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iris-sistibly · 2 years

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She was warmth...

Once a beautiful little girl who couldn't count to twenty, was told about the great house she was born into, and how their family was robbed of everything. The throne, title, and power. She grew up believing they were their enemies, oblivious of what truly happened, unaware of how love and madness brought the dynasty down.

She was light…

The blood of a once great house, the mind of a ruler, the heart of a true queen and a promising future under her reign. When she stepped into the blazing fire and came back unharmed with her children–the most majestic creatures to ever exist in the realm, her people believed she was destined for greatness. She discovered that she was more than a widowed Khaleesi, and she started her journey to retake what was rightfully hers.

She was fierce…

During her stay in Qarth, her dragons were abducted. They wanted to take her babies away, any mother would do everything she can to save her children. She burned them alive and locked away Xaro Xhoan Daxos and Doreah who made a fool out of her.

It was a warning to her foes: cross her, and you'll die.

She was hope…

She was a liberator, earning her title as the "breaker of chains." She freed the slaves of Astapor from the cruel hands of their masters, and ordered the Unsullied to slay the latter. Every single one of them, it had to be done. People do not deserve to suffer, to be treated like animals, slavery has to end. They loved her, followed her and supported her cause. It gave her power, a clearer vision of a better future. It was her purpose she believed, and it fueled her desire to take the iron throne.

She was strength and power…

She did the same for Mereen, and crucified the masters. The same punishment they've given to those slaves they killed without mercy. They were evil, they deserved that kind of pain. The people praised her, called her their mother, and she became their queen. She burned the khals who insulted her and threatened to violate her. There was no room in this world for men who treat women as mere tools. She showed them power, and they respected her, the victories she won gained her allies. This was something she learned the hard way:

The odds only ever favor the strong and those who have the upperhand. Thus, she sought for power that was far greater than what she already had.

We allowed her, believing she was the future. We justified her actions, for we thought she was the bringer of good, the kind and just queen the realm deserved. We didn't know that it fed on her darkness.

As she continued her journey, she lost so many. It was a heavy price to pay, and each time, she lost a part of her in the most painful way possible, and we didn't know that we were losing her. All this time she had been dying, we failed to acknowledge that.

Viserys Targaryen, her own brother who sold her like a whore to the khal of the Dothraki; it tainted her innocence...

It killed her youth.

Mirri Maz Duur used blood magic to take the lives of Rhaego, her son and Khal Drogo her husband; it shattered her hopes of building a family she never had...

It killed her gentleness.

The day of her dragons' abduction, she found Irri lying lifeless on the floor. The woman who taught her the language and ways of the Dothraki, the person she considered as one of her friends.

She mourned for the death of Ser Barristan Selmy, the man who despite the short time they've been together, has proven to be a loyal ally. A good man who told her stories about her brother Rhaegar and the truth about her father, the Mad King.

It killed her kindness.

She witnessed her children fall to their deaths--the first was Viserion, who was struck by the Night King and then Rhaegal who was hit by the scorpion bolts of Euron Greyjoy. They were the only children she'll ever have....

It killed her sympathy and empathy.

She was by Jorah of Mormont's side when he passed. The man who loved her, protected her until the very end...

It killed her compassion.

She watched in horror as Cersei Lannister ordered the beheading of Missandei of Naath. One of the people who has always been beside her, and she was the last straw...

It killed her ability to show mercy.

She was already dead. Long before she took the iron throne, the Dany we all knew and loved was murdered in the most horrible ways possible. Her dreams fed on her ambitions which later on turned to lust, while her grief was devoured by hatred which grew into wrath.

And it brought forth a curse that no Targaryen could ever escape, an illness that has no cure. She assured that she wasn't her father, we believed her. But perhaps we chose to turn a blind eye, ignored the possibility that she was born with it. The madness, the sickness that killed her father.

She has always had it...

It was too obvious to deny. Though she tried to be different, to be better, but her tragedies brought the worst in her and I couldn't really blame her for that. Still, killing the very people she swore to protect wasn't justifiable. It still breaks my heart to say this, but it had to be done.

Sometimes I can't help but wonder, had she been raised and nurtured in a loving home, would she have done better? Would she have managed to fight her illness? Had I been adamant to convince her to stay in Meereen, would Cersei and our other enemies leave her be? Had she never found out about Jon Snow's real identity, would she not have craved more for the iron throne?

It was too late and foolish of me to think about it now, for no amount of what ifs can change the past.

I'd like to believe that she did not die completely, there was still a part of her old self that remained despite of everything.

Her ability to love...

I saw it with my own eyes--Dany. How her eyes lit up whenever she sees him, her smile when she talks to him, how she looks at him with tenderness and yearning, the passionate moments they spent behind close doors.

They loved each other. But by the time she defeated the Lannister forces, she was already too damaged to heal, too shattered to become whole again, too mad to become sane.

She was fire--bright, warm, and beautiful...but she was also destruction, wrath and fear.

And only ice can douse the fire.

He was ice, and he was the only one who could stop her so history may not repeat itself, the one who could break the cycle of anger and vengeance.

He was the only one who could save her, that remaining part of her that was good. Save their love, so it may not be consumed by hatred. So he may keep her alive for the rest of his days, and hope that when he meets her in the afterlife...if it does exist, she'll see the woman he loves, not the tyrant who succumbed to insanity.

She is his queen, now and always.

I have come to realize that it is not us who should seek power, for our eyes are easily blinded, and our minds corrupted. Power will come to those who are free of greed, bears no grudges, and does not have the ability to rule but to lead. It was a riddle in the game of thrones we all failed to decipher, and it resulted in the deaths of many--the consequence we had to suffer.

If this journal entry reaches Jon Snow one day, I'd like to answer his question from many years ago, the last time I spoke to him before he returned to Castle Black: it takes courage to fight for what's right, but it takes true love to set things right. Dany...the real Dany knows that.

Jon Snow carefully closed Tyrion's journal and held it close to his chest as he lay on his bed. Parting words he received shortly after his death. Jon was old too, his pale skin was wrinkled, his once black hair ashened over time, he spent the rest of his life living in exile with Tormund and the wildlings. He was parted from his siblings and the rest of the world.

Yet, he felt at peace.

He never stopped thinking about her though. Wondering what could have been had they met under different circumstances, he liked to imagine the two of them...in a home they built, surrounded by the people they love, watching their own children grow into men and women they would be very proud of, lay side by side on their death bed when the time comes.

So much for wishful thinking.

Jon closed his eyes and drifted. Strangely, he found himself in that waterfall. A place that held a special memory of her during their brief stay in Winterfell, the stillness before the world collapsed.

It was exactly the same, the beauty it exudes, the snow that covered the surroundings, the winter...and he felt that familiar sense of belongingness, that feeling one feels when he is home.

He felt energetic once more, his youthful body, the strength he possessed many years ago. He was back to his younger self again. A dream perhaps? Or has he been imagining things again?

A pair of hands touched his. Pale, soft skin that he missed holding so much, and when he looked up he saw her, looking exactly the same as he remembered when they first visited this place.

"Dany..." he whispered her name. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't say more, he was afraid that she might harbor deep hatred towards him. But he was caught off guard when she caressed his cheek, her hand felt so warm, like she had never died, "Don't be afraid," she told her. She was always so beautiful, but when she smiles, she looked ethereal, and for a moment, he was out of breath. She looked so serene, with no traces of fury or insanity. She was no queen or khaleesi, she was no mother of dragons...

It was just her, the woman he loves and will always love.

When he looked into her eyes, the world stopped revolving, time stopped running, and for the first time in his entire life he thought of nothing else. She was his, and he was hers...now and always.

When they held each other, everything turned into ashes: the guilt he felt when he plunged his blade to her heart, the loneliness of losing her, and the longingness of wanting to be with her once more.

He wasn't letting her go again, not this time.

He pressed his lips onto hers and kissed her passionately, lovingly, savoring this very moment he had always wanted. This time, he never opened his eyes.

Jon Snow, born Aegon Targaryen died in his sleep. He took no wife and fathered no child, thus upon his death, the Targaryen bloodline has come to an end, once the greatest house this realm has ever had.

Samwell Tarly sighed in relief as he finished writing the last chapter of the book, he carefully closed it and ran his fingers through the letters on the cover that was painted in gold. After awhile, he placed the book on one of the shelves of the Citadel, and smiled as sense of fulfillment filled in his heart. All of them will pass one day, but their stories will live...and their story will never be forgotten.

An ode to Ice and Fire (by: Iris).

Written from Tyrion Lannister, Jon Snow and Samuel Tarly's POVs.

Years after GoT ended, I decided to binge watch all eight seasons (I know guys, I'm sorry 😅). Definitely didn't like the last two seasons that much but overall, I enjoyed watching it. Looking forward to House of the Dragon in August.

This was originally just Tyrion's POV, but it ended up being a POV within a POV within a POV, and I actually love how it turned out.

There is no denying that Daenerys Targaryen was one of the characters that was worth hyping, it's just so sad that she ended up that way.

P.S. I can't come up with a good title for this, might change it later on if I do😜.

SS: Game of Thrones Season 8 (episode 6)

#fanfiction #hbo series #game of thrones #jon x daenerys #jonerys #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #tyrion lannister #samwell tarly #emilia clarke #kit harington #john bradley #george rr martin #a song of ice and fire

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