them is necessarily more equal to her in her own state of mind in the sense of him being her mount. She loves her children and wants to protect them, yes: but to protect them, she would need Drogon’s help, realistically. That means in her own mind, she will always view him as an equal, and someone she fights alongside, whilst Viserion and Rhaegal can’t be viewed in the same lense because she isn’t bonded to them in the way dragonlore states ( quickly on dragonlore: I mix my own canon for writing it, as most people know, from a concoction of asoiaf canon, Eragon, HTTYD, etc ). She can attempt to protect them: but Drogon protects her. Drogon is her equal, in that sense. It doesn’t mean she loves him more, it means she loves him differently. I’m happy to extend my thoughts on her actions in locking Viserion and Rhaegal up, but in my own state of mind, and I think established relatively decently in some forms of canon, Daenerys does regret what she had to do. With that in mind, it’s something she would have done to all three if she had a chance, for the sake of the people she was ruling.

Secondly, before I go into specifics about her bond with Drogon, a general note about the dragons bonding: I do prescribe to the very established canon that only those with Valyrian blood have the ability to ride dragons. We know from Martin’s canon that Valyrian Dragonlords used magic to bind the dragons to them – and that can explain the many references to the blood of the dragon, specifically. That’s to suggest that the blood carried on from Valyrian descendants still contains that bond, however diluted through the ages. There are of course some exceptions to this, and those usually come from extenuating circumstances: but with Dany’s dragons, we see in canon that they are resistant to just anyone riding them. Quentyn Martell’s death after trying to mount Viserion – admittedly at the hands of Rhaegal – confirms that they don’t tolerate just anyone, and it’s also important to note that Daenerys was the first dragonrider in a century and a half. The exception I make for my own canon is @killthebxy and his Jon riding Rhaegal, and the explanation for this is simple: after months of bonding, and under the canon where no other Valyrian blooded people exist, and also in a context where Viserion is dead and Drogon has a rider already, it makes sense that Rhaegal would crave a rider so badly that he would bond with another. With that being said, we also know from canon that a dragon once bonded will not allow anyone else to ride them ( unless their rider is also present ). That means no, your muse cannot ride Drogon without Daenerys there. He doesn’t want it, and she wouldn’t allow it, so don’t try it.

…it was said that even Aegon the Conquerer never dared mount Vhagar or Meraxes, nor did his sisters mount Balerion the Black Dread. Dragons live longer than men, some for hundreds of years, so Balerion had other riders after Aegon died… but no rider ever flew two dragons.

Now, I’m going to break this up into a few different sections to write.

- oo1. BOND FORMATION.

The important thing to note here is that I personally think the bond began long before Daenerys actually rode Drogon. We see within canon in her dreaming days that when dreaming of the dragons, Dany always dreams of the black. It’s no coincidence that Drogon was born to bear her House colours, nor is it coincidence that he is often called Balerion ( Khaleesi … there sits Balerion, come again. ) whilst she herself is paralleled to Aegon the Conqueror ( She is the widow of a Dothraki khal, a mother of dragons and sacker of cities, Aegon the Conqueror with teats. ) – this sets up in a very visceral manner that this is what Martin’s intention was, to establish this bond very early on. We know that in hatching the dragons, Daenerys had known for an incredibly long time what she was going to do to hatch those dragons, and we can see that in the following few passages, that she references her intent and the pre-emptive nature of what she’s about to do, before it’s DROGON’S egg that she lifts first. ( This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn, and it’s so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet… Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals. The black scales seemed to glow as they drank the heat. Flames licked against the stone with small red tongues. Dany placed the other two eggs beside the black one in the fire. ) Between the dreams and the following few pieces of evidence, we know her intent was established early on.

i. “You will not hear me scream,” Mirri responded as the oil dripped from her hair and soaked her clothing. “I will,” Dany said, “but it is not your screams I want, only your life. I remember what you told me. Only death can pay for life.” Mirri Maz Duur opened her mouth, but made no reply. As she stepped away, Dany saw that the contempt was gone from the maegi’s flat black eyes; in its place was something that might have been fear. Then there was nothing to be done but watch the sun and look for the first star.

ii. Jhogo spied it first. “There, “ he said in a hushed voice. Dany looked and saw it, low in the east. The first star was a comet, burning red. Bloodred; fire red; the dragon’s tail. She could not have asked for a stronger sign.

iii. She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough.

Throughout the younger years of the dragon’s development, both book and show canon seems to build the hatchlings to some degree, but it is Drogon we so often get more of a glimpse into. Very often, it is Drogon who is perched on her shoulder ( as he in in the arrival to Qarth ) or on her lap ( as he is when she is informed of Robert Baratheon’s death ). We also know in the House of the Undying that it is Drogon who accompanies her, and who protects her and allows her to escape, in book canon – and in show canon, that it is Drogon who is the first to respond to her command for fire in burning those who leave her in chains. By the time we get to the Sack of Astapor, I think the fact it is Drogon who she offers up as part of her plan speaks volumes: she knows that he will respond to her command, and she knows that he will not hesitate to do so. By this point, it’s very established that of all three dragons, he is the one already utilised the most in her plans, and the one who she clearly gravitates to most centrally.

We then reach the stages of Drogon’s rebellious years. Regardless of whether or not he intended to burn the child – dragons are intelligent, he likely knew what he did – we can either read Drogon’s absence as one of two things. Either he can tell that Daenerys is disappointed in him for what happened, or perhaps horrified with himself; or more likely, he knows that as much as Daenerys is on the cusp of becoming a woman, she is not ready to be his rider yet. I think the show gives us a really beautiful moment here, where she reaches for him, and she is unsure and he flies away before she can touch him; he knows that she isn’t ready for him yet. By default, by this point I believe Drogon knew that she was supposed to ride him – and that is confirmed when he comes to save her at the fighting pits. Now, here’s where I take issue with the books: the only way that I will accept the necessity of Drogon needing to be beaten into command is if he was truly so confused and feral after months away that it took him several moments to recognise her. In my own canon, I do think the show had the better iteration here: he trusted her, and their bond allowed her to mount him, because that was what he was born for.

By the time we get the first flight, it’s not the bond being formed: it’s the final step to formation. When we talk about dragon bonds, I think it means more than a human and pet; dragons are intelligent, and they are magical. For them to bond with a human means something special: Daenerys and Drogon are the literal entity of soulmates, because their souls were born to be connected. He is an ever present feeling at the back of her mind, and likewise, she is with him always, no matter how far apart they are. That goes deeper than any love, any kind of familiar connection; they are part of each other, and this journey up until now was just about finding their way to that point and establishing / building it.

- oo2. EMOTIONS / COMMUNICATION.

Drogon raised his head, blood dripping from his teeth. The hero leapt onto his back and drove the iron spearpoint down at the base of the dragon’s long scaled neck. Dany and Drogon screamed as one.

As an extension of the headcanon that they are soulmates, I think this reads very simple as follows: they understand the emotions that the other is feeling. They feel pain, that the other is feeling. It isn’t as tangible as Drogon getting hurt and Daenerys aching in the same spot – but more that she feels that he is suffering, and there’s an overwhelming desire to help. We get some of that again, from the show, where he is struck in 7.04 and her first instinct upon landing is to remove the spear – and even in the pain addled state of mind that follows for him, the moment she sees Jaime and we see her fear, Drogon responds. We get it again in 7.06, when Viserion is killed; on Dany’s face, we get shock, and though she is mourning clearly in the later parts of the episode, her reaction is reserved. For Drogon, whilst she is silent, he is screaming for his fallen sibling. And yes, that be construed as part of his grief – but likely, it’s because he is feeling for the both of them.And lastly, we get a beautiful moment of this in 8.03, when Dany is crying for Jorah, and Drogon’s response is to curl around her and coo to her. This isn’t a protective stance - the battle has ended, and he’s low, not on alert. He’s close to her, making soft noises, and that body language communicates comfort, not anything else. He feels her grief, and he feels it himself, and so he lays close to her to offer whatever he can.

Communication between them is not quite so blatant as thinking commands to the other, but simply instead, that they can sense what the other wants. Likely, Dany was idly chattering to Drogon before handing him to the Masters at the Sack of Astapor, because she knew he would know what to do without command. And though she talks to the dragons in Valyrian, it’s not a language they were likely born knowing ( and if they did, likely, they knew others to ) – so more than likely, it’s not the words that Drogon responds to, but the intent behind each of them. And the deeper that bond goes, the more we see ( again, more viscerally on the show ) that he responds without question – in executing enemies, or even in the gentleness by which he carries her, lets her down, by the way he bristles when people disrespect her. The communication between them is far more primal and intimate than language; it’s spoken by hearts and minds forged together in the flames.

- oo3. FLIGHT NAVIGATION.

Again, an extension of the above, but when it comes to flight navigations, we have no need here for the way that Daenerys commanded Drogon in the books ( The dragonlords of old Valyria had controlled their mounts with binding spells and sorcerous horns. Daenerys made do with a word and a whip. Mounted on the dragon’s back, she oft felt as if she were learning to ride all over again. When she whipped her silver mare on her right flank the mare went left, for a horse’s first instinct is to flee from danger. When she laid the whip across Drogon’s right side he veered right, for a dragon’s first instinct is always to attack. Sometimes it did not seem to matter where she struck him, though; sometimes he went where he would and took her with him. Neither whip nor words could turn Drogon if he did not wish to be turned. The whip annoyed him more than it hurt him, she had come to see; his scales had grown harder than horn. ) – this implies that Drogon needed to be beat into submission, and while he was more stubborn and juvenile then, he was still her intended and her bonded.

So when we talk about flight navigation, my canon is as follows: they work together. Dany knows, mostly, where she wants to go – and Drogon knows how to get them there. For the most, he follows what she wants if it is specifically the reason they’re travelling; but in situations in battles, etc, he will also move without need of command, always to protect his mother. The one (1) time that she falls from him in my canon, it is not his fault, and he never forgives himself for it. Drogon’s flying style is rougher than most other dragons would be – he’s large, he’s animalistic, and he’s never truly understood how fragile she is when it comes to him, because he perceives his mother as so strong. Hence why she cuts her hands from holding on, or bruises so badly from him thrashing around, or her thighs get cut from the way she grips his scales through her clothes. They work together, and for the most part, neither think twice about it.

- oo4. EXTERNAL RELATIONSHIPS.

It’s as simple as this – if Daenerys doesn’t like someone, Drogon likely hates that someone. In no world does he ever give a moment’s time to someone who she has no connection with; which is why it can be construed that Drogon tolerates people like Doreah, or Jorah, or Jon. Because of the emotional connection between them, this transfers to the way he connects with people she loves: by default, he feels at the least some sort of loyalty, or urge to protect them. Firstly, this is because he knows that she cares for them, and that if anything happened to them, she would be sad. Secondly, because he feels that emotion for them himself as a result of the bond. And thirdly, because he has likely had some further interactions as a result, which formulate his own bond with them independent of his mother’s emotions.

With that being said, there is never, ever a situation where Drogon would chose another person over his mother. It doesn’t matter what she becomes or what she does to anyone else – no singular person, or groups of people are as important as a rider to a dragon. And likewise, even if Daenerys were to have human children, she would never stop viewing the dragons as her own children too, or treating them as such. Those relationships, even to her, come beneath the bond she has with Drogon. And even when it comes to the other dragons, she loves them with all of her heart, but she will never feel the closeness she does with Drogon because he’s not just in her heart, he’s in her mind.

- oo5. IF EITHER DIED.

Lastly, talking about the potential of death for either of them. For dragons, their life span far outlasts their riders – and Daenerys hopes that long after she is gone, he will find someone ( in her own bloodline, or other ) whom he might feel that bond with. With that being said, she isn’t just his rider to him, but also his mother, which means if she died, that grief would transcend what a dragon might normally feel for their rider’s death. Unlike what we see in the series finale, if someone were to cause her death, then regardless of who that person was to Drogon, he would not hold back his revenge from the person who took her from him – this bond is more than a normal dragon and rider, he was born to be with her, birthed by her, raised by her, and lived by her side for all of his life. This would be the first time he wouldn’t feel her with him, and that would cripple him, to know that he would live for centuries with that presence void in his life.

If the situation were flipped, and Drogon was lost to her, I believe Daenerys would feel that grief on a physical level, as well as emotional. Drogon is warmth and strength at the back of her mind and thoughts – she would not feel warm again, without him there. Would never feel as strong, without him there. Would never be able to replicate that emotional bond with another being or entity, without him there. Would constantly be calling for him, constantly searching for him in the skies. That would be a loss that she would never, ever recover from – and I believe in that instance, she would crave the reunion with him in death, though she might not go so far as harming herself. It would transcend her desire to see anyone else in the afterlife – she would be focused exclusively on seeing her child again, and being with him again.

Having a part of one’s soul ripped away would physically hurt, and that is what they would both feel.

#i. meta. » dragons plant no trees. «#long post cw #long post

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asknightqueendany · 5 years

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why did you say 'Dany may die in asoiaf'? She's totally dying, she died in the show, she'll die in the books too, there's no hope left

I can’t tell if this is a debbie downer Dany fan or an anti irritated I still love Dany and have hope for her to live in the books...

Either way, WTF anon?

And either way, please check out THIS post which I reblogged recently.

In the post/email, GRRM says this:

“I feel for you and understand your concerns, but I think you will be more satisfied with the books’ ending. Imagine that the books are the show are two parallel universes. There are two Briennes, two Jaimes, two Cerseis. Have you watched Sliding Doors? Sometimes taking a different path changes everything. Have you noticed that the dream might have more than one potential ending? Is Jaime’s ending in the show necessarily “wrong”? Can’t it be an ending which was the result of choices made and paths taken (by more than one character)? What if Jaime caught the train in one universe and missed in the other? Just food for thought…”

I’ve never seen the movie George is referring to but the poster says this of the film:

“it’s a romantic comedy that alternates between two storylines, showing two paths the central character’s life could take depending on whether or not she catches a train. There’s some overlap in the two storylines, but she stays in a bad relationship in one version, and finds a healthy relationship in the other. She dies in one version, and lives in the other.”

“She dies in one version and lives in the other.”

Now, granted, the email is about Jaime and Brienne, not Daenerys. But George has said in many interviews the same sentiments echoed in this email, that the show took turns the books didn’t, that these creative differences form a butterfly effect, that while the ending on the show is “an” ending, it’s not “the” ending per se, that the show and books are like “alternate realities” existing side by side, and that he told D&D things many years ago about what he planned and “some of them the did do, but at the same time it’s different.”

At the end of 8x06, Sam very clearly tells Bran, when Bran asks about Drogon, that Drogon (presumably with Dany’s body cuz he flew away with it) was headed East toward Volan-- and then Bronn cuts him off. However, I think it’s safe to say Sam was about to say Volantis. This isn’t in the Emmy script, but he John Bradley wouldn’t have improvised something so crucial as that, especially since D&D shot the shit out of the final episode and took days, even weeks to do a single scene. They would have told JB to say the Volantis thing.

Which opens up a can of worms not addressed in the episode. Why is Drogon flying East, toward Volantis? Many speculate that because it’s where the Red Priests are and that Dany will be resurrected. Even if you aren’t a Dany fan and/or don’t want her brought back, it’s still a highly suspect thing for Sam to mention and a highly suspect place.

Drogon could have been flying for Old Valyria, the Dothraki Sea, Naath, Braavos, Slaver’s Bay...any location in the world. But he’s flying specifically to the place where there is a temple with a bunch of people who have the power to bring the dead back to life.

So, if it’s hinted at in the show that Dany was/will be brought back, I think it’s safe to say there’s at least the same possibility in the books--or that Dany won’t need to be brought back because she’ll never be killed in the first place.

If one version she lives and one she dies, we got the version where she dies, so perhaps the book version she will live, like the movie Sliding Door.

So whether anon is an anti or Dany fan, I don’t care.

I don’t necessarily trust George completely, but I will take the hope where I can get it. If you don’t want to hear/read it, kindly get off my blog.

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castielsbeelove · 5 years

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Daenerys x Reader: Queen of the Six Kingdoms

Request: Hi! Can you do a fic where the reader saves Daenerys from Jon, stabbing him in the back right before he stabs Dany, and when she sees the knife in his hand she realizes that she must have been doing something wrong if the man she thought loved her was going to kill her. And she makes some changes? Thanks!

Warning: Death of a major character, angst, cursing.

Pairing: Daenerys x Reader

A/N: I tried to be as realistic as I could with this, hopefully, I got Arya and Sansa’s reactions done well enough. I hope you enjoy this!

Ashes burned your nostrils as you ran up the steps towards the castle, pushing past Dothraki soldiers. You had just finished talking to Tyrion and you knew what Jon was about to do. You couldn’t let it happen.

“You’re too late.” Arya’s voice rung in your ears as you neared the entrance, where Drogon had slowly begun to wake.

“You too?” You panted, looking down at the girl. She wanted your queen dead as well? Had they all been planning this the entire time? Your stomach churned and you felt sick. What if they were planning on killing you as well?

She just turned away and looked to the ashes raining down from the sky, sighing. “It should have been done earlier. And if you’d seen what I’ve seen here, you’d think the same.”

You knew Daenerys had gotten a little lost on the way, it was true. But she was still in there somewhere, you just needed to figure out how to get her back.

You pushed past Arya and ran inside, having to duck under Drogon’s head. Arya would have followed you if she didn’t think Daenerys was already dead. And you thought so too.

When you burst through the doors, your dress tattered from catching on the ruins of the city, you saw you hadn’t been too late. Daenerys and Jon were in an embrace, you heard him speaking to her in a hushed tone.

Maybe Tyrion was wrong, maybe Jon wasn’t going to do what you thought he would. But then you saw his hand reaching for his knife.

It was true. The last man Daenerys thought she could trust, the man she loved, reaching for the knife he’d end her life with. She risked her life multiple times for him, one of her dragons dying in the process. She helped defeat his greatest enemy, saving him and Westeros from the White Walkers. And this is how he thanked her for it?

Your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough. You could see as his hand wrapped around the hilt of his knife, slowly pulling it from his belt.

In the distance, you could hear stone rumbling as Drogon shifted in his place beneath the castle. He knew his mother was in danger, but he wouldn’t be quick enough. You had to save her for him.

The sound of steel pushing through skin was sickening. The sound of her gasp was even worse. She looked down between her and Jon, her eyes widening and her lips parting. She fought to say something but no words came out. She took in the sight before her, blood dripping onto the ground between them, Jon’s hand on his knife, and your horrified expression behind him.

His knife fell from his shaking fingers, clattering on the stone floor and he took a few steps back. He bumped into you and you stepped aside, drawing your dagger from his back. Outside, the flap of Drogon’s wings could be heard as he flew up to his mother.

Seeing Jon, a man you once had so much admiration for, fall dying onto the floor in a pool of blood, it was shattering, to say the least. He shouldn’t die like this. He deserved better, he was doing what he thought was right, but you knew it was the only way to protect Daenerys.

Daenerys fell to her knees beside him, tears burning her eyes as she watched him die. You watched as his lips fumbled to make words. What else did he have to say? You clenched your teeth and looked away, wishing it didn’t have to end like this, while wondering what was next.

When Arya and Sansa found out they’d want you and Daenerys dead. When Greyworm found out Jon tried to kill Daenerys he’d want every Stark dead.

He took his last breath and his eyes hazed over, his head gently rolling to the side. Daenerys choked back a sob and sniffled, closing her eyes. Not only did she have to watch him die, but she knew he died trying to end her life.

“Khaleesi, we need to-”

“Have I become a monster?” She glanced up at you with eyes full of pain. You’d never seen her like this. Not when Missandei was murdered, not when Jorah died in her arms. This was much worse. The man she thought she would marry and rule the Seven Kingdoms with had tried to kill her. And in such an awful way.

You knelt down beside her. “You got a little lost, Khaleesi. But anyone would. You’ve seen two of your children die. Your two closest friends killed. You were doing what you thought was right. But now, you need to do what is truly right.”

“And what is that?”

Drogon could be heard climbing into the room, knocking over brick and rubble. Daenerys turned to look at him and she forced a smile before looking back down to Jon’s body.

“You need to let Tyrion have a trial. And you need to prove that you’ll be a good queen. Begin building the city, and let Sansa have the North. Don’t ask her to bend the knee to you.”

Her eyes remained on Jon and she slowly nodded. “How do we tell them about this?”

“I’ll tell them what happened. I’ll be the one put on trial. They can judge me along with Tyrion.”

Daenerys shook her head, shifting on her knees closer to you. “I will not have one of my last friends put on trial. Sansa and Arya will want you killed for what you’ve done.”

Drogon’s nostrils flared as he smelt Jon’s blood. Confused chirps sounded from him and he looked from you to Daenerys, trying to figure out what happened. For a moment you were worried he would turn on you since Jon was a Targaryen and you killed him. But he slid forward towards Daenerys to provide her comfort, nuzzling her with his snout.

“It needs to be done. You need to show them you won't just pardon your friends, you need to let them see you know true justice.”

***

You followed the unsullied through the halls, Greyworm at your side and Tyrion behind you. The silence was thick in the air, ringing so hard in your ears you thought you’d go deaf. Ahead of you, Daenerys, Sansa, Arya, Yara, Ser Davos, Sam and a group of other people you didn’t recognize. The Stark girls looked furious, Arya ready to jump out of her seat and kill you herself. If it wasn’t for Greyworm beside you and Drogon crouched behind the tent you were sure you’d be dead.

When you came to a stop in front of the group you swallowed hard. What were you going to say? What were they going to say?

“Why is she here?” Yara was the first to speak, referring to you.

“She killed Jon Snow.” Sansa snapped while Arya glared daggers into you.

“She saved our Queen from a man who was about to kill her.” She responded, keeping steady eye contact with Sansa. “She was doing her duty. She shouldn’t be on trial, she should be given a damn castle.”

“Tyrion, please step forward,” Daenerys spoke, her calm voice a pleasant change from the two. You kept your eyes on the ground as Tyrion walked forward. His judgment would be much kinder than yours.

“You will be pardoned for your acts of treason against me.” The words surprised everyone, especially the man on trial. He looked up and furrowed his brows, not knowing what to say.

From your spot you chewed on your bottom lip, barely listening to the rest of the trial. You only looked up when Daenerys called your name.

“As my hand, Tyrion, what do you suggest I do with her?” You missed a lot. Tyrion must have been made hand to the queen again.

“You need to execute her.” Arya’s voice was full of venom. “Do it. With your dragon. She killed your lover.”

“Arya, please,” Tyrion spoke the voice of reason, “No more killing.”

“I want her dead. It’s the only way justice can be served.”

Sam watched from the sidelines, torn between wanting you punished for killing his best friend and knowing you were only doing your duty. You had committed no crimes. Everyone knew it, even the Stark girls.

“If we kill her for saving the Queen then we should kill Samwell for reading books. She should not be punished for this.” Tyrion hated saying it but he knew there was nothing you could be charged with.

“Then, you will be pardoned.” Daenerys stood up and the Unsullied guards that stood beside her stepped forward. “Is there anything else?”

Arya hadn’t taken her eyes off you the entire time. You could feel her eyes on you, and you knew in her mind she was killing you in a thousand different ways.

“The North won’t bend the knee to you. You’ll be Queen of the Six Kingdoms, and if you oppose to this, it will come to war.” Sansa had already made her mind up, there would be no talking her out of it.

Daenerys looked to you and you gave a small nod that went unnoticed to anyone who didn’t know you had talked her into this. She sighed and turned to Sansa, nodding.

You smiled at her and soon the meeting was over. The following weeks were much better than the months before. You rebuilt Kings Landing with more gardens, feeding what remained of the population. For once they went to bed with full stomachs.

The ports were rebuilt and there were more houses made so no one would need to sleep outside. Along with that, you donated every piece of gold in your name to your people, ensuring any problems they had under Cersei were no more. They were clothed in proper garments, could buy their own horses, they all had a place to sleep and as much food as they needed. For once, all felt right in the city.

You took comfort knowing that if Jon Snow could see Daenerys now, he would be proud of her.

#daenerys targaryen #Daenerys #daenerys stormborn #daenerys x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones x reader #myfanfic #request #jon snow #arya stark

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asoiafdrabbles · 4 years

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I.39

Grey Worm finds Jon in the throne room with blood on his hands.

Gen, Jon & Grey Worm (GoT AU)

Grey Worm heard the screaming, even as faint as it was, and took off running. It was the throne room, which would have been secure, every entrance into that section of the keep had been guarded, but he wouldn't bet on it being impossible for an assassin to sneak in.

But there was no one there when he barged in but Jon Snow, who was clutching his head with bloody hands and screaming hysterically.

There was more blood on the floor and where once there had been a throne there was just melted metal. But Daenerys, who Grey Worm expected to find, wasn't there, nor was Drogon, who had surely been the one to burn the throne.

"What is it?" he demanded, kneeling beside Jon and shaking him. "What has happened?"

Jon looked at him, finally, eyes wide and red from crying. "Dany," he whispered, making Grey Worm tense. "I--I didn't...I...."

"Queen Daenerys was here? Where is she now?"

"Drogon took her."

The edge of hysteria was building back up in Jon's voice and Grey Worm gripped his shoulders tighter, grounding him. He'd seen Jon face many enemies without breaking down, have his identity torn down around him without such a reaction. He couldn't understand what had caused him to be like this.

"She flew off on Drogon?"

"He took her. He...he took her body." Jon pulled away, hunching in on himself again. "I killed her! I killed her!"

It felt as though the floor had fallen from beneath Grey Worm's feet. The words took a long time to register, because they made no sense to him.

"I don't know why," Jon continued, hugging himself, rocking back and forth. "I loved her! We were kissing and it--it just--it felt--I had to. At that moment I had to. I don't know why I did it!"

Grey Worm wanted to rage, wanted to shove Jon to the ground and beat him until he couldn't move. But he hesitated, remembering his Queen's paranoia before, remembering the strange magics of the North. If the Starks had wanted to murder his Queen, what better way to do it than by using her nephew as the weapon?

"Did you plan to kill her?"

"No! No! I wanted...I wanted to talk, to reason with her, not...not that. What have I done? What have I done?"

Jon opened his mouth to start screaming again and Grey Worm stopped him with a firm, but not strong slap. He needed to think and couldn't through Jon's breakdown.

"What were you doing before meeting her here?"

Blinking, Jon seemed to try to focus again. "I had...spoken to Tyrion, to try to...to find out why he'd betrayed us."

Us, he said, not simply Daenerys.

"And then you came to speak to her?"

"Yes. I...hadn't been going to. I just...I felt like I needed to. And we spoke, and we...we kissed. And then I...."

Grey Worm did not think Jon Snow had betrayed them. Not with how broken, how wretched he looked.

There were many magics to control the mind. He'd seen them in Essos. He'd heard the story of the male Stark using a human like Jon Snow could use his wolf.

There was noise from outside and he glanced through the broken door, seeing a contingent of his own men. Standing, he motioned to them to take Jon away. "He needs bathed, and sleep. Do not let anyone in to see him. If there are any red priests in this place, send one to me. The Queen is...indisposed."

They would need Jon Snow in his right state of mind if they were to find out what truly happened. He could only hope that the blow had not been as deadly as Jon thought, that Drogon had taken Daenerys to get help. But regardless of the state their Queen was in, someone would pay for this betrayal.

Notes: One of the many, many things that bugged me about the GoT series finale was how the fuck anyone could find out AND prove that Jon had murdered Dany. Which got me thinking of his reaction and also how hugely unlikely it would seem to anyone that knew him that he just up and stabbed his aunt.

#character: jon snow #character: grey worm #verse: got au

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queentargary3n · 5 years

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After Ice and Fire

Summary: Daenerys is brought back to life by a red priestess in Volantis, it's a terrible thing for a Targaryen to be alone in the word, but this Dragon will not be alone much longer. Post s8.

Chapter 1

She could feel the burning of the sun on her skin. She could not open her eyes. Every breath she took felt like acid pouring down her throat and into her lungs. The realization of not knowing where she was and the massive pain on her chest nearly caused her to panic, but the slow growl of her dragon, breathing next to her eased her mind.

Daenerys Targaryen attempted to concentrate on moving, first her toes, then her fingers, then her arms, and hands, every joint in her body painfully resisted the movements she was attempting to make. Finally, able to open her eyes, she felt blind, for her eyes refused to adjust to the brightness.

She was laying on sand, she noted, she took a fistful of it when closing her fist. Still blind, the world seemed to be nothing but blurred shadows, she moved into a seated position, and Dany noted the presence of another person. "Where am I? Who else is in here? I can hear you; I demand you present yourself!"

“I am Kinvara, your grace, the red priestess, we are on the desert, near Volantis, your dragon brought you to me by the will of the Lord of Light”

Dany has never felt so helpless or so confused. Her eyes started to adjust to the light of the sun, the pain on her chest ceased slowly and she noticed she was naked, out on the open. She was then able to see the Red Women, still young and beautiful, she bore the same crimson robes typical of the red priests and priestesses of Rhollor.

“I had just seized Kings Landing, the unsullied, Jo….” The sudden recollection felt like a hit to her stomach, she felt breathless, the gigantic knot on her throat threaten to choke her.

“Fear not, your grace, for the night is dark and full of terrors, but the Lord of Light has brought both of you back, for a glorious destiny” The red priestess explained, seeing the panic on Daenerys eyes, she grabbed both of Dany’s hands to help her stand. Her legs felt stiff and trembled to hold her weight. She took a wet drag from a basin full of water, and ran it through Dany's body, a cleansing ritual, she called it, the red women then enveloped a red silk gown on the queen

Dany was struggling to fully recall her last memories; riding Drogon, burning King’s Landing until it was naught but aches, she had a feeling of regrets at that. She had promised she was not her father, different than the tyrant he had been, but she still ended up becoming the queen of ashes. Daenerys felt ashamed, she thought it was her destiny, to recover what was hers by fire and blood, but she was not so certain anymore. She approached her dragon, caressing his scaly skin, he whined as she rested her forehead against his head. He was bigger than she remembered.

“I remember, I was about to reach the Iron throne, and then there was blackness, nothing more. What happened, tell me now” she demanded.

“You did, your grace, but the Iron throne is no more, and the wheel was not broken, you were lost and you were betrayed, and Rhollor has brought you both back, back to life through me, because he still has plans for you” the red women replied.

Dany instinctively reached for her chest, pulled her gown open, and felt for the newly healed gash underneath her breast. Tears were pouring down her face, never in her life had she felt such sadness. Jon…

“You said you brought us both back?” She said, sadly looking up at last dragon, the last of her children, and wondered who might’ve have hurt him too.

“Yes your grace, you see, I was wrong before, the Prince who was promised was neither you, nor the others, the Prince who was promised has to be brought out of a King and Queen, the chosen one has yet to be born, and the Lord of light has brought him back to finally fulfill the prophecies” She explained, all while she approached Daenerys, opened her gown and placed a tender hand on her stomach.

“That’s not possible… the witch…” She objected sadly; she could still remember what the witch said to her.

“She was no witch, your grace, and she had no magic, I have seen it all in the flames, your body had to recover from the unfortunate death of your child, that sort of heeling takes time”

“But my husband…” she replied softly, struggling to wrap her head around what the red women had to say. It was as if everything she was ever told was a lie, everything she knew was a lie.

“your Khal was killed by infection, and the infection ate his mind, nothing more, your grace”

“And you brought us back…” she responded, she was thinking of all the people she had lost, all the sorrow she had to endure.

“The Lord of Light brought you back your grace, because he still has a plan for you both” The red priestess replied, knowing what the Queen wanted to ask. “You need to reunite your armies, you will fly to Naath to retrieve your unsullied, you will reclaim the Dorthraki, you will recover your ships and sail again to Westeros and reclaim the realm as is your right, not only by birth but by rule of conquering, and your child will reign over the world, bringing to the common people the faith of Rhollor”

“I will do no such thing” Daenerys objected forcefully. “Every single thing I’ve ever done was because someone order it to me, because of who I was, because it was expected of me, I will do no more, all I ever wanted was a home, I don’t care about destiny anymore or my ancestors or the future, I will now do as I please, my own choice out of my own convictions”

Daenerys closed her gown, and decidedly stepped to reach drogon, her hands resting lovingly on her stomach.

“It’s the prophecy your grace” Kinvara said, attempting to reason with Daenerys, but she did not move towards her, she stood, in the same place, holding her hands together, her long red tresses waiving with the wind.

“I do not believe in prophecies any more” Daenerys replied, as she reached to ride her dragon and flew away, leaving the red priestess alone in the desert.

“You can’t escape your destiny, the Lord of Light will show you, it will find you wherever you go” she yelled at last, before Drogo gained too much height. And she saw the dragon fly away, knowing, since she had seen it in the fires, before she even encountered Drogon carrying Daenerys lifeless body, on the skirts of Old Volantis, what faith awaited, Daenerys Targaryen, and also certain now of how to serve the Lord of Light’s will.

Chapter 2

Please visit the amazing artist who created the image, Mel Schroeder. Instagram

#got fanfiction #jonerys #daenerys targaryen #jon x daenerys #jonerys fanfic #boatbaby #game of thrones

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gracelight87 · 5 years

Text

Sins I Can’t Mention

Happy Jonerys Week everyone! Here is my Day 1 contribution.

Sins I Can’t Mention - A collection of post-war Jonerys drabbles.

Read on Ao3.

***

Rhaella and Robb Targaryen were the spitting images of their parents. Rhaella looked every bit a Targaryen with her thick, silver-blonde hair and violet eyes. It sometimes gave Jon pause to look at her, his eyes tricking him into seeing a childlike version of his wife. Robb inherited the Stark traits of black hair and grey eyes. Daenerys could only differentiate between Robb and his father when they were standing facing her, otherwise it was like her husband had a twin.

The children had been born at Dragonstone not too long after the end of the Great War. As luck would have it, a brood of dragons were hatched soon after Robb’s seventh nameday. Jon and Daenerys spoke extensively in their bedchambers about the possibility of having their children become dragon riders just like them. Daenerys, ever the Targaryen, argued strongly for her children to bond with the dragons and ride them. Jon, on the other hand, returned that they had no reason to ride the dragons as Westeros was experiencing a period of peace like none before.

Eventually, Daenerys won out; Jon had trouble resisting her when she batted her eyes and showed him just how much fun riding a dragon could be.

Rhaella bonded with the dragon she named Vhagar right away. After all, she lived for her Aunt Arya’s visits that often brought hushed bedtime stories about the warrior Queen Visenya and her dragon. Robb had a little more hesitation when approaching the dragons, however. He finally decided on the name Snowfyre when he learned of his father’s original bastard status.

As the dragons grew bigger and stronger, so did Jon’s apprehension. Daenerys had every confidence that her children would succeed, but Jon knew how volatile dragons could be. He still got a terrified feeling in the pit of his stomach when he rode Rhaegal, and it had been over ten years since his first mount.

The day finally came for Rhaella and Robb to attempt to ride their dragons. Daenerys had been instructing them for weeks on how to ride, and as children they had taken turns riding on Drogon and Rhaegal with their parents. The children had taught their dragons the same Valyrian commands that their mother had taught her dragons before, so Jon knew at the very least that the dragons would listen to his children.

“Remember, it’s probably going to be uncomfortable at first, but the feeling of flying is like none other in the world.” Daenerys smiled at their children as she quickly re-fastened Rhaella’s coat. “Your father and I will be in the air with you the whole time. Shout if you have any problems,” she said with a wry smile, no doubt remembering what she had said to Jon the first time he rode Rhaegal.

Jon mounted his dragon with practiced ease; the awkward positioning of his legs had become second nature at this point. The plan was for Daenerys to fly first and for Jon to bring up the rear so he could keep an eye on them from behind.

He watched his children approach their dragons with confidence, holding their hands out to touch their snouts affectionately. Daenerys smiled encouragingly at them as she mounted Drogon. Rhaella stuck her chin out confidently and slowly made her way to Vhagar’s side. The dragon sat low to the ground as if in preparation for what was about to happen. The breath caught in Jon’s throat as he watched his daughter climb onto Vhagar’s back. Seeing how effortless she made it look reminded him of how fascinated he was when he first saw Dany atop Drogon.

Rhaella was sporting a huge grin by the time she mounted her dragon. Robb, on the other hand, had yet to make a move towards Snowfyre’s wing. He looked back at Jon with furrowed brows and a frown. Jon did what he could to give him an encouraging smile despite the churning feeling in the pit of his stomach. Robb smiled weakly back at him and began to move stiffly towards Snowfyre’s left side.

Jon knew that Robb was under a lot of pressure to be a good dragon rider. He had come up under his older sister who was seemingly never nervous about anything. Jon remembered many late night talks with Robb about his frustration with being bested by his older sister during training, as well as the many reassurances he had given his son that he was doing just fine.

Jon looked on with nerves as his youngest child slowly mounted the dragon. It took him a little longer than Rhaella to find his seat, but eventually he settled in and grabbed on to whatever he could. Jon smiled to himself as he looked onto both of his children.

Without warning, Daenerys shot her family a smile and commanded Drogon forward. They took off over the cliff and below, out of Jon’s sight, before rising up in front of them. Rhaella followed as quickly as she could manage, and the image of her and Vhagar disappearing over the cliff’s edge left him choking back fear. It was only when he saw her soar up towards her mother that the feeling eased. Robb followed his mother and sister carefully, putting on a brave face to mask what was likely pure terror. Slowly, he and Snowfyre dipped below the cliff and soared off into the morning sun. Jon followed quickly after, not wanting to be left behind by his speedy wife.

Daenerys was right; the feeling of flying was the best thing he had ever felt. Every time he mounted the Rhaegal and sped into the sky, he felt as if he were lighter than air. The wind whipped across his face and clothes, but the burning feeling was definitely worth it. There was no place that he would rather be than astride the dragon named for his father as they rose through the sky.

The only feeling that would ever rival this was the absolute pride that he felt at watching his children follow in his and Daenerys’ footsteps.

No doubt because of their Targaryen blood, Rhaella and Robb were complete naturals. Despite his initial apprehension, Jon could see that Robb had a huge smile on his face as Snowfyre flew him over the ocean. Rhaella’s resounding hollers were contagious and he found himself whooping along with her. He could see Daenerys far ahead of him, circling back around to look onto her children with pride. It was later that night that he found out that the usual tears that pooled in her eyes from the wind were caused by something else that day.

Their children were dragons through and through, and there was nothing that could take away how proud Jon and Daenerys were of that fact.

***

Daenerys rarely spent much time in the kitchen, preferring to eat the delicious food prepared by the chef than to watch it be made. However, she did enjoy making lemon cakes when the occasion arose. As soon as they settled into their family home at Dragonstone, Daenerys planted lemon trees in the back garden. It connected her to the one place she felt at home while she was a child and it provided her with plenty of lemons to add to her diet.

It was a warm summer day when she found herself bent over a bowl, mixing furiously. The cook often knew to leave her during her baking time because baking typically meant that the queen wanted to be alone. Of course, she would not mind some company in the form of her handsome husband. He often liked to sneak in while she was baking and lick the bowl.

“You are going to get ill!” she would scold him as he stole the bowl away and ran around the corridor. He often left her rolling her eyes and chuckling with how childish he could be. She expected that this day would be no different.

She was putting the tray in the oven as she heard Jon’s heavy footsteps round the corner. “The bowl is on the table,” she informed him when he entered the room. He flashed her a sheepish grin and rounded the counter to pick it up.

“How do you always manage to know when I am finished?” she asked him.

“Because I know you better than you think,” he replied with a grin.

She scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Jon Snow.”

He smirked at his name, knowing that she only used the full version when she was on defense. He put the bowl down and walked towards her. “Really? Then how do I know that you secretly love it when I call you Dany?”

He was walking around her slowly, but she made no movement, reserving to stare straight ahead. She could hear him chuckle lightly at her stubbornness.

“I know that you miss the free cities of Essos more than you’re willing to admit.” She swallowed the lump in her throat that rose at the mention of Essos. He was right; she missed the warmth and rich culture that was found in the place she grew up. Not that she would ever admit it to him, of course.

“I know that you love it when I touch you,” he said in a low voice. She jumped at the feel of him behind her, his breath on her neck making her feel weak. Her body leaned into him on its own, betraying her mind and its resolution to stay still.

“And I know that you love it when I do this,” he said slowly, and before she knew it she felt his mouth at the little spot behind her ear. He had learned early on that she loved it when he kissed her there, and never shied away from it when they were behind closed doors.

Daenerys let out a small whine at the feeling of his hands around her waist and his mouth behind her ear. She swayed slightly, overcome with feeling, allowing Jon to support her weight. He turned her around in his arms and moved on to her neck, lavishing it with kisses as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

She happened to glance over at the hourglass and saw that the sand had almost run out, signaling that it was time to take the cakes out of the oven. “Jon,” she whispered. “The cakes.”

He hummed in agreement, not looking up from her chest. “Jon,” she pleaded. “Don’t be greedy.”

“You’re my wife, I’m allowed to be greedy,” he replied, and moved to kiss her on the mouth. The feel of his lips against hers sent her into overdrive. She momentarily forgot about the cakes as she leaned into Jon, deepening the kiss.

“Mmm, greed is good,” she said softly as he returned to kissing her neck.

The lemon cakes came out blackened, but Daenerys could not force herself to care.

***

There wasn’t much that Daenerys preferred to riding Drogon. The feeling of flying through the sky, wind whipping her hair around, and her stomach moving to her chest left her feeling euphoric for hours after it ended. She didn’t think that anything would ever compare.

Until she met Jon Snow, that is.

The first night he came to her room, the butterflies that had occupied her chest for the weeks previous exploded and left her feeling breathless. His intense gaze held hers for what felt like hours before he made the move to kiss her. That night, every intimate experience she had ever had was eclipsed by the mere running of his hands over her hips. Every place he touched made her skin feel like it was on fire, which is saying something because she knew what it felt like to be engulfed in flames.

It had been years since that first night, and the passion had definitely not diminished. Now that they shared their bedchambers there wasn’t much stopping them from being together whenever the moment felt right.

The moment often felt right.

It was a crisp morning at Dragonstone that saw the unfortunate necessity of Jon riding Rhaegal to north of the Wall. There had been some dissent amongst the Freefolk that Jon was especially equipped to handle, and they had two young children to take care of, so it was decided that he would ride alone. He also had plans to check in on his siblings at Winterfell, especially since Sansa had given birth to a daughter not long before.

Daenerys was sad to see him go, but that was not the only emotion that she was feeling upon watching him retreat towards the north. Ever since that fated day all those years ago, Daenerys had loved watching Jon ride Rhaegal. It warmed her heart to see her husband mount the dragon named for the brother she never knew and the father he learned of so late in his life.

Most importantly, the sight of him on a dragon filled her with a desperate, needy want that hit her like a gust of wind. The fact that she had to watch Jon ride a dragon coupled with the fact that he would be gone for some time was making her increasingly frustrated.

The walk back into the castle was tense. She had to walk carefully so as to hide how hard her legs were clenching together in her husband’s absence. She spent the rest of the day longing for night when she could retreat to her chambers and take care of her metaphorical itch. When the time finally came, she found herself only somewhat satisfied, missing Jon’s touch more than she thought she could.

The days following drug on and on. Daenerys bided her time by playing with her children and responding to ravens from various kingdoms requesting aid. Every night behind closed doors she would try in vain to dull the ache that had taken up residence between her legs.

It was almost a full moon later when he finally returned. Rhaegal touched down just before the sun disappeared behind the castle. Daenerys could barely contain her excitement as she watched Jon slide down Rheagal’s side. Was it just her or did he look even better than he did when he left?

He walked purposefully towards her with a small smile on his face. She felt like he could tell how needy she was for him, but as soon as he reached her he kissed her on the forehead, grabbed her hand, and begun walking towards the castle.

Daenerys walked along with him and listened as he described his trip. He told her of how Tormund was having trouble negotiating with one of the other clans over some land. They were able to get it figured out, thankfully, and he was able to spend some time with his new niece at Winterfell.

“She’s beautiful, Dany. It reminded me of when Rhaella was born and I didn’t want to leave her side for months,” he gushed.

Daenerys smiled at the memory. “We’ll have to take a family trip up north sometime soon. I think the children would love to meet her.”

Jon smiled at her. They had reached their chambers at this point, the throbbing between Daenerys’ legs had grown stronger with every step. They entered the room and Jon let go of her hand to begin removing his cloak.

“That ride is rough,” he mused as he worked on the buckle of his cloak. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that again for a while.”

Lust was coursing so quickly through Daenerys’ veins at the sight of her husband undressing that she lost all restraint. “Oh really?” she asked coyly. She began unbuttoning her dress slowly, maintaining eye contact with Jon once he looked up from removing his belt. “I thought you might want to ride another dragon tonight.”

He gulped, eyes widening as he took in the meaning of her words. She smirked at him and beckoned him closer.

“Am I going to have to remove this dress all by myself?”

***

The journey to Winterfell was a long one, and Daenerys resented the fact that she could not make short work of it on Drogon’s back. This was a family trip and her children were still too young to make the journey in the air, so she, Jon, Rhaella, and Robb were left to journey on a ship to White Harbor. From there, they rode on horseback to Jon’s family home.

“Mama how much farther?” asked Rhaella, tucked on Daenerys’ horse in front of her.

“About a day’s journey, my child. We are going to stop to rest sometime soon.” They had been riding all day, and Daenerys felt her child’s discomfort. Though she had become used to the soreness that followed horse riding, Rhaella had not spent nearly as much time on horseback as she had.

After the sun began to disappear behind the trees, Jon and Daenerys decided to stop in a little village for the night. Jon tended to the horses while Daenerys took Rhaella and Robb over to the inn to ask for a room for the night. The innkeeper looked a little shocked to see them, but maintained his composure long enough to guide them to their room. Jon joined them soon after, and they ate a small meal before turning in for the night.

The next morning saw the four of them eating downstairs in the dining hall. People would stop at their table to welcome them to town and make small talk with the official Protectors of the Realm. Jon knew how much Daenerys loved to make conversation with the smallfolk. It reminded him of the stories she had whispered to him about her time in Essos.

They spent the rest of the morning walking around the little village. Rhaella and Robb had found some other children and were playing games with them while Jon and Daenerys bartered with some merchants. As Daenerys looked over to the children playing in the square, Jon couldn’t help but notice a note of sadness in her eyes.

“What is it my Queen?” he asked softly.

She met his eyes. “They live such happy lives,” she mused. “Don’t you ever wish we could live in a small village like this?”

“Aye,” he replied. “But I wouldn’t trade our family for anything.”

“I envy them,” Daenerys responded sadly. “They don’t have to worry about things like feeding armies and threats from the South.”

“That’s true, Dany. But they also don’t have to worry about tyrants anymore, thanks to you.”

She smiled at him. “I suppose you’re right.” She remained silent for a long moment. “Do you think it will ever be possible for us? To live like them?”

He smiled. “How about this? Once Rhaella and Robb are grown and married to other houses and serving as protectors in our stead, we can build a nice little house by the sea. Somewhere where we could be close to the children but also close enough to fly to Essos whenever we like. How does that sound?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think that sound like a great idea, Jon Snow.”

***

The feast was over, but Daenerys was starving. She had spent much of the meal trying to coax her babe to sleep and by the time Rhaella was finally down, the great hall had cleared out.

Jon and Daenerys had invited rulers of the Seven Kingdoms to Dragonstone to discuss the governing system of Westeros. It had resulted in a week of long discussions about the rights of smallfolk and the extent to which they had a say in the governance of their nation. The group of lords and ladies had finally agreed upon keeping the great houses as rulers and protectors, but allowing the smallfolk to vote on important issues that affected them.

Eventually, elections would be held to determine who would rule over the individual kingdoms, but Daenerys did not want to move too quickly. Her and Jon would remain Protectors of the Realm, but it was decided that one ruler over all of Westeros was too big of a job. They would instead turn their focus outwards, using their dragons and armies to help free people from persecution in the known world.

The whole event culminated in a feast to celebrate the beginning of a new nation, but Daenerys missed most of it when her daughter’s wet nurse came to fetch her after the first toast. Rhaella often had trouble sleeping, so Daenerys excused herself to help put her daughter to bed.

Two hours later, she made her way slowly into the great hall to find the maids cleaning up an empty room. She thought of walking to the kitchen and asking the cook to prepare her something light, but thought better of it when she realized what time it must be. Tired and hungry, she made her way to her bedchambers to try to get some rest.

When she arrived, she opened the door to find Jon sitting at the table by the fire. Before him was a large spread of food from the feast that included all of her favorite things. She stared at him for a moment before a smile broke out on her face. “Jon! What’s all this?”

“Supper. I figured you would be hungry so I had my steward bring some food for you.”

His nice gesture warmed her heart. He wasn’t the best with words, but it was his actions that told her how much he loved her. “Thank you. Rhaella just would not go to sleep,” she said as she sat down in the chair next to him.

“I’m sorry. Next time that happens, I’ll take her and you can stay with the lords and ladies,” he responded after handing her the flagon of ale.

“Actually, I think I prefer spending time with Rhaella to spending time with them.” He laughed at her admission. “What?” she asked with a smile. “I don’t mean to sound rude but they can be so daft sometimes. Don’t blame me for wanting to get away from all of that.”

“Aye, they are a handful. I thought Edmure would never shut up when Sansa asked him about the ship he arrived in.”

Daenerys laughed at that. “I am not sorry I missed that conversation.”

She ate in silence for a while, laughing as Jon recapped some of the more humorous aspects of the night. By the time she was ready for dessert, she was practically bursting out of her dress. “I’ve eaten so much, and yet I am still hungry!” she laughed.

“Well, you are a glutton for lemon sweets.” Jon replied, chuckling.

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I’m serious! I’ve been so hungry lately and I feel like everything I eat is going to my chest!”

“I’m definitely not complaining,” Jon replied. “It reminds me of when you were pregnant with Rhae.”

Daenerys’ breath caught in her throat as she had a thought. She dropped her fork on her plate and moved her hands to her stomach. “Jon,” she said quietly.

His eyes widened and moved to her stomach. “Dany? Do you think…” he trailed off.

“I’m not sure. I can’t remember my last moonblood.” She closed her eyes and moved her hand over her stomach. Emotions coursed through her as she considered this new reality. Was she ready? So soon after having Rhaella, too. She hoped that she and Jon were ready for this. “I think I might be with child again.”

She said it so softly that he almost didn’t hear. She opened her eyes and looked at him nervously, trying to gauge his reaction. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

He gulped and took a moment before responding. She began to worry that he was unhappy, but he moved quickly from his chair and knelt in front of her, placing his hands over hers. “I think that you are the most beautiful woman in the world. No matter what happens, you are the most amazing mother to Rhaella.” He paused. “However, I would love for our family to grow even more.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she considered his words. She wanted nothing more than to have a large family with multiple children and it seemed as if her husband felt the same. “I love you,” she responded as she leaned down to kiss him.

***

Jon and Daenerys liked to take walks around Dragonstone every once in a while to clear their heads and catch up. The days were often so busy that they didn’t get a chance to see each other and talk. They started indoors, walking through halls of bedchambers, and often stopping to listen outside their children’s doors.

They passed Robb’s door to find him being read to by his wet nurse, snuggled in his bed for an afternoon nap. Jon and Daenerys smiled to each other fondly and Daenerys rested her head on his shoulder.

“He’s a sweet boy,” Daenerys said with a smile.

“Aye. You’ve rubbed off on him,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead.

Robb had recently had his fourth nameday, and preferred to fill it with a trip down to the beach with his family rather than a large celebration. Jon and Daenerys had been thankful that they didn’t have to bother with inviting guests.

Rhaella, on the other hand, loved big celebrations. She was soon to have her sixth nameday, and she had already specified that she wanted her parents to invite “everyone.” When Daenerys tried to clarify what that meant, she just shrugged and said “everyone.”

They were coming up on her room now, as evidenced by the sound of her playing with her dolls. Rhaella loved her dolls. They were a specially made gift that Jon had made for her about a year ago. There was a young girl with silver hair and violet eyes as well as a large green dragon to match Vhagar.

“My name is Rhaella Targaryen, second of my name, and I command you to bend the knee or feel my wrath!”

Daenerys shot Jon a worried look that he returned. They turned towards their daughter’s door and Daenerys knocked softly before opening it.

“Rhae?” she asked. “Can we come in?”

“Hi mama, papa. I’m playing dragons!” the child said cheerfully.

“I see that,” replied Daenerys. She sat down next to her daughter while Jon stayed posted by the door. “Can you tell me what that means? Feel your wrath?”

“You know, mama. They’re gonna be in trouble if they don’t follow me.”

Daenerys hummed. She was familiar with the type of speech that her daughter was now emulating; she had made a few herself. The difference was that Daenerys had worked hard since then to establish a peaceful nation that wasn’t ruled through fear, and she worried that her children and those who came after would not honor her creation.

“You know, Rhaella, it’s important for our family to protect those who need it. Many are taken from their homes and forced to do things against their will, which is why we use our dragons to free them and give them the ability to choose. But in order to be a good ruler, you also have to be gentle and kind. Do you understand?”

“I think so. So they shouldn’t feel my wrath?”

Daenerys smiled. “It is important to be strong when someone is committing a crime. You have to answer injustice with justice. But for now, when you play with your dolls, why don’t you try to be more gentle?”

“Okay, mama. I’ll try.”

“Who taught you that word, anyway?” asked Jon from the door.

“It was in one of the books Aunt Arya brought me! She read it to me one night before bed,” Rhaella replied with a smile.

“You’re going to have to have a talk with your sister,” Daenerys told Jon as they left the room to continue their walk.

“You don’t want our daughter to know of her ancestors?” Jon asked.

“Of course I do. I just don’t want her to be exposed to the wrong ancestors.”

“I see your point. I’ll send a raven when we return,” Jon replied easily.

***

The sun shone through the window, waking Jon from slumber. He could tell it was midmorning by its position and the shadow it cast over the room. Daenerys slept soundly next to him, no doubt exhausted from the previous weeks.

Their final battle for King’s Landing had taken a lot out of her. That, coupled with the weeks of rebuilding and reparations that had taken place, had Jon in awe of her tenacity. It was no wonder that she dropped to their bed at night and was asleep without so much as a “goodnight.”

She was honestly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He thought he was in love once, but being with Daenerys had shown him what actual love was. She showed it to him in the way that she truly loved her people and wanted to do right by them. She showed it in the way she loved her dragons as children. She showed it to him in the way that she loved him, unselfishly and unconditionally. He didn’t think that a ruler as kind and strong had ever lived.

He was perfectly content to watch her sleep. Her mouth opened slightly when she slept and her face was full of the creases that normally appeared when she was awake. Her hair flowed wildly about the pillows after being freed from her intricate braids. This was one of his favorite ways to look at her, and was all too often interrupted by her stirring slowly.

She moved slowly and opened her eyes, shielding them from the light coming in through the window. “I’ll never get used to that,” she mused.

It was true; King’s Landing was very different from where they had both grown up. They had opted to stay there for a few months while they were getting the Seven Kingdoms back on their feet. Daenerys wanted to be as close to the discussions as possible, which left her missing her family’s ancestral home more and more each day.

“Good morning,” Jon said softly.

She smiled up at him and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Good morning.” She moved to get out of bed, but Jon could tell it was difficult for her. He grabbed her hand quickly and tried to pull her towards him.

“Dany, you’re exhausted. It’s been weeks of non-stop talking and riding and you need a break.”

“Jon, they need me. There’s still so much to do and I can’t leave Tyrion alone with them because he-”

“Dany.” he cut her off mid-sentence. He began to pull her arm slowly until she fell down onto the bed next to him. “I think,” he said, kissing her cheek. “They can handle one day without you.” He began peppering small kisses around her face. Her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, and finally her mouth. He felt her smile slightly and give in to his touch.

“Perhaps everyone could do with a day off,” she conceded. “But what will we do instead?”

“I can think of some ideas,” he said devilishly as he began to kiss down her throat. He felt her breath catch underneath him as she lifted her chin to give him more access.

“Hmm? And what would those be?” Her eyes were half-closed at this point, hands coming up Jon’s back to rest in his hair.

“I think I’m making it pretty obvious,” he replied, chuckling.

She could feel him pressed against her, which sent a jolt down to her core. “And after?”

“He moved up to kiss behind her ear. “I don’t plan on letting you out of this bed at all today,” he whispered against her skin.

“Jon, we can’t stay in bed all day. What do you take me for, a sloth?”

He pulled back from her neck and screwed his face in confusion. “A what?”

“A sloth. They are extremely slow and lazy animals. I read about them once in a book that my brother gave me.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of sloths, but today, that’s exactly what we are.” At that moment, his arms came around her behind and he scooped her up so she was sitting on his lap. She giggled as he moved them to a new position, resolving to make an exception for today.

And possibly, many more days in the future.

#Jonerys #Jonerys fanfiction #JonerysWeek2019 #JonerysWeek #iceandfiresource #Jon x Daenerys #Jon x Daenerys fanfiction

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constellationclarke · 5 years

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The funniest thing is that since Drogon took Dany's body, like, almost immediately, Jon could have just... Not told anyone he killed her ? He coulda been like "yeah guys idk she just decided she was gonna take a vacation and hopped on drogon and flew away... Oh that puddle of blood? Uhh that was already there lol"

#game of thrones spoilers #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #drogon #game of thrones #but seriously how fuckin funny would that have been

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totentanz · 5 years

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And Will He Not Come Again?

For Jonerys Week “The North and the South.”

Rhaegal left just after dawn.

Daenerys was already awake. She had never been one to laze in bed when there was work to be done, and there was always work to be done - petitions to hear, disputes to settle, rebuilding efforts to oversee. But even on the rare days when she could afford a bit of idleness, she never slept much later than the sunrise. Two years after she and Drogon had flown over the smoking wreckage of King’s Landing to the Red Keep and found Jaime Lannister kneeling over the body of his sister, bloody sword in hand, visions of green fire and the screams of children still stalked her dreams. Their cries of anguish - myhsa, mother, why didn’t you come sooner? Why didn’t you save us from her? - dragged into her wakefulness, her cheeks wet with tears and her heart pounding so hard it was difficult to breathe.

Jon could keep the nightmares at bay, when he was with her. But while the blood of the dragon ran through her husband’s veins, he was still a creature of ice and snow. He’d died and been resurrected in the far North, in the shadow of the ancient magic that had raised the Wall, and the North still claimed him as its child. Too long away from it and he began to fade away, going still and quiet, his eyes turned toward something only he could see. It had terrified her at first, when she touched his hand and he didn’t turn to look at her with that smile she so loved, the one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and her heart flutter. She called his name and hadn’t so much as twitched, and the image of Drogo, lost to fever and unable to respond to her pleas for him to just live a little longer, my sun and stars, please don’t leave me here flitted through her mind and stole her breath, left her cold as stone.

But Rhaegal had known what to do. Rhaegal had swept down and bathed Jon in warm, sulfur-scented breath, given him the strength to climb on to the dragon’s back and follow the summons of the North’s ancient gods away from the south, away from Daenerys. She might have wept, if Drogon hadn’t nudged her with his immense head and crooned softly, the sound rumbling through her body. Do not despair, the dragon seemed to say. All will be well.

She ran her hand over the empty sheets next to her, allowed herself one more moment to wish she were touching Jon’s sleep-warmed skin, then swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. There was no use in trying to sleep longer. Better to go outside and let the stiff ocean breezes clear her head.

Most of the sky was still dark, but the eastern horizon was touched with streaks of rose and orange. She walked past the slumbering heap of dragon wings and tails to the cliff’s edge, and stared out over the sea. The ceaseless pounding of the waves against the stone resonated deep in her bones, as familiar to her as her own heartbeat. She had been born on this island, drawn her first breaths here, and some primal part of her had never forgotten that. She felt grounded here, on this rocky soil, in a way she never was in Essos. She knew it was expected that she’d return the monarch’s seat to King’s Landing once the Red Keep was habitable once more, but the thought of doing so brought her no pleasure. That place was full of ghosts. She’d rather stay here, in the place of her birth, where Rhaegal and Drogon could fly freely over the ocean.

The sky grew brighter, and the curve of the sun appeared and limned the waves with gold. Sunlight raced across the waves, up the rocky cliffs, and across the windswept grass until it illuminated the dragons’ scales. Rhaegal lifted his head and shook his wings free, ignoring Drogon’s rumble of irritation, then walked to the precipice. He paused for a moment, his tongue flicking out to taste the air, then sprang aloft, his powerful wings catching the air and bearing him northward.

She shaded her eyes and watched his flight. She wasn’t sure how exactly Rhaegal knew when it was time to leave, whether it was some distant summons from Jon, far away in the lands north of North, or her own yearning to hold her husband in her arms, or if the dragon himself simply missed his rider. She liked to believe that Jon summoned Rhaegal to him, that he ached for her as much as she ached for him and wanted to return; it also brought her comfort to think that if Jon were ever in dire need, the dragon would know and rush to her husband’s aid.

“Bring him back to me,” she called, the sea breeze catching her words and bearing them aloft. She watched Rhaegal until he was nothing more than a speck in the brilliant blue sky, then turned and made her way back toward the keep, her heart lighter than it had been when she first woke up.

It wouldn’t be long now, not long at all before Jon was in her arms once more.

* * *

Until the Red Keep could be sufficiently restored, Daenerys chose to hold court in the ruins of the Dragonpit. Even though the Iron Throne itself had proved too cumbersome to move, the pit was large enough for Drogon to crouch behind her seat and fix his burning eyes on all who approached, and his presence a more potent symbol of queenship than any chair could hope to be.

It also meant she could arrive and depart on dragonback, a piece of pageantry that brought her no small measure of delight. She savored her daily flights from Dragonstone, when she soared high above the sparkling waters of Blackwater Bay with the wind whipping through her hair. On dragonback she felt most like herself, young and free with all the world before her, and Drogon’s answering exultation spilled into her own mind until the two of them were almost one. She’d heard that Daena the Defiant once that said she was born to ride a dragon; it was a sentiment Daenerys Breaker of Chains understood.

Seven days after Rhaegal journeyed north, she and Drogon flew out of the Dragonpit into the kind of evening that made her want to fly forever. The air was just cool enough to be pleasant, the western sky was painted in vivid shades of orange and red, and Drogon’s body was warm and strong beneath her legs. The day had gone well - the new vines planted in the Arbor were flourishing, the restoration of the Sept of Baelor was almost complete, and a fleet of trade ships from Meereen had arrived, their holds full of spices and silk. Her realm was at peace, recovering from the years of constant warfare, and she had everything she’d dreamed of as a lonely girl wandering through the Red Waste with nothing but a ragged khalasar and three newly hatched dragons barely the size of cats, everything except -

Off in the distance, a dragon roared.

Drogon’s answer split the skies, and Daenerys’ heart leaped in her chest as she spotted Rhaegal up ahead. She tightened her hold on Drogon’s spines and leaned forward, urging her mount to fly faster.

“Onward,” she whispered. “Let’s catch them.”

They met just south of Dragonstone. Drogon and Rhaegal circled around each other in greeting, drawing so close that Daenerys could see Jon’s smile in the twilight. She smiled in return, and the joy bubbling through her veins made her feel like she didn’t need a dragon’s wings to fly.

The dragons danced, and the sky faded to a deep blue speckled with silver stars. Daenerys caught a glimpse of Jon’s expression, equal parts of delighted and mischievous as he urged Rhaegal to fly higher, and she sent Drogon after him. The two dragons soaring so high that Dragonstone’s mighty Keep seemed no larger than a child’s toy; and then, just as her lungs started to burn in protest of the thin air, they plummeted downward, speeding faster than arrows shot from the great weirwood bows used by Northern archers.

Daenerys gasped in delight, and the sound was immediately snatched away by the rush of wind. She felt no fear, even as the dark waters of the bay rushed closer and closer. She had complete faith in her mount, and when the dragons pulled up at the last second and raced across the water, their wings barely skimming over the waves, she threw her head back and howled her exhilaration to the skies.

“Again,” she cried, and Drogon and Rhaegal sped skyward. “Again!”

By the time they turned toward Dragonstone, Daenerys was out of breath, her hair was tangled from the wind, and the blood burned hot in her veins. She felt gloriously, intoxicatingly alive. Drogon had scarcely touched the ground before she slid from his back and raced toward her husband, eager to touch him, kiss him, exult in feeling him beneath her hands once more.

Jon waited for her with outstretched arms, the smile she loved stretching across his face, dark eyes sparkling with warmth. She threw herself into his embrace, and their lips met in a kiss. He tasted of the North, of ice and snow and the sharp scent of pine, but when she caressed the nape of his neck, the skin was warm.

When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against her and closed his eyes. “Dany,” he murmured, and brushed his fingers gently against her cheeks. “Dany.”

And let the North have him for six moon turns in the year, if it kept Jon from fading away entirely. Let the cold mountains winds have their time with him, if that was what it took to restore his spirit and prevent him from falling back into that endless slumber. Because he might be ice, but he was also fire, and her fire called to him as surely as the Northern snow did.

“I’m here, my love,” she whispered in reply, and their lips met once, twice, three times. “I have you.”

(Yes, the idea here is that Dany and Jon have a Hades/Persephone vibe going on, where Jon needs to return to the North for a certain amount of time each year to keep his resurrection juice going. Yes, that sidelines R'hllor. No, I do not care.)

#jonerys #jonerysweek2019 #jon x daenerys #jon x dany

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rocinawanda · 5 years

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the end of an era

game of thrones finale. spoilers of course

I loved the finale. I cried multiple times. The first half of the episode moved a little slowly but after Dany died it picked up and got to where I thought it would be.

I feel like this post needs to be really long to convey all my emotions regarding this show like how hearing the theme song at the end continued to bring me to tears. So i’ll just go character to character to make this easier.

Daenerys. I still love her. I loved her all the way through the series and that hasn’t changed. She needed to die and I was not surprised that it happened I started suspecting it two years ago. Because I saw it coming I didn’t feel much sadness when Jon initally killed her but when Drogon came up and started nudging her with its nose I started bawling. I’m still hurt I felt Drogon’s grief and him burning the iron throne was amazing and so poetic agh I cannot. I am so glad they didn’t kill him because I was wondering before the episode what would happen to him after she died. My theory was that they would “set him free” and I guess it pretty much came true he took her body and flew off east. Probably towards Valyria or something I don’t know but I’m glad he’s alive and away from Westeros.

Jon. I’m sad. I kept saying “it’s not fair!” but it is. Sending him to the wall, bringing it full circle. I’m sad for him that he’ll never marry or have children and ffs he gave his life for the nights watch once just to end up there again its bittersweet justice. However, seeing him reunite with Ghost I SQUEALED AND HIT EVERYTHING HE GOT HIS GOOD BOY PATS and riding off with Tormund and the Free Folk almost felt right for Jon like there was no other ending that would suffice. Like they could’ve made him king simply because he was the heir but this felt right for the end.

Sansa. or should i say QUEEN SANSA QUEEN IN THE NORTH LADY OF WINTERFELL OMG. I’m still yelling. I was wondering why she was hesistent to Aye Bran becoming king but yes I remembered she wants the north to be independent and I can agree with that. and HOLY FUCK IT FELT SO GOOD. DID YOU SEE HER MY QUEEN. Whenever I think about it I start yelling. She got the ending she deserved. She has been shown to be the best ruler the North could have like lets be serious. I’m so happy for her. Its also very funny like a Stark is King of the Six Kingdoms and the last kingdom is also ruled by a Stark aka HOUSE STARK FTW.

Arya. When she started the “what’s west of Westeros” line I started sobbing I knew instantly that she was going to go find it. I can see that is where she would want her life to be. Because honestly, I didn’t know what Arya would want to be I couldn’t come up with any theory because I had no idea, I know she didn’t want to be a lady, I was sure she didn’t want to be a killer/assassin anymore. But an explorer? I can fuck with that. Sad about Gendry I was hoping the shots around the boat would show him beside her but that would be pure fanservice he is Lord of Storms End now and I need to accept it lol.

Bran. All hail the king. UNEXPECTED. He was probably the last person I would expect to become king but damn they made it make sense. He will be a good king. I don’t know if he can be helpful strategically but hey the last king after a war was Robert Baratheon and he was only good at war and was a terrible king so I think Westeros could benefit from one that is very smart, wise and can recall all of the mistakes their ancestors have made in little time. Also his comment at the end that he may be able to find Drogon made me think he was gonna try to Warg him but like from how far away lol. Also when Tyrion said ‘Bran the Broken’ I did start crying because idk I felt it, like damn he really is the king and that is his title.

Tyrion. GLAD he didn’t die. Being hand of the king is his position lol that last small council scene was brilliant although I am still surprised they actually gave Lord of Highgarden to Bronn the whole scene was hilarious. Gold. But damn Tyrion, he’s been hand of the king twice now and hand of the queen. Also Glad Davos is a lord now and on the small council he deserves it.

Grey worm. I was worried what he would do in the end but I’m glad he accepted it and him and the unsullied are going to Naath.

Game of Thrones. I have loved this show. I have watched since season 4 aired so around 5 years now. I will miss this show so much. My blog name is literally thronesense for game of thrones and sense8, two shows which have now ended. I don’t know if i’ll eventually end up changing it, probably. Nevertheless, I have loved watching the world of this show grow and the characters grow with it. So many twists and turns that I have enjoyed SO MUCH. I will allow it to live on for me through me rewatching it over the years and the fanfiction i’m sure people are already writing lol.

Altogether I can say that my favourite seasons of game of thrones in order from my most to least favourite go S4, S3, S6, S8, S1, S7, S5, S2. I can say this now after rewatching and seeing all of season 8. Each season had parts I enjoyed and parts I didn’t it was just that some like season two had more parts that I didn’t find interesting than ones I did. Altogether they make up an incredible tv show that I won’t ever forget.

#my name is thronesense #thrones comes from this show #and i will miss it so much #got spoilers #house stark #game of thrones #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #sansa stark #bran stark #arya stark #got #and now my watch has ended #until i binge the whole season and show again #tyrion lannister

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darthgrizzyyyy · 5 years

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The Iron Throne pt. 1

"I dont want it. I don't. She is my queen."

Jon muttered to himself as he walked away from Tyrion. His thoughts dissipated for a moment as he walked past Drogon, failing to take into account the ginormous, fire breathing beast covered in ash lying next to the entrance to the throne room.

"What could a Dragon do if it were my enemy? My life is meaningless. Ive died once already. But what if Danaerys turns on my sisters? On my Brother?" These new troubles crossed his mind as the Dragon departed from its slumber, ash falling from its wings.

He walked in to behold Danaerys, standing before the Iron Throne which was seemingly left untouched, given the wreckage that was once an elegant Throne room fit for a King..or Queen.

"When i was a girl, my brother told me it forged from all of the swords of Aegons enemies. What do a thousand swords look like to a little girl who can't count to 20? I imagined a mountain of swords, too high to climb. So many enemies who only saw the soles of Aegons feet." Said the Dragon Queen proudly.

"I saw them executing Lannister prisoners in the street. They said they were acting on your orders." Jon snapped, furiously.

Danaerys paused for a moment, her bright smiley face morphing into one of a scolded child beginning to explain why she was in the right.

"It was..necessary." she remarked.

"Necessary!? Have you been down there? Women..children..innocent people burned! What part of that is necessary to you?"

Jons words were heated, they attacked Daenerys' defense with the very fire she burned the city with moments before, although the end of his sentence simmered as if remembering this woman was someone he still cared for.

"Cersei. Cersei used their innocence against me. Her only weapon and she failed." She continued, glaring at Jon as if he was somehow being unreasonable. "I tried to reason with her..she was my enemy. Now she is dead." Her cold, emotionless expression pierced the King in the North.

"Aye. Cersei was your enemy. She did terrible things and Westeros rose up against her and she paid for those things..with her life. But what about everyone else!?" He took a step forward, clutching the pommel of his sword. Danaerys' eye caught this slight act of hostility, but did not engage it just yet. She turned her back to Jon.

"Dany." He said softly. Then again, after a moment of no response, slightly louder. "Dany!" He walked over to her, his threatening demeanour challenging her calm one. He grabbed her arm, turning her body so she would face him. "You once said that you weren't here to be Queen of the ashes. You spoke with Lord Tyrion about breaking the wheel. You said..that you weren't your Father. Yet here we stand" Jon stepped back, arms wide opened and took a round glance around the ruined throne room. "Ashes. As far as the eye see!"

"You bent the knee. You agreed to help me take down Cersei, you agreed to ride South with your armies and take Kings Landing. For me. Your Queen." Her piercing eyes fixed on Jon. He could tell that she meant it as a personal attack from her insulting tone of voice.

Jon laughed a cynical laugh, almost disheartened by the comment.

"I love you. I will always love you and you will always be my Queen. But i didn't agree to the Murder of innocents. I bent the knee because i believed in you."

She sniggered at his defence. In the distance, a small whirlwind of ash whisked behind Danaerys as Drogon flew by behind the throne room, the beat of his winds like distant thunder claps. The two glanced at her child until he was out of view. For Danaerys, it was a subtle reminder of bittersweet victory as he was all that was left of her old life. For Jon, he was a reminder of Lord Tyrions final words to him. About the threat to the realm and to his family in the north.

The two faced other again consecutively, with Jon taking a deep breath and increasing his posture, ready for the Dragon Queens next breath of fire. He clutched the Pommel of Longclaw again, this time prompting Danaerys' attention.

"I was always just that. Just your Queen. Never anything else." She scorned, her quiet fury leaving little room for well deserved tears.

"Dany. I loved you..i really did. But how can i love you? You're Brother was my Father. You're my Aunt!" His raspy voice uttered.

"Your Father..a man you never knew? Tell me, when you're asked..who do you say is your Father? Rhaegar or Eddard Stark? Sansa, Arya and Bran are your cousins, yet you call them your sisters and your Brother. You model yourself in the image of Ned Stark who most say was the most honourable man in the Seven Kingdoms. Your armor bares the Direwolf sigil of House Stark. The Pommel of your sword that you keep clutching has a Wolf on it." She said with a rainbow of Emotions.

Jon didn't know where to look, Danaerys had disarmed him.

Jon snivvled, succumbing to light tears. "For years ive wanted to know who my Mother was, it was the last thing i asked my Father before i went off to the Wall and he went off to his death. And when i finally found out, it tore me apart. It tore us apart and if we let it, it will continue to tear the rest of the seven kingdoms apart. People have died, because of who i am. People died because they thought i was the rightful choice to sit on that Throne. Aye i may have been born Aegon Targaryen, but i was raised as Jon Snow. I grew up..in the North. As a Northman. Im sorry Dany i really am. But i just can't love you, not in the way that you want me to. Not in the way i did. Its just not in me to do that."

Danaerys felt a lump beginning to form in her throat. All of that Targaryen fury, those old words of 'Fire and Blood' would not be enough to fight off her breaking heart. She was offended. Aggravated. Even annoyed that she was visibly heartbroken.

"As i said. I have no Love on this continent. Fear is the only way i will rule. And rule i WILL. Anyone who stands in my way is my enemy. Are you my enemy, Jon Snow?"

She furiously cast her eyes as Jons grip on Longclaw had tightened and he had subconciously adopted an offensive stance as if ready to draw.

"Forgive Tyrion. Stop this where it is and become the Queen you swore you were. No one else has to die, we can build a better world, Dany." He pleaded with her, though not changing his stance.

"I will build a better world. I will free the world of all the Tyrants who threaten its peace. I will eliminate my enemies as i have always swore to do. Tyrion conspired with my enemies, he commited Treason and freed an enemy. Now you stand with him it seems. Do not become my enemy." She warned.

Jon wipes the tears from his misty eyes and draws Longclaw from his sheath.

"Im sorry that its come to this. But i can't let you murder anyone else." He remorsefully explained as he prepapred to carve her down.

She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Angrily, she sentenced her former love to die.

"Very well. Jon Snow. I, Danaerys Stormborn of the house Targaryen, first of my name, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, protector of the realm sentence you to die."

A short burst of silence fell over the room as neither one of them made a move, not even an inch. In a no more than a moments notice, the distant roar of Drogon reverberated the columns of the Throne Rook and the beat of his thunderous wings getting closer..and closer.

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edxnwood · 5 years

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3. DRACARYS

LISTEN TO THIS AS YOU READ: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msOfnA-_BQY

( a few days later, astapor )

THE GATES OPEN TO LET Dany and her entourage in, the Targaryen wearing the same blue dress as before, but a cape was added on, its hood falling down her back while the right shoulder was thrown over her joint. Missandei wore a similar thing, but in white with blue accents. Jorah and Barristan were behind them, with some Dothraki carrying a cage that held Drogon. The translator seemed to have grown in confidence since Dany released her from Kraznys, holding her head up as high as her Queen held hers, all of them walking through the crowd that led towards Kraznys. "The master says they are untested," Missandei translates. The master. She no longer calls him Master Kraznys, as he was no longer her master. She now had a Queen who barely knew her but treated her with as much respect as a highborn lady.

"He says you would be wise to blood them early," she continues. "There are many small cities between here and there, cities ripe for sacking. Should you take captives, the masters would buy the healthy ones and for a good price. And who knows? In ten years, some of the boys you send may be Unsullied in their turn. As all shall prosper." Dany keeps to herself, her chin raised in understanding before turning her back to walk towards the cage that sat at the bottom of the ramp. As she unties the leather straps from the top from the door, people crane their necks to view what's inside, gasps being heard all around.

She finally gets them undone and slowly opens the cage, Drogon's head peeking out from it, letting out a screech as he looks around at the crowd. He unfurls his wings from his body, letting out another cry, and lifts himself off, his wings beating down, wind moving Dany's cape. She begins walking towards Kraznys, the master smirking at the sight before him.

His eyes come down for a bit, eyeing the baton in Dany's hand, then snatches it, feeling the sheer strength the dragon had in his wings. He hands over the whip, a gold harpy on top of it, and Daenerys look down on it with hatred, feeling unclean as she took it in her hands. "Is it done then?" She asks. "They belong to me?"

"He says it's done. You hold the whip." Kraznys adds something that Missandei does not translate in fear of getting in trouble with Daenerys. Her eyes come up from the whip to Kraznys, understanding all that he said, and turns away from him and her beloved Drogon, who cries out in fear and longing as his mother walks away from him, ignoring his pleas. Jorah watches her in curiosity; Daenerys has never been one to ignore her dragons. "Dovaogēdys!" (Unsullied!) They all put up their shields in unison, a large clang in the crowd. "Naejot memēbātās!" (Forward march!)

They all began marching forward in unison again like they all haunted the same body. "Kelītīs!" (Halt!) They stop.

Kraznys tells Missandei to tell her her beast won't come, but before Missandei could say anything, Daenerys turns around, "Zaldrīzes buzdari iskos daor." (A dragon is not a slave.) Everyone is shocked, Kraznys asking her if she speaks Valyrian. "Nyke Daenery Jelmāzmo hen Targārien lentrot, hen Valyria Uēpo ānogār iksan. Valyria muños ēngos ñuhys issa," she fumes, beyond angry at the number of slaves this man had, turning towards her new army. "Dovaogēdys! Āeksia ossēnātās, menti ossēnātās, qilōni pilos lue vale tolvie ossēnātās, yn riñe dōre ōdrikātās. Urnet luo buzdaro tolvio belma pryjātās!" (I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue. Unsullied! Slay the masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip, but harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!)

A man steps out of formation, raising his spear and impaling it through the heart of one of the masters, the man grabbing onto the wooden pole. Kraznys begins to yell for his men to kill Daenerys, but the Targaryen turns around, letting out the one command that could burn cities to the ground. "Dracarys." Drogon stops struggling against his chain, locking eyes with the master that held him, and with a deep breath, let out a large flame. The master begins screaming, letting go of the dragon's baton, Drogon flying him above the walls surrounding Astapor.

The Unsullied get their spears into a ready position, already siding with Daenerys after seeing her able to command such a mighty creature. As Dany watches everything, Drogon burns the flags stationed behind her, up on the walls of Astapor.

( some time later, astapor )

Jorah walked through the ashes and smoke, Kraznys' burned body on the ground next to his feet, Daenerys's body slightly illuminated by the sun high in the sky beside her. Without a word, she walks off.

( courtyard, astapor )

She walks through the Unsullied, eyeing them with wide eyes, before catching sight of her white mare, his reins in the hand of one of her new soldiers. She steps up to him, taking the reins in her hand and using the foot supports of the saddle to lift herself up on the horse's back, her head still turning to look at the Unsullied. She opens her mouth to speak into the void of silence. "Jevo glaesoti rȳ buzdari istiat. Kesy tubi jemot dāervi tepan. Henujagon jaelza lua vala mirre henujagon kostas, se daorys ziry ōdrikilza. Jemot kivio ñuhe tepan. Yne sytivīlībilāt? Hae dāero valoti?" (You have been slaves all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. I give you my word. Will you fight for me? As free men?)

All is quiet.

One man begins to pound the end of his spear into the ground, echoing all around the courtyard for all to hear. Others join him to create one uniform sound, until everyone was doing it, a silent cry of solace, a wordless cry of loyalty.

( outside astapor's gates )

Daenerys leads the Unsullied, Barristan, Jorah, and Missandei riding behind her, the soldiers walking towards the next city. Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal flew above them, night beginning to fall upon the thousands upon thousands of men. Daenerys looks at the gold harpy topped whip in her hand with disgust and hatred before throwing it onto the ground, sand flying around it as it touched the ground.

The soldiers behind her stepped on it in defiance, pounding it deeper into the dirt. They were now free and able to make their own choices without punishment, and their first choice was to follow Daenerys Targaryen.

#daenerys targaryen #Daenerys #daenerys stormborn #loki x daenerys #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)

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zcldrizes-a · 5 years

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meta: Dany's bond & relationship with Drogon

i.Yet that night she dreamt ofone. Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy withfear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. Hestruck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You wokethe dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You wokethe dragon, you woke the dragon.” Her thighs were slick with blood. She closedher eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound andthe crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone,great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them wasthe dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes foundhers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen ofsweat. She had never been so afraid.

ii.Yet when she slept thatnight, she dreamt the dragon dream again. Viserys was not in itthis time. There was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black asnight, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed. Its eyes were pools ofmolten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hotjet. She could hear it singing to her. She opened her arms tothe fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temperher and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blackenand slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there wasno pain. She felt strong and new and fierce.

iii.Dany gave the silver over to the slavesfor grooming and entered her tent. It was cool and dim beneath the silk. As shelet the door flap close behind her, Dany saw a finger of dusty red light reachout to touch her dragon’s eggs across the tent. For an instant a thousanddroplets of scarlet flame swam before her eyes. She blinked, and they weregone.

iv.Stone, she told herself. They are onlystone, even Illyrio said so, the dragons are all dead. She put her palm againstthe black egg, fingers spread gently across the curve of the shell. The stonewas warm. Almost hot. “The sun,” Dany whispered. “The sun warmedthem as they rode.”

v.“Khaleesi, “ Jhiqui said, “what is wrong?Are you sick?” “I was,” she answered, standing over the dragon’s eggs thatIllyrio had given her when she wed. She touched one, the largest of the three,running her hand lightly over the shelf. Black-and- scarlet, she thought, likethe dragon in my dream. The stone felt strangely warm beneath her fingers… orwas she still dreaming? She pulled her hand back nervously.

Ithink the first thing to note here is that, from very early on, we have itestablished to us that Daenerys is something unique. Not everyone bonded todragons dreams of them – though we know that Aemon did ( I see them in my dreams, Sam. I see a red star bleeding in the sky. Istill remember red. I see their shadows on the snow, hear the crack of leathernwings, feel their hot breath. My brothers dreamed of dragons too, and theirdreams killed them, every one. ) but as the readers, we get no realindication that Viserys did. And given he’s presented to be the actual dragonat first, though we learn quickly that is not the case, I think the messagehere that we take from this is simple: Daenerys was always fated to be themother of dragons, and Daenerys was always fated to be the first rider in centuries.

Firstly,I want to quickly clear something up: despite what the show neglected to portray,Daenerys loves all three of her children in equal form, even if in differentways. I won’t link all of the proof of that here – that can happen in anothermeta if someone really wants it – but I think the thing to note is that eventhough all three are her children, one of them is necessarily more equal to herin her own state of mind in the sense of him being her mount. She loves herchildren and wants to protect them, yes: but to protect them, she would needDrogon’s help, realistically. That means in her own mind, she will always viewhim as an equal, and someone she fights alongside, whilst Viserion and Rhaegal can’tbe viewed in the same lense because she isn’t bonded to them in the waydragonlore states ( quickly on dragonlore: I mix my own canon for writing it,as most people know, from a concoction of asoiaf canon, Eragon, HTTYD, etc ).She can attempt to protect them: but Drogon protects her. Drogon is her equal,in that sense. It doesn’t mean she loves him more, it means she loves him differently.I’m happy to extend my thoughts on her actions in locking Viserion andRhaegal up, but in my own state of mind, and I think established relativelydecently in some forms of canon, Daenerys doesregret what she had to do. With that in mind, it’s something she would havedone to all three if she had a chance, for the sake of the people she was ruling.

Secondly,before I go into specifics about her bond with Drogon, a general note about thedragons bonding: I do prescribe to the very established canon that only thosewith Valyrian blood have the ability to ride dragons. We know from Martin’scanon that Valyrian Dragonlords used magic to bind the dragons to them – and thatcan explain the many references to the blood of the dragon, specifically. That’sto suggest that the blood carried on from Valyrian descendants still containsthat bond, however diluted through the ages. There are of course someexceptions to this, and those usually come from extenuating circumstances: butwith Dany’s dragons, we see in canon that they are resistant to just anyone riding them. Quentyn Martell’sdeath after trying to mount Viserion – admittedly at the hands of Rhaegal –confirms that they don’t tolerate just anyone, and it’s also important to notethat Daenerys was the first dragonriderin a century and a half. The exception I make for my own canon is @killthebxy and his Jon riding Rhaegal, and the explanation for this is simple: after months of bonding, and under the canonwhere no other Valyrian blooded people exist, and also in a context whereViserion is dead and Drogon has a rideralready, it makes sense that Rhaegal would crave a rider so badly that hewould bond with another. With that being said, we also know from canon that a dragononce bonded will not allow anyone else to ride them ( unless their rider isalso present ). That means no, your musecannot ride Drogon without Daenerys there. He doesn’t want it, and she wouldn’t allow it, so don’t try it.

…itwas said that even Aegon the Conquerer never dared mount Vhagar or Meraxes, nordid his sisters mount Balerion the Black Dread. Dragons live longer than men,some for hundreds of years, so Balerion had other riders after Aegon died…but no rider ever flew two dragons.

Now,I’m going to break this up into a few different sections to write.

- oo1. BOND FORMATION.

Theimportant thing to note here is that Ipersonally think the bond began long before Daenerys actually rode Drogon.We see within canon in her dreaming days that when dreaming of the dragons, Danyalways dreams of the black. It’s nocoincidence that Drogon was born to bear her House colours, nor is it coincidencethat he is often called Balerion ( Khaleesi… there sits Balerion, come again. ) whilst she herself is paralleled toAegon the Conqueror ( She is the widow ofa Dothraki khal, a mother of dragons and sacker of cities, Aegon the Conquerorwith teats. ) – this sets up in a very visceral manner that this is whatMartin’s intention was, to establish this bond very early on. We know that inhatching the dragons, Daenerys had known for an incredibly long time what shewas going to do to hatch those dragons, and we can see that in the followingfew passages, that she references her intent and the pre-emptive nature of whatshe’s about to do, before it’s DROGON’S egg that she lifts first. ( This is madness, she told herself as shelifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn,and it’s so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, andyet… Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushedit down amongst the burning coals. The black scales seemed to glow as theydrank the heat. Flames licked against the stone with small red tongues. Danyplaced the other two eggs beside the black one in the fire. ) Between thedreams and the following few pieces of evidence, we know her intent wasestablished early on.

i.“You will not hear me scream,” Mirri responded as the oil dripped from her hairand soaked her clothing. “I will,” Dany said, “but it is not your screams Iwant, only your life. I remember what you told me. Only death can pay for life.” Mirri Maz Duur opened her mouth, butmade no reply. As she stepped away, Dany saw that the contempt was gone fromthe maegi’s flat black eyes; in its place was something that might have beenfear. Then there was nothing to be donebut watch the sun and look for the first star.

ii.Jhogo spied it first. “There, “ he said in a hushed voice. Dany looked and sawit, low in the east. The first star was a comet, burning red. Bloodred; fire red; the dragon’s tail. Shecould not have asked for a stronger sign.

iii.She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closerto the conflagration, but the brazierhad not been hot enough.

Throughoutthe younger years of the dragon’s development, both book and show canon seemsto build the hatchlings to some degree, but it is Drogon we so often get moreof a glimpse into. Very often, it is Drogon who is perched on her shoulder ( ashe in in the arrival to Qarth ) or on her lap ( as he is when she is informed ofRobert Baratheon’s death ). We also know in the House of the Undying that it isDrogon who accompanies her, and who protects her and allows her to escape, inbook canon – and in show canon, that it is Drogon who is the first to respondto her command for fire in burning those who leave her in chains. By the timewe get to the Sack of Astapor, I think the fact it is Drogon who she offers upas part of her plan speaks volumes: she knows that he will respond to hercommand, and she knows that he will not hesitate to do so. By this point, it’s veryestablished that of all three dragons, he is the one already utilised the mostin her plans, and the one who she clearly gravitates to most centrally.

Wethen reach the stages of Drogon’s rebellious years. Regardless of whether ornot he intended to burn the child – dragons are intelligent, he likely knewwhat he did – we can either read Drogon’s absence as one of two things. Eitherhe can tell that Daenerys is disappointed in him for what happened, or perhapshorrified with himself; or more likely, he knows that as much as Daenerys is onthe cusp of becoming a woman, she is notready to be his rider yet. I think the show gives us a really beautifulmoment here, where she reaches for him, and she is unsure and he flies away before she can touch him; he knows thatshe isn’t ready for him yet. By default, by this point I believe Drogon knew that she was supposed toride him – and that is confirmed when he comes to save her at the fightingpits. Now, here’s where I take issue with the books: the only way that I will acceptthe necessity of Drogon needing to be beaten into command is if he was truly soconfused and feral after months away that it took him several moments torecognise her. In my own canon, I do think the show had the better iterationhere: he trusted her, and their bond allowed her to mount him, because that waswhat he was born for.

Bythe time we get the first flight, it’s not the bond being formed: it’s thefinal step to formation. When we talk about dragon bonds, I think it means morethan a human and pet; dragons are intelligent, and they are magical. For them to bond with a humanmeans something special: Daenerys and Drogon are the literal entity ofsoulmates, because their souls were born to be connected. He is an ever present feeling at the back of her mind, and likewise, she is with him always, no matter how far apart they are. That goes deeper thanany love, any kind of familiar connection; they are part of each other, and this journey up until now was just aboutfinding their way to that point and establishing / building it.

- oo2. EMOTIONS /COMMUNICATION.

Drogon raised his head,blood dripping from his teeth. The hero leapt onto his back and drove the ironspearpoint down at the base of the dragon’s long scaled neck. Dany and Drogonscreamed as one.

Asan extension of the headcanon that they are soulmates, I think this reads verysimple as follows: they understand the emotions that the other is feeling. Theyfeel pain, that the other is feeling. It isn’t as tangible as Drogon gettinghurt and Daenerys aching in the same spot – but more that she feels that he is suffering, and there’s anoverwhelming desire to help. We get some of that again, from the show, where heis struck in 7.04 and her first instinct upon landing is to remove the spear –and even in the pain addled state of mind that follows for him, the moment shesees Jaime and we see her fear,Drogon responds. We get it again in 7.06, when Viserion is killed; on Dany’sface, we get shock, and though she is mourning clearly in the later parts ofthe episode, her reaction is reserved. For Drogon, whilst she is silent, he is screaming for his fallen sibling. Andyes, that be construed as part of his grief – but likely, it’s because he isfeeling for the both of them.And lastly, we get a beautiful moment of this in 8.03, when Dany is crying for Jorah, and Drogon’s response is to curl around her and coo to her. This isn’t a protective stance - the battle has ended, and he’s low, not on alert. He’s close to her, making soft noises, and that body language communicates comfort, not anything else. He feels her grief, and he feels it himself, and so he lays close to her to offer whatever he can.

Communicationbetween them is not quite so blatant as thinking commands to the other, butsimply instead, that they can sense what the other wants. Likely, Dany was idlychattering to Drogon before handing him to the Masters at the Sack of Astapor,because she knew he would know what to do without command. And though she talksto the dragons in Valyrian, it’s not a language they were likely born knowing (and if they did, likely, they knew others to ) – so more than likely, it’s notthe words that Drogon responds to, but the intent behind each of them. And thedeeper that bond goes, the more we see ( again, more viscerally on the show )that he responds without question – in executing enemies, or even in thegentleness by which he carries her, lets her down, by the way he bristles whenpeople disrespect her. The communication between them is far more primal andintimate than language; it’s spoken by hearts and minds forged together in theflames.

- oo3. FLIGHT NAVIGATION.

Again,an extension of the above, but when it comes to flight navigations, we have noneed here for the way that Daenerys commanded Drogon in the books ( The dragonlords of old Valyria hadcontrolled their mounts with binding spells and sorcerous horns. Daenerys madedo with a word and a whip. Mounted on the dragon’s back, she oft felt as if shewere learning to ride all over again. When she whipped her silver mare on herright flank the mare went left, for a horse’s first instinct is to flee fromdanger. When she laid the whip across Drogon’s right side he veered right, fora dragon’s first instinct is always to attack. Sometimes it did not seem tomatter where she struck him, though; sometimes he went where he would and tookher with him. Neither whip nor words could turn Drogon if he did not wish to beturned. The whip annoyed him more than it hurt him, she had come to see; hisscales had grown harder than horn. ) – this implies that Drogon needed tobe beat into submission, and while he was more stubborn and juvenile then, hewas still her intended and her bonded.

Sowhen we talk about flight navigation, my canon is as follows: they worktogether. Dany knows, mostly, where she wants to go – and Drogon knows how toget them there. For the most, he follows what she wants if it is specificallythe reason they’re travelling; but in situations in battles, etc, he will alsomove without need of command, always to protect his mother. The one (1) timethat she falls from him in my canon, it is not his fault, and he never forgiveshimself for it. Drogon’s flying style is rougherthan most other dragons would be – he’s large, he’s animalistic, and he’s nevertruly understood how fragile she is when it comes to him, because he perceiveshis mother as so strong. Hence why she cuts her hands from holding on, orbruises so badly from him thrashing around, or her thighs get cut from the wayshe grips his scales through her clothes. They work together, and for the mostpart, neither think twice about it.

- oo4. EXTERNALRELATIONSHIPS.

It’sas simple as this – if Daenerys doesn’t like someone, Drogon likely hates thatsomeone. In no world does he ever give a moment’s time to someone who she hasno connection with; which is why it can be construed that Drogon tolerates peoplelike Doreah, or Jorah, or Jon. Because of the emotional connection betweenthem, this transfers to the way he connects with people she loves: by default,he feels at the least some sort of loyalty, or urge to protect them. Firstly,this is because he knows that she cares for them, and that if anything happenedto them, she would be sad. Secondly, because he feels that emotion for themhimself as a result of the bond. And thirdly, because he has likely had somefurther interactions as a result, which formulate his own bond with themindependent of his mother’s emotions.

Withthat being said, there is never, ever a situation where Drogon would choseanother person over his mother. It doesn’t matter what she becomes or what shedoes to anyone else – no singular person, or groups of people are as importantas a rider to a dragon. And likewise, even if Daenerys were to have humanchildren, she would never stop viewing the dragons as her own children too, ortreating them as such. Those relationships, even to her, come beneath the bondshe has with Drogon. And even when it comes to the other dragons, she loves them with all of her heart, butshe will never feel the closeness she does with Drogon because he’s not just inher heart, he’s in her mind.

- oo5. IF EITHER DIED.

Lastly,talking about the potential of death for either of them. For dragons, theirlife span far outlasts their riders – and Daenerys hopes that long after she isgone, he will find someone ( in her own bloodline, or other ) whom he mightfeel that bond with. With that being said, she isn’t just his rider to him, butalso his mother, which means if shedied, that grief would transcend what a dragon might normally feel for theirrider’s death. Unlike what we see in the series finale, if someone were tocause her death, then regardless of who that person was to Drogon, he would nothold back his revenge from the person who took her from him – this bond is morethan a normal dragon and rider, he was bornto be with her, birthed by her, raised by her, and lived by her side forall of his life. This would be the first time he wouldn’t feel her with him, and that would cripple him, to know that hewould live for centuries with that presence void in his life.

Ifthe situation were flipped, and Drogon was lost to her, I believe Daeneryswould feel that grief on a physical level, as well as emotional. Drogon iswarmth and strength at the back of her mind and thoughts – she would not feelwarm again, without him there. Would never feel as strong, without him there.Would never be able to replicate that emotional bond with another being orentity, without him there. Would constantly be calling for him, constantlysearching for him in the skies. That would be a loss that she would never, everrecover from – and I believe in that instance, she would crave the reunion withhim in death, though she might not go so far as harming herself. It wouldtranscend her desire to see anyone else in the afterlife – she would be focusedexclusively on seeing her child again, and being with him again.

Havinga part of one’s soul ripped away would physically hurt, and that is what they would both feel.

#i. headcanons. » a dragon is not a slave. «#long post #long long long post #ii. asks. » you're in the great game now. «#BREATHES #killthebxy #honestly if anyone wants to reblog go off i guess but #personals please don't reblog #i can't believe i just did over 3500 words on this

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