Daenerys Dtiys For Faunary_ On Twitter

Daenerys dtiys for faunary_ on Twitter 🩷💜🤍

fire and blood is really the perfect text for the wiki warriors and i think thats why there are so many fans who act like theres no reason to care about any characters but died-in-childbirth blonde #3 or daeron the diva #16. like they don't want characters or interiority they want a bullet pointed list of things they can point at fed to them in an easily digestable way. not since the marauders fandom has a fan community so transparently used character names to project their ocs onto

a song of ice and fire

Endgame Speculation For Daenerys Targaryen

Daenerys’ arc throughout the novels is heavily rooted in learning the ins and outs of governance and restructing a government to benefit the people. This training would make her the ideal leader to guide Westeros in recovering after the second long night.

"I shall pray as well. On the morrow, come with me to Baelor's Sept, and we will light a hundred candles for our gallant Knight of Flowers." She turned to her handmaid. "Dorcas, bring my crown. The new one, if you please." It was lighter than the old, pale spun gold set with emeralds that sparkled when she turned her head. AffC - Cersei VIII

With Jhiqui's help, she wound the tokar about herself correctly on her third attempt. Irri fetched her crown, wrought in the shape of the three-headed dragon of her House. Its coils were gold, its wings silver, its three heads ivory, onyx, and jade. Dany's neck and shoulders would be stiff and sore from the weight of it before the day was done. A crown should not sit easy on the head. One of her royal forebears had said that, once. ADwD - Daenerys I

Thinking about the thematic connection between the Doom of Valyria and the Storming of the Dragonpit.

It is always the injustice done to the innocents that ultimately leads to the dying of the dragons.

Now, the only vestige of Valyria that remains is Volantis, the corruption festering out from within it's black-walled heart.

One looked toward the Long Bridge and the black-walled heart of Old Volantis across the river.

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Inside the Black Walls, Volantenes of the Old Blood still keep court in ancient palaces, attended by armies of slaves. Outside, the foreigners, freedmen, and lowborn of a hundred nations may be found. Seafarers and traders swarm the city’s markets and harbors, together with slaves almost beyond count. It is said that in Volantis, there are five slaves for every free man—a disproportion in numbers matched only by the ancient Ghiscari cities of Slaver’s Bay.

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The heart of Old Volantis is the city-within-the-city—an immense labyrinth of ancient palaces, courtyards, towers, temples, cloisters, bridges, and cellars, all contained within the great oval of the Black Walls raised by the Freehold of Valyria in the first flush of its youthful expansion. Two hundred feet tall, and so thick that six four-horse chariots can race along their battlements side by side (as they do each year to celebrate the founding of the city), these seamless walls of fused black dragonstone, harder than steel or diamond, stand in mute testimony to Volantis’s origins as a military outpost. Only those who can trace their ancestry back to Old Valyria are allowed to dwell within the Black Walls; no slave, freedman, or foreigner is permitted to set foot within without the express invitation of a scion of the Old Blood.

Though there is also Daenerys, the last of the Valyrian Dragonlords, who has brought the dragons back and uses them for the purpose of helping the innocents.

“Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”

I think it is only fitting that she sets her sights on Volantis at long last.

“Should you reach your queen, give her a message from the slaves of Old Volantis.” She touched the faded scar upon her wrinkled cheek, where her tears had been cut away. “Tell her we are waiting. Tell her to come soon.”

It will be another wrong Daenerys can set to right.

A long stone table filled this room. Above it floated a human heart, swollen and blue with corruption, yet still alive. It beat, a deep ponderous throb of sound, and each pulse sent out a wash of indigo light. The figures around the table were no more than blue shadows. As Dany walked to the empty chair at the foot of the table, they did not stir, nor speak, nor turn to face her. There was no sound but the slow, deep beat of the rotting heart. [...] Then indigo turned to orange, and whispers turned to screams. Her heart was pounding, racing, the hands and mouths were gone, heat washed over her skin, and Dany blinked at a sudden glare. Perched above her, the dragon spread his wings and tore at the terrible dark heart, ripping the rotten flesh to ribbons, and when his head snapped forward, fire flew from his open jaws, bright and hot. She could hear the shrieks of the Undying as they burned, their high thin papery voices crying out in tongues long dead. Their flesh was crumbling parchment, their bones dry wood soaked in tallow. They danced as the flames consumed them; they staggered and writhed and spun and raised blazing hands on high, their fingers bright as torches.