#like didn't missandei do her hair for her

[ashleyfanfic]

For the spicy smutty prompts game how about

luxury ) - our muses have sex in the back of a limousine for Jonerys? You’re writing is amazing and I love BBQ all your Jonerys stories!!!

I am so sorry this took so long. I was in the mood to write smut then in the mood to write anything but. However, I did get this finished.

This is Jonerys and it's just filth. No plot here. Could be a future missing scene from Dangerous Woman.

They sprinted across the crowded parking lot, having snuck out a side entrance. He led the way as she nearly tripped on her shoes. Their limo was in the middle and he saw their driver close to the entrance talking and smoking with the other drivers. He knew the backdoor would be open as he'd requested that Bowen leave it that way.

He opened the door for her and they both slipped inside and he quietly closed the door so they didn't draw attention to themselves. She was giggling even as she slid down the zipper on the back of her dress. She slid the straps down her shoulders and he ditched his jacket and tie.

The only thing he liked about formal affairs was that Dany wore dresses so tight she rarely wore anything beneath them. As she peeled her dress off and tossed it to the other seat, he was glad to see she had stuck with tradition. They had also learned that their best bet to avoid any unsightly stains that naked was the only way to do this. She helped pull Jon's pants off as he rid himself of his shirt, then kicked off his shoes. Soon his underpants, pants, and socks joined her dress.

Instead of joining him on the seat, she moved between his legs, her hands sliding over his thighs, touching his warm skin. She puffed out a hot breath against the side of his cock, watching it twitch then locked eyes with him. She lifted his cock from where it pressed against his belly and swiped her tongue along the thick vein beneath and up to the tip. She did it twice more, never breaking her eyes away from his. His hands gripped the edge of the seat, not wanting to ruin her hair yet again, and be fussed at by Missandei. He slouched lower in the seat, spread his legs wider. Her hand came up to fondle his balls and broke eye contact to take his length into her mouth. He groaned and laid a hand on her shoulder, just needing to touch her skin as she started to work him. "Fuck, Dany, you're so fucking good."

She popped off of him but used her hand to keep stroking. She slid along his length to his balls and sucked on both before taking him fully in her mouth again. At this rate, he was going to come before he was ever inside her. He tugged on her arms and she went willingly. He loved seeing her lipstick smeared across her lips. "You're so fucking hot, you know that?" he whispered before he kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth able to taste himself mixed with her spearmint gum she'd chewed earlier.

He palmed her breasts and she gasped when his fingers pinched her nipples. "Jon, I want to sit on your face," she broke away from the kiss to declare. He slouched down even farther on the seat, so his shoulders and back still touched the leather.

"Ride me, love."

She climbed onto the seat, pressed a knee on each side of his head, then lowered herself down on top of him. She gripped the back of the seat as she looked down at his dark hair that had fanned out around him. She spread her legs a bit more, pressing the heat of her cunt directly over his mouth and within seconds, Jon had her panting his name and she made little thrusts over his tongue. She nearly collapsed as she shivered and shook above him, rubbing her cunt against his offered tongue.

He slid out from beneath her and back onto the seat. "Come here," he said as he crooked his finger at her. She straddled his waist and he slid his length inside her. She moaned appreciatively, "Oh, fuck, Dany. Ride me, gorgeous," he whispered against her skin. She began moving in slow rolls of her hips and his hand slid over her skin, plucking her nipples, gripping her hips and ass, having her bounce harder over him. She leaned back, hands pressed to his knees. She watched as he lewdly licked his thumb and brought it to her clit, swirling around. She stopped moving as she grew tighter and tighter and she finally fell over the edge, shaking. "Oh, Jon," she panted as she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his bow. He held onto her as he rolled her to her back.

He had slipped out of her, but thrust back in quickly, which caused a long moan to drag from her lips. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the car along with Dany's moan and Jon's whispered words of her beauty, his love for her, and her pretty cunt. She loved when he talked dirty. "This is only going to hold me off until we get home," he grunted. "I'm going to eat this pretty cunt until you can't feel your legs and then I'm going to fuck you until neither of us can move tomorrow."

"Yes!" She cried. "Oh, fuck, Jon, I'm so close." He kept thrusting at the same pace and force and soon she was falling over the edge again. She shook around him and soon he was emptying himself inside of her.

She dug her nails into his arse as he made shallow thrusts and dropped his head to her shoulder. "Fuck you're spectacular," he grunted against her ear. He pulled back to kiss her. She held his body against hers, not allowing him to withdraw from her yet. The alarm on his phone, that was buried in his suit jacket across the limo, buzzed annoyingly. "That's our fifteen minute warning."

He climbed off of her, grabbed his jacket and turned off the alarm. He stopped at the minibar, grabbed a bottle of water and one of the cloth napkin, and cleaned her up as best he could. "Maybe when we fuck in places like this, I should wear condoms."

She shook her head. "No." When he was done, he handed over her dress and reached for his underpants and trousers. They quickly got dressed and Dany reached for her makeup bag to do a few touch-ups. She hid the smears of her lipstick and freshened up her eyes, erasing the smudges that had appeared when she'd been sucking his cock and tears had slid down her face. Most of her make-up was waterproof, but there were some errant smudges that did occur. She fluffed out the back of her hair and soon they were both ready to go back into the party.

Jon climbed out first and she saw him wave to someone. When she stepped out of the limo, she saw it was his driver who only shook his head. "Out of curiosity, why did you say 'no' to condoms," he whispered as they mingled in through the crowd and stopped outside the ladies room.

She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips against his ear. "Because I like feeling you dripping out of me," she hummed and pulled back to wipe at the lip stick smudged on his face. "You should go in and get the make up off your face. And... other liquids."

He shook his head. "No. I fully intend to smell your cunt the rest of the night," he said as he kissed her on the cheek. "Meet you back here in three minutes?"

She nodded and left him to go into the bathroom.

He could still taste her and he fully intended to have it on his tongue the rest of his night. No champagne could be as sweet.

#jonerys #jon x dany

[magalidragon]

Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it is the overwhelming anxiety and uncertainty I feel as an XX chromosome entity with a uterus in the United States. Maybe it’s just the pics of Keet and my wishy-washy feelings about the new show. Either way, here’s a drabble I wrote in 30 minutes and barely proofread. Enjoy! For @youwerenevermine ! 😎

The really hot guy with the ass that wouldn’t quit was fighting with his girlfriend. Again.

Dany sipped her beer, watching the dramatics, waiting for the next band to perform. She was looking forward to it; it was called Iron Bull and the lead singer was exceptionally cute. She obsessed over one of their songs "No One" when she was feeling extra moody and needed a pick-me-up. Seeing them at Dunstonbury was going to be a highlight of the three-day festival.

Except for the performance being put on beside her, with the really hot guy who had been in the same lawn block as her, who wore way too tight jeans and Henleys that appeared to be specifically designed for his no-doubt sculpted torso. She swore yesterday's white one was painted to his abs, each one visible under the thin fabric. It was enough to make her miss most of some of the bands yesterday, watching him dance, imagining the fabric must have also been made of some titanium strength cotton to keep from shredding with his moves.

And such adorable moves they were too. Rather poncy, she thought, the little shoulder dance thing he did, but she liked it.

She had noted that he was there with a group of people. A redheaded woman who came for short periods at a time and then left for longer periods, her wrist filled with VIP bands-- Dany thought her name was Sarah or something, perhaps Sansa?-- there was the tiny woman with a mullet-like cap of dark hair, boots with about four-inch platforms, and a very metal-like fashion aesthetic. There was the other hot guy and his hotter girlfriend, who disappeared for long periods of ftime as well. Robb and Margie, maybe?

And then there was this guy. And the other redhead.

Missandei poked her hard in the shoulder. "HEy, stalker. Got you another beer."

"Thanks, here, take it. It's too hoppy for me." Dany traded the beers, returning her attention to the couple fighting. Their voices were raising; they were Northern, but the chick's accent was way harsher. The Linguistics major in Dany told her it was definitely far North, perhaps even Beyond the Wall, while the guy's was almost certainly a bit farther south of the Wall. She nodded to the couple. "They're fighting again."

"It's like a soap opera."

"You know they haven't had any PDA, not like everyone else around here." At Dunstonbury there was a good chance you saw a bit of everything. So far, all she'd seen is them fighting and the guy was only smiling and laughing when the redhead was somewhere else. It was a three-day festival and they were almost done with day two. She narrowed her eyes. "It seems that Red there thinks Crow is a cheapskate and that he doesn't care about her as much as he should."

"Crow?"

"That's what she calls him." He kind of looked like a crow, she supposed, with his jet black curls that today were pulled into a messy man-bun. He had been wearing mostly black. Except after he'd changed earlier. Red had tossed a drink at him in anger. She pushed her fedora up a little higher on her head so she could get a better view at them while trying to not appear as though she were actually watching them. She chuckled. "I guess he didn't splurge for VIP tickets."

"She would not do well in the VIP area I don't think."

Dany agreed silently; Red was definitely not someone who seemed like they could hobnob with the high and mighty of Westeros society and celebrity, who were often in the VIP areas where they didn't have to wear muddy wellies and ripped jeans. Or if they were, they didn't have a speck of dirt on them. She shrugged. "That other redhead with them has the VIP tickets."

"Maybe he got them for her."

Dany didn't think so; the other redhead seemed disgusted by everyone in the party. It was more likely she was a sibling, judging from her interactions. She nodded again at the fighting couple. "Watch, Red is going to say something about how he doesn't care about her anymore."

Sure enough, the woman raised her voice even higher, throwing her arms out. "At least pretend to give a shit Jon! You can at least hold my hand!"

Jon, so that was the hot guy's name. Dany hadn't heard it yet. It suited him. Simple. Jon turned away from Red, trying to play off her fighting. His pale cheeks, above a scruffy beard, were pink in embarrassment no doubt. "I'm not doing this with you again, we're not even together!"

That was new information.

Red stomped her feet, tears in her voice. "This was supposed to be us trying again!"

"Can't keep trying with you Ygritte, and no, it wasn't, you invited yourself!" He waved his hand. "Go find Val, you brought her with you, you can't seem to go anywhere without your cousin, I was dating you, not both of you!"

"I only bring her because you shut me out!"

"And how do I do that Ygritte? That would require me to actually care about what you have to say which right now I do not."

Oof, burn, Dany thought, sipping her beer and swishing it around a moment to savor the taste before swallowing. She narrowed her eyes, wondering what else was going on between them, and they continued to bicker, until she heard it, confirming her inner suspicions.

"We broke up, Ygritte, you're my ex-girlfriend, I'm not doing this again."

"I wasn't really your ex girlfriend when you called me a month ago after having too many drinks with Tormund and wanted me to come over!"

"My mistake, clearly!"

He looked pained, this poor hot guy. He was trying to be nice to the woman, who Dany would have smacked already given her nasty comments she'd heard the last couple of days, her constant whining, and seemingly never to have her wallet on her so the guy-- the ex-boyfriend-- was always payin gfor her stuff, while she was also compalining that he didn't get her VIP tickets so she was in the mud and could barely see and hear the bands. If she was from Beyond the Wall, Dany was shocked she didn't seem to enjoy the mud and being with the peasants.

Except maybe she had high tastes, but the designer shoes she woere were battered beyond belief and didn't match the rest of her outfit. Dany didn't judge the mismatched clothing choices-- she was wearing a fedora with an exposed dragon-scale bra and camisole with her cutoff shorts and her knee-high wellies. She was the queen of mismatched fashion. It was probably just this woman's clear hypocrisy.

She felt bad for the guy. Plus, she wanted to talk to him. They'd shared a few smiles here and there, catching each other's eye the last day or so. They'd even chuckled at each other when they'd almost bumped into each other in the bar tent earlier. She pursed her lips and made an executive decision.

"Hold my beer."

Missandei frowned. "Where are you going? The band is about to start!"

"Watch the fireworks."

Dany sauntered off, sliding between a few people in the short distance between where she and Missandei were camped and where the hot northerner and his ex were still bickering. She caught his eye and he frowned momentarily, before she plastered a wide smile on her face and threw her arms out. "Jon! Oh my Gods! I was looking for you, can you believe how packed this place is!?"

And she flung her arms around his neck, her nails digging into the back of his head, dragging his stunned face towards her and planted an open-mouthed sloppy kiss on his-- wow, incredibly soft-- lips.

He froze for a second and then melted towards her, his hands resting on her hips, just above the low rise of her shorts, his thumbs pressed to her hipbones. They burned hot and she forgot herself a second, wanting to savor this and even extend it, but then she remembered what she was doing. She let go and patted her palm against his cheek, knocking her hip into his. "Hi!" she exclaimed, offering her hand. "I"m Dany! You must be Ygritte, Jon told me you were with him. Nice to meet you!"

Ygritte's mouth dropped, her blue eyes wide, stunned. She snapped her mouth closed and swallowed hard, turning her head slowly to Jon. "Jon," she breathed. "Who is this?"

"She's uh...she's..."

"Dany," Dany repeated. She beamed. "We met just before the festival, I finally got here, was looking for him. I've been in the VIP area the last day. My brother is one of the organizers." That’s wasn’t even a lie either.

"What!?" the redhead sputtered. She grabbed a backpack from the rumpled blanket on the ground, beating the hot guy on the shoulder with it for a second. "You stupid son of a bitch! You fucking crow! This is it, we're done!” She hit him one more time for good measure and stormed off, screaming for someone named Val to come with her.

The packed crowds aroudn them screamed in excitement, the music starting up on the stage, as the band appeared. She looked up at the guy, shrugging. "I do apologize about that, I realize the double standard, if you had done that to me it would not have been as well received."

"Uh..." he stammered, his forehead wrinkling. "I do'nt..."

"I mean I just assaulted you. I kissed you without your consent." She smiled. "Although towards the end there I think one might argue there was consent but I won’t assume. I am sorry."

He laughed, raking his fingers over his hair. He had a few bracelets around his wrists and a bandana wrapped around another one, which he undid and went to tie back his hair again. "Aye, I...well...you surprised me."

"I really am Dany, by the way."

"And I'm really Jon, how'd you know?"

"I've heard you guys."

He turned bright red, shouting above the band that began. "Sorry about that! She's my ex, she kind of invited herself and wlel...I have trouble letting go sometimes."

"I gathered," she laughed. She gestured back towards her area. "I'm going to head back. I'm glad I didn't misread the entire thing." She went to step away, but he thrust his hand out to grab her wrist, preventing her. She cocked her head, quizzical.

Jon licked his lips and gestured up towards the stage. "The band? Iron Bull? The lead is my cousin's boyfriend. Gendry Waters, you want to come back to the VIP area? I think I owe you for saving my ass with my ex."

Her heart jumped up to her throat. "Oh, you don't have to..."

"No, I...I've been watching you." His eyes widened when she burst into laughter. "No, no! Not like that, that's...Fuck! I suck at this!"

She waved her hand. "No, it's fine, I've been watching you too. Thought that's why I'd come save you, she seems like a handful."

"IT's why she's an ex!"

"I get it!" She nodded, agreeing, and bit her bottom lip. "Sounds good, let me just tell my friend." She pushed back through the crowd to Missandei and grabbed her beer back, guzzling half of it and swallowing hard. "See you later girl, I'll call you."

Missandei looked over her shoulder at Jon, who was waiting, watching them. She howled laughing, smacking Dany's ass. "You go! Call me later, let me know you're safe."

"Later." She grabbed her jacket and jumped away, dodging a mud puddle and joining Jon, who reached into his back pocket and took out a VIP wristband. She hooted, delighted. "You had this all along and she wanted one and you didn't give it to her? You're cruel Jon."

He smiled sheepishly. "It's a long story, but...well...she just was so demanding about it!"

"Don't have to explain to me."

"What's Dany short for?" he shouted, pushing through dancing people to get to the edge of the lawn.

"Daenerys!"

"Daenerys? Well I'm Jon, like you got already. Jon Snow."

"Nice to finally meet you, I've just been calling you 'The Hot Guy' in my head!"

He pinked again, but said nothing, breaking free of the main crowd and working towards the side of the lawn towards the metal gates that separated out the VIP area from the peasants. He paused under an overhang, near one of the drink tents, and smiled again. "The Hot Guy, huh?"

"Sorry, I know that diminishes you to a sex object when I know there is more to you than that."

"Are you always this direct?"

"Are you always this shy?" she shot back, still grinning. She shrugged. "I don't believe in wasting time."

Jon laughed. "Well I should apologize for saying that I've been calling you the Dragon Queen in my head."

Dany's eyebrows arched. "Oh?""

He pointed to her wrist, with three dragons tattooed just under her palm, and then to her ribcage, visible when she moved forwards and her shirt gaped at the side. There was the outline of a dragon making its way along the pale skin there. "And your silver hair, like a queen."

"I appreciate that." It took a second, but she finally processed what the actual meaning of what he said meant. She giggled, poking his chest-- whoa, it was crazy taut, he had to be ripped-- saying, "So why didn't you say anything earlier? Could have saved you some pain with your ex."

He flushed again. "I didn't know how to talk to you....if I'd known you would just walk up and kiss me, I suppose I would have just said, hello, my name is Jon, do you want to get a drink?"

Dany's violet eyes glittered, meeting what she now recognized were his gray ones-- an odd gray, not black like she'd thought-- which fixed intensely on hers. She leaned closer to him, her arm reaching up around his neck, murmuring into his ear, feeling him shvier under her. "Why don't you ask me now?"

Jon brushed his lips over her ear, whispering, "Hello, my name is Jon, do you want to get a drink with me?"

She sealed the answer with another kiss, before tugging him away, saying something about needing to evaluate his dance moves before she could be completely certain. Truth be told, she really needed to see this "shoulder dance" up close and personal.

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #my drabbles #stupid drabble

[kellyvela]

genuine question where do stark antis get the idea that starks are colonizers/white supremacist. I see that accusation brought up with no proof. So i’m very confused?

Because the First Men fought a war with the Children of the Forest, and antis made up the simile between the First Men as colonizers and Children of the Forest as natives.

I bet they didn't read about the war between the First Men and the Children of the Forest from The World of Ice and Fire. The war lasted hundred of years and the COTF were not defenseless, they fought with magic and as fiercely as the First Men, but at the end, they made peace and the COTF influence was so strong that the First Men adopted the Old Gods religion.

Conquest is a word more related to Valyrians in general and Targaryen in particular.

And the white supremacist accusations came from a GOT Season 8 scene where two northern girls were afraid of Missandei. But this was something from D&D, maybe from Jeyne Poole's reaction in AGOT:

Jeyne Poole confessed herself frightened by the look of Jalabhar Xho, an exile prince from the Summer Isles who wore a cape of green and scarlet feathers over skin as dark as night, but when she saw young Lord Beric Dondarrion, with his hair like red gold and his black shield slashed by lightning, she pronounced herself willing to marry him on the instant.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

But Sansa Stark was different. Let's compare these book scenes about Princes from the Summer Islands:

Sansa Stark, praising Jalabhar Xho's native garments and dancing with him during her forced wedding with Tyrion Lannister:

Jalabhar Xho was all in feathers, a plumage so fantastic and extravagant that he seemed like to take flight. 

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VIII

Merry Crane took the floor with the exile prince Jalabhar Xho, gorgeous in his feathered finery. 

(...) The music spun them apart before Sansa could think of a reply. It was Mace Tyrell opposite her, red-faced and sweaty, and then Lord Merryweather, and then Prince Tommen. "I want to be married too," said the plump little princeling, who was all of nine. "I'm taller than my uncle!"

"I know you are," said Sansa, before the partners changed again. Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful, Jalabhar Xho said something she did not understand in the Summer Tongue, and Lord Redwyne wished her many fat children and long years of joy. And then the dance brought her face-to-face with Joffrey.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

Daella Targaryen, daughter of King Jaehareys Targaryen:

Once, in the halls of the Red Keep, Daella had encountered a prince from the Summer Isles in his feathered cloak, and squealed in terror. His black skin had made her take him for a demon.

—The Long Reign—Jaehaerys and Alysanne—Policy, Progeny, and Pain, Fire & Blood

Also this:

“Its basic tenet was simple. The Faith of the Seven had been born in the hills of Andalos of old, and had crossed the narrow sea with the Andals. The laws of the Seven, as laid down in sacred text and taught by the septas and septons in obedience to the Father of the Faithful, decreed that brother might not lie with sister, nor father with daughter, nor mother with son, that the fruits of such unions were abominations, loathsome in the eyes of the gods. All this the Exceptionalists affirmed, but with this caveat: the Targaryens were different. Their roots were not in Andalos, but in Valyria of old, where different laws and traditions held sway. A man had only to look at them to know that they were not like other men; their eyes, their hair, their very bearing, all proclaimed their differences. And they flew dragons. They alone of all the men in the world had been given the power to tame those fearsome beasts, once the Doom had come to Valyria.

“One god made us all, Andals and Valyrians and First Men,” Septon Alfyn would proclaim from his litter, “but he did not make us all alike. He made the lion and the aurochs as well, both noble beasts, but certain gifts he gave to one and not the other, and the lion cannot live as an aurochs, nor an aurochs as a lion. For you to bed your sister would be a grievous sin, ser…but you are not the blood of the dragon, no more than I am. What they do is what they have always done, and it is not for us to judge them.”

—A Time of Testing—The Realm Remade - Birth, Death, and Betrayal Under King Jaehaerys I

White supremacists, who?

#anon asks #targies gonna targ

[vbempress]

#uncommonscenario

#Targaryenweirdness

Scene: A Queen, A Rouge, A Princess, and Dragons

#TheQueen

"Where am I?" Visenya asked and look around feeling the heat of the dry land on her skin burning her like dragon fire, not like she had even been burned by Dragonfire. Her death doesn't count as she is already dead at that time and already handed the torch and the faith of Westeros and Targaryen Dynasty to Maegor.

She looks around and her eyes widen seeing the great pyramid from a far.

"Meereen?"

She asked she look to her side and her eyes narrowed not seeing her sword Dark sister but Blackfyre, she needs to find out why is she alive and why in the Fourteen Flames is she incomplete-

Hearing a loud disturbing, not uncommon, roar behind her she looks up and chuckles, seeing those massive wings cover her body she stands up as Vhagar slammed his massive body down greeting her.

"Well, Hello Vhagar. We see each other again and I am glad for that as we are far away from the place I died."

#TheRougePrince

"God Damn!" He cursed as he felt his whole body in pain, he needs to stop doing that kind of stunt he is not young to act like his limbs are still intact well kinda more than Viserys.

He would kill that damn one-eyed troll if he didn't survive but he make sure he didn't, Dark sister make sure of that.

A roar surprise him from musing, that same unique roar that he saw bring forth the greatest dragon alive, sitting up he hiss as his limbs felt soar looking up his jaw drop as Caraxes squeak again.

"Caraxes?" He mumbled as he lift his hand to touch his dragon, he chuckles as Caraxes push him down again, "Down boy! You boy did it!"

He cheered and hug his Dragon.

He killed them, They killed them! And he survived!

He needs to tell Rhaenyra-

"Why is it feel like we are at Essos again?" He asked and pulled away from his Dragon and place his hand above his eyes as the sun shine at them.

"Why are we at Essos?" He asked and look around his eyes blink, "Why in Meereen?"

He looks at him and see Dark sister laying at the ground, his eyebrow clash as he remember that he stab his Favorite brainless nephew using his Sword, but it looks like it crawled back to him.

"oh boy..." He mumbled feeling like he is turning mad, he know it something is wrong.

"We need to know why are we alive."

#ThePrincess

She looked up as she heard Two massive Roars, she can see Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal perk up at the call roaring also at that.

"There are Dragons." She said to her loyal Friend and walking at the balcony of Meereen even from afar she can see a image of Dragons flying on her directions as her children roar calling for them, for their kin.

"Missy! Look! Dragons!" She beamed her eyes brighten as Two roars answered her children's call, They fly above circling as they waited at them to come near.

"It is My Queen." Her Naath friend smiled as they stared at the coming Dragons, two massive dragons that her children.

She felt her blood, Dragon blood, pump alive as the Dragon flew passed the great pyramid and circle around, she can also see two silver blond hair above it's back with a saddle, she swore they look at her as their dragons familiarize with one another.

"Targaryen's Missandei...They are Targaryen's! I'm not alone Missy! I have a Family!"

----

#VisenyaTargaryen #DaemonTargaryen #DaenerysTargaryen

#TimeTravel

#VisenyameetsDaemonmeetsDaenerys

#DragonsFireandBlood

Just a random scenery that playing with my mind, me being weird and lonely!

#FireandBlood #visenya targaryen #daenerys targaryen #daemon targaryen #time travel #house targaryen

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 23 DAENERYS II (pages 311-330)

Missandei has her special guest cameo as Dany inspects the slave army Unsullied while being insulted by a man who doesn't know she speaks the language. Jorah pushes for her to go ahead and buy the army.

-

- and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze. Twenty feet tall she reared. She had a woman's face, with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and pointed ivory teeth. Water gushed yellow from her heavy breasts.

this sounds really cool, but also makes me horrifically curious about GRRM's porn viewing habits for reasons I can't explain.

🎶49 times we fought that beast🎶your old man an me🎶it had a chicken head with duck feet🎶and a woman's face too🎶 ...sorry, where was I?

... psh, slaver bastard's taking advantage of the perceived language barrier to be a complete rude piece of trash.

"The Good Master Kraznys asks, are they not magnificent?" The girl spoke the Common tongue well, for one who had never been to Westeros. No older than ten, she had the round flat face, dusky skin, and golden eyes of Naath. The Peaceful People, her folk were called.

Missandei!!! She's only ten? wow, D&D went hard with the age up. Like I knew she was a lot younger in the books, but show Missandei has to be, what? 18 at the youngest? early twenties? ... brb googling. ... yeah that's what I thought, her actress was about 22-23 when she first played Missandei.

... wow, just look how quickly these human rights violations are stacking up. It's like, GRRM is really determined to drive home how horrible these slave owners are, like we couldn't tell they were trash human beings just from them being slave owners.

The Unsullied need to Unionise.

This chapter is so fucking gross.

"- Tell her they are like Valyrian steel, folded over and over and hammered for years on end until they are stronger than any metal on earth."

Valyrian steel = 🍷

"Better to come a beggar than a slaver," Arstan said. "There speaks one who has been neither," Dany's nostrils flared, "Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I... my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid? ... "Only lies offend me, never honest counsel. (...) I have a dragon's temper, that's all.You must not let it frighten you."

It will be interesting to see if there's hints of that further in, her fear vs her temper, and whether there's a slide of the scales from one to the other.

She had taken care never to be alone with Ser Jorah after that, keeping her handmaidens with her aboard ship, and sometimes her bloodriders.

good thinking. throw him over board if need be!

... Irri/Dany has a major power imbalance, yet is still somehow healthier than the rest of her ships thus far.

"- I saw these sons of the harpy today, all their proud highborn warriors. They dress in linen skirts, and the fiercest thing about them was their hair. -"

local cops just rich sons in world's trashiest LARP cosplay, confirmed.

"There was no higher honor than to receive your knighthood from the Prince of Dragonstone." "Tell me, then - when he touched a man on the shoulder with his sword, what did he say? 'Go forth and kill the weak'? Or 'Go forth and defend them'? (...) did they give their lives because they believed in Rhaegar's cause, or because they had been bought and paid for?" (...) "My queen, (...) all you say is true. But Rhaegar lost on the Trident. (...) Rhaegar fought valiantly, Rhaegar fought nobly, Rhaegar fought honorably. And Rhaegar died."

You know, for all it hung over parts of the show, I feel like Rhaegar and Lyanna just didn't haunt the story of the show enough. They're a tragic backstory that gets trotted out for special occasions but mostly gathers dust on the mantle.

Not so, here in the books, where they remain characters even though they've both been dead for over a decade.

Here, we see Jorah using Rhaegar to jostle Dany down the slippery slope of compromise. Dany wants to do the right thing, the good and just and clearly morally correct thing, and she's going to try to find a moral solution she can live with, but there's Jorah at her side reminding her that being a good person* is what got Rhaegar killed. Suggesting the slave army and then continuing to steer her to partake in mass slavery, he just keeps "it's for the greater good"ing this. And if this is acceptable in the name of Dany's greater good, then what else is. If this much is okay, then surely just a bit more is okay, and a bit more is okay, and a bit more until you're miles from where you started and you aren't really sure how you got there but you're in too deep to get out.

*Rhaegar's goodness is debatable and subject to personal perspective. I'd taze him.

"- His blood swirled down the river with the rubies from his breastplate, and Robert the Usurper rode over his corpse t steal the Iron Throne. -"

ruby | rubies = 🍷

#a storm of swords #steel and snow #a song of ice and fire #daenerys targeryan #a chapter a day reading #asos #asoiaf

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter XIII "Yunkai"

Chapter XIV ''Second Sons''

She changed into clean clothes especially for the meeting, not covered in all that sand. It was a white dress that exposed her shoulders and cleavage. Nothing special, the cut was simple, the material was uniform, but the dress benefited from a silver chain fastened at the waist and finally loose hair that fell in waves on her shoulders and back.

Long before she saw her guest, she heard the drumbeats announcing his arrival. Of course, he arrived under a roof, in a litter, after all, he would not expose his skin to the harsh sun like his slaves who carried the litter, beat the drum or carried some chests.

She looked away from it for a moment to look at Maelia, lying in her lap - although by the way she was slowly getting heavy, like the rest of the dragons. Drogon was sitting on the back of the couch next to Viserion, and Rhaegal was also nearby. She turned her gaze back to her guest as Missandei began to introduce him, but she continued to lightly pet Viserion.

"This is the noble Razdal mo Eraz, descendant of an ancient family. A ruler and parliamentarian who brings peace." the presented master wanted to get a little too close and then one of the dragons roared at him. "My Lord, you stand before Visenya of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, and Breaker of Chains, Queen of Astapor."

She didn't know when exactly she obtained her last titles, because she had never declared herself the Queen of Astapor or the Breaker of Chains, but if that was how she was presented, then so be it.

"You may approach. Please, sit." she said, pointing to a chair placed at an appropriate distance from her.

"Would you like some wine, my Lord?" when he agreed, Missandei poured wine into a goblet and handed it to him. He drank some of it and set the chalice aside, at the leg of the chair.

"Yunkai is glorious and ancient." he started. "Our Empire was already old when dragons appeared in Valyria. Many armies crashed against our walls, many rulers were defeated. You won't find easy conquest here."

"The end justifies the means, doesn't it?" she replied, although she didn't think so.

"If you want a battle, you will get a battle. But why? The informations of what happened in Astapor has already spread, but the Yunkai people are not vengeful, but forgiving and generous." she raised an eyebrow slightly, watching the man clap his hands and the slaves carried two crates under the tent. "The Wise Lords of Yunkai have a gift for the Mother of Dragons." and when did I gain this title?

After opening the chests, the slaves withdrew and she looked around at the gold inside. Moreover, the chests themselves were probably quite expensive, decorated with a lot of mother-of-pearl.

"There are many more chests waiting on board your ship."

"My ship?" she repeated, a delicate smile creeping onto her lips.

"Yes, Your Grace. As I said, we are a generous people. We will give you as many ships as you need."

They give her gold, ships... She could go home now. As far as she knows, there is still a war in Westeros, the troops of the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms must be tired of the long conflict. If she came back now, she might even have a chance...

But could she really make that decision? Especially since she had just seen more slaves before her eyes, exhausted, exploited, degraded.

"What do you want in return?" she asked, even though she was already determined that she couldn't give up on Yunkai.

"Only one thing: That you make good use of our gifts. Sail back to Westeros, where you belong and where is your throne. And never interfere with Yunkai affairs again."

On the one hand, she could do it. She could accept the offer now, capture King's Landing, and then return here with - perhaps - greater forces. But would such a plan even have a chance of success? If she managed to capture the capital, she would definitely lose a lot of soldiers and ships. Besides, she would have to hold it and subjugate the Lords of Westeros, she couldn't assume that everyone would submit to her without a word. And eventually she would never come back.

The conclusion was obvious: She couldn't agree.

"I could accept that offer." she said, but after a while she continued. "Provided that you free all the slaves, pay them for their years of work, and never put anyone in chains again."

"Are you mad?"

"If you and the Wise Lords fulfill this condition, you will save your lives. Otherwise... The yellow walls of Yunkai will turn red."

"You're confusing Astapor with Yunkai." she raised an eyebrow, listening to his words. "We have powerful friends who will take great pleasure in destroying you. We will turn those who survive into slaves again. Maybe we'll put you in chains too!" he almost shouted, getting up from the chair.

His eagerness quickly cooled and turned to fear when Maelia, who had been lying peacefully on Visenya's lap all this time, suddenly stood up and bared her fangs at him. Even Vis herself was a bit surprised by this, although she didn't show it.

"You promised safety during the talks." he noticed. He tried to act unfazed, but the fear was clear in his eyes.

"Yes, I did." she admitted, placing her hand on the dragon's back, calming it down. "And you started threatening me. Threaten the Mother of Dragons in the presence of her dragons..." she smiled slightly, almost laughing at his - as she perceived it - stupidity.

"Take the gold." he ordered his people.

The slaves moved to take the chests, but when Maelia escaped from Visenya's grasp on one of them and Drogon jumped on the other, in fear they moved even further away than they had been standing before.

"The gold is mine. You gave it to me, and you don't take gifts away, do you? I will use it well, just as you wished. And you pass on my words to other Wise Masters, and you better think about them carefully. You may leave." she finished talking to him, turning around and extending her hand to Rhaegal, who was now sitting on the couch backrest, and he eagerly immediately jumped onto pillow next to her, hugging to her like a child hugs to its mother. She didn't pay attention to what Razdal was mumbling under his breath as he left the tent.

"The Yunkai are a proud people. They will not bow to threats." she looked up at Ser Barristan as he spoke these words.

"So they will bow to the swords." she replied. She hesitated for a moment before asking the question that was on her mind. "He said they have powerful friends... Who did he mean?"

Barristan and Arthur looked at each other.

"We don't know, Your Grace."

"Then find out."

A few days later, she found out who it was - or at least one of those famous "friends". They were mercenaries, Second Sons. She even saw their camp from a distance, in disguise of course, but still. Of course, mercenaries cannot be trusted, they fight for gold, they don't care about honor.

There were two thousand of them, heavy cavalry. Enough to endanger her. Then she began to consider another option, perhaps returning to the method of solving the matter using what nature had given her - beauty. From what she has noticed, men in Essos are not much different, and maybe even more pushy towards women and less respectful.

And if they had such an attitude, she was sure that the commander of the Second Sons would agree to come and talk to her.

And she was right.

"Your Grace, allow me to present the captains of the Second Sons: Mero of Braavos, Prendahl of Ghezn, and..." Ser Barristan trailed off, the last of the three had to introduce himself.

"Daario Naharis." said the man - quite young for a captain - and simply lowered his head, bowing to her. There was a gentle smile on his lips, perhaps even flirtatious.

She dressed similarly to the meeting with Razdal, except this time her hair was tied up in a bun, leaving her neck exposed, and only two thin strands of hair framed the sides of her face. A single, long necklace flowed down her neckline and ended between her breasts, accenting them.

"Beauty can easily confuse men. You, for example, you are beautiful." That's what Cersei Lannister once told her. And no matter how much they disliked each other, she believed that Cersei was right with that statement.

"You are the Mother of Dragons? The Silver-Haired Queen?" Mero asked, taking two steps forward. "I could have sworn I fucked you once in a pleasure house in Lys. But maybe I'm mistaken because of the hair..."

"Mind your tongue." even though she agreed with Ser Arthur's words, she didn't say it, she just smiled a little goofily, but it looked good.

She could fake it in front of Jaime, so she should be able to fake it now.

"Why?" Mero replied, walking over and sitting on the couch next to her. "I didn't mind hers. She licked my ass like she was born to do it."

It took a lot for her not to punch him in the face when he sat down next to her. She had to put just as much effort into keeping a smile on her face, even if he was ostentatiously staring at her breasts while making ambiguous tongue movements.

"Bring us the wine, slave." he said to Missandei as his friends also sat in the tent.

"She's not a slave. No one is here, we are all free." she finally said something, nodding to her friend to pour them some wine.

"But you won't be after the battle, unless I save you." oh, how noble of you... "If you sit on my lap and move those hips, maybe I'll give you the Second Sons."

Excuse me?

"Give them to me first." she said, reaching for her goblet standing on the low table next to her. "Then maybe I won't have your hand and tongue cut off." she added, sipping some wine and giving him the look she once was giving Jaime. "Ser Barristan, how many men he has?" she put the goblet back on the table so as not to 'accidentally' splash the wine in Mero's face.

"About two thousand, Your Grace."

"I think I have more... How many?" she asked to add to her image of a stupid girl in their eyes.

"Ten thousand, Your Grace."

"That's five times more." she said, and her smile widened for a moment. "I don't know anything about war or battles, I'm no commander, but I can do a little math. Could you, as someone more experienced in this field, explain to me how you plan to defeat me?"

"I hope the old man fights better than he lies." Daario said unexpectedly, catching her attention. "I counted eight thousand Unsullied, and that's how many you have, Your Grace."

"You must be a good warrior to become a captain at such a young age." she answered him, tilting her head slightly.

"He's not a captain, but a lieutenant." Prendahl spoke for the first time in this conversation.

"Eight thousand is still more than two, isn't it? The numbers are on my side."

"The Second Sons have fought many worse battles and won." Mero didn't lose his confidence.

"They also have fought worse battles and run from them." Ser Arthur pointed out. Visenya still smiled while she shortly looked at him, but it was slightly amused gaze, not falsely kind.

She's really like her father - he thought to himself.

"Wouldn't you rather fight for me?" she asked, reaching out to take Mero's mug of wine and drink from it, then extending it back to him.

"We took the gold from Yunkai, so we fight for Yunkai, beautiful girl." he took the cup from her, keeping his fingers on her hand a bit too long for her liking.

Then he held out his hand to Missandei to pour him some wine, but as soon as she came closer and did so, he leaned over and wanted to smell her crotch through her dress. Visenya was so disgusted by this that no matter what came out of this conversation, this man's fate was already sealed.

"A have a lot of gold too, I can pay you as well."

"We made a contract and we will stick to it. Otherwise, no one will hire the Second Sons again." Prendahl, who seemed least susceptible to her charm, explained.

"You won't have to look for employment anywhere else if you decide to come with me. When I take the throne of Westeros, you will have gold, castles and titles, you will lack nothing in your life. Even women." she added the last words, looking at Mero.

"You have no ships, no siege machines, no cavalry. How are you going to conquer the Seven Kingdoms or even get there?" Daario asked her.

And it was actually a very good question to which she had no answer prepared. To buy ships you need gold, and she doesn't have enough to buy as many ships as she needs. And even if she did, she wouldn't have any gold left for anything else. As for the other two things... There was still a long way to go for that too.

"If you join me, I'll already have a cavalry. And buying the other two is not a problem." she lied. "Just recently, I had neither an army nor gold. No dragons either, and now I have four of them." she turned back to Mero. "Think about it and give me an answer. You have one day."

"You know what..." He straightened up a little and leaned towards her, then placing his hand on her thigh and squeezing it lightly. "Show me your cunt, I have to see if there's anything worth fighting for."

"Dāria, gaomagon jaelā nyke naejot nektogon hen zȳhon ondos?" Grey Worm asked, and her smile widened slightly.

*"My Queen, do you want me to cut off his hand?"*

"Daor, issa ñuha intrōsi tolī mirre..." she stopped for a moment. "Yn lo ziry sylugon ziry arlī, iksā dāez naejot gaomagon sīr." she finished, looking at Mero, without any sweetness in her eyes or smile.

*"No, he's my guest after all... But if he tries to do that again, you have a free hand."*

"Take a jug of my wine, maybe it will clear your mind a little." she added.

"Should I drink alone? What about my brothers?"

"Then take the whole barrel. Drink to your health."

"Perfect." he finally removed his hand from her thigh, rising from the couch, then his friends also got up from their seats. "The Titan's bastard doesn't drink alone." he's more of a bastard than a titan... - she thought to herself, following him with her eyes as they slowly left the tent. "In the Second Sons we share everything, including women. After the battle, we will be happy to share  you."

She almost burst into laughter at these words, but only let out a quiet snort, which was well covered by a smile.

"I'll find you when it's all over." Leaving he said to Missandei and as if it was normal, he slapped her buttocks.

"Ser Arthur..." Visenya began, finally leaning back on the backrest of the couch and crossing her legs. "I don't care if there's a battle or not, I want his head."

She had only spent a few minutes with Mero and she had already grown to hate him. She thought Joffrey was a bad case and he was the one she had problems with because he targeted her for his sick games and she had no one on her side, but this man was just as good as getting on her nerves. He thought of himself as irresistible, who had every woman he wanted... But in reality, only those he paid wanted him.

How dare he touch her like that? How could he shamelessly look at her breasts and try to look closer to see if the neckline of her dress would reveal at least a bit of her breasts? What right did he have to just hit Missandei like that? She never wanted to see him again. She was disgusted by the way she behaved, trying to win something, and in the end she felt that she had gained nothing by showing off her beauty and pretending to be a stupid girl.

"I'll be happy to give it to you, Your Grace." Ser Arthur replied, glancing at how Visenya held her hand where Mero had grabbed her thigh and crumpled the fabric in her hands as if to get rid of any trace of his hand.

He'll actually be glad to cut off his head when the opportunity arises. ~

-> Chapter XV "Mother" -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist

#arthur dayne #game of thones fanfiction #game of thrones #daario naharis #fanfiction #ser arthur dayne #barristan selmy

[tru-neutral03]

I was strong armed by a friend of mine to watch House of the Dragon. If you guys don't know I loathe the eighth season of Game of Thrones especially when it came to the storylines of some of my favorite characters (Dany, Jon, Arya, Missandei). So this was a very tough decisuon for me personally to make. Eventually I bit the bullet I started to keep up with the series when episode three (Second of his Name) came out. I waited until now to form an overall opinion since the season is almost over.

First off, the casting has been great so far. Eve Best as Rhaenys the Queen Who Never Was is by far my favorite (should've kept her black and silver streaked hair though). I've been a fan of Matt Smith since his performance as Prince Philip in the Crown and so far he's been the highlight of all of the scenes he's been in. The casting for the young and elder Rhaenyra and Alicent is out of the park, it's almost freaky how they look alike. Viserys and Otto were perfectly cast as well.

Secondly, the changes they made from Fire and Blood. The age gap between Rhaenyra and Alicent is non-existant now which I guess isn't a big deal but I wish we could've seen Alicent go from older sister type to evil stepmother. Laenor being alive will lead to a huge problem down the line when the dragonseeds come into the fold unless they kill him off later. Helaena having dragon dreams is a good touch, especially since it's implied that her dreams have traumatized her. Laena's death should've been unchanged in my opinion it seemed to me that it was graphic for the sake of being graphic. Lastly, the big one is Aegon the Conqueror's prophecy, "The Song of Ice and Fire", it felt like a stab to the heart when Viserys revealed it knowing how far off it would be from the actual thing. GRRM alluded to Aegon knowing about the Others united Westeros so that they would be better prepared for the Long Night so this may refer more to the books than season 8. The only upside of it was the little hint of Breaker of Chains playing in the middle of it. My biggest worry is that the various small changes they make will have a ripple affect like they did in GOT and screw it up in the end.

Lastly, I have to talk about the designs. The costumes are way better than they were in Game of Thrones (the only ones that could compare are Dany and Margaery's wardrobe.) Dragonstone looks way better, the mist, the Dragonmont FINALLY being seen, it feels like a dreary, mysterious volcanic island. The Iron Throne looks way more intimidating and looks like a good halfway point between the books and the show. The dragons look amazing, they look menacing, beautiful and vibrant. I love Dany's boys but the designers back then didn't capture the true beauty of the dragons like they do now. I love Caraxes' long and slender design as well as Vhagar's larger than life presence.

The writing is better than season 8 by far but that¹ isn't saying much, it's on par with early GOT in some aspects. I feel the constant time jumps have their ups and downs. We didn't get to see Rhaenyra's relationship with Harwin Strong or Daemon's with Laena. We never got to see Laena bond with Vhagar, or any of the green (aside from Aemond) claim their dragons either. I feel having two or three more episodes would've helped keep things more tightly knit between time skips. The Crabfeeder was a cool early villain to root against and for the dragons to show off their power. Above all I think the family drama is the most prominent and best aspect of the show.

A solid 8/10.

Too bad we know what happens to the last Targaryen (I'm talking about Daenerys not. . .the other one)

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #a song of ice and fire #daenerys targaryen #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenys the queen who never was #alicent hightower

[brilliancetheory]

How did Daenerys continue to braid her hair that intricately by herself once Missandei died

#game of thrones #daenerys targaryen #missandei #like didn't missandei do her hair for her #I can't do a french braid on my own head because I can't see what I'm doing #how the hell did daenerys keep creating that complicated web of braids without missandei's help

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ASOS: Daenerys III (Chapter 27)

She had chosen a Qartheen gown today. The deep violet silk brought out the purple of her eyes. The cut of it bared her left breast.

Day one, she's dressed in a Qartheen gown.

+.+.+

So as not to seem a beggar, Dany had brought her own attendants; Irri and Jhiqui in their sandsilk trousers and painted vests, old Whitebeard and mighty Belwas, her bloodriders.

Love how preoccupied she is over not seeming like a beggar.

+.+.+

Ser Jorah stood behind her sweltering in his green surcoat with the black bear of Mormont embroidered upon it. The smell of his sweat was an earthy answer to the sweet perfumes that drenched the Astapori.

Day one, he's wearing a surcoat.

I'm not touching the sweaty earthly answer.

+.+.+

Dany let them argue, sipping the tart persimmon wine and trying to keep her face blank and ignorant. I will have them all, no matter the price, she told herself.

Keep in mind Daenerys has already decided she's not paying for them, so the price she's referring to is the blood and carnage.

+.+.+

The bricks of Astapor are red with the blood of the slaves who make them. - Daenerys II, ASOS

x

Brick and blood built Astapor, and brick and blood her people.

I continue to be sickened by the Old Empire of Ghis. These cruel red and black-haired slavers, who build red-brick cities with the blood of their people... awful.

And above it all, frowning down from Aegon's high hill, was the Red Keep; seven huge drum-towers crowned with iron ramparts, an immense grim barbican, vaulted halls and covered bridges, barracks and dungeons and granaries, massive curtain walls studded with archers' nests, all fashioned of pale red stone. Aegon the Conqueror had commanded it built. His son Maegor the Cruel had seen it completed. Afterward he had taken the heads of every stonemason, woodworker, and builder who had labored on it. Only the blood of the dragon would ever know the secrets of the fortress the Dragonlords had built, he vowed. - Catelyn IV, AGOT

+.+.+

Dany waited for his words to be translated. "My crown is not for sale." When Viserys sold their mother's crown, the last joy had gone from him, leaving only rage.

I love that she already has a crown. What are you even queen of right now?

+.+.+

Two thousand would never serve for what she meant to do. I must have them all. Dany knew what she must do now, though the taste of it was so bitter that even the persimmon wine could not cleanse it from her month. She had considered long and hard and found no other way. It is my only choice. "Give me all," she said, "and you may have a dragon."

+.+.+

Whitebeard stared in shocked disbelief. His hand trembled where it grasped the staff. "No." He went to one knee before her. "Your Grace, I beg you, win your throne with dragons, not slaves. You must not do this thing—"

Please don't use slaves, scorch the land and the people instead.

+.+.+

"Yet even queens can err. The Astapori have cheated you, Your Grace. A dragon is worth more than any army. Aegon proved that three hundred years ago, upon the Field of Fire."

"I know what Aegon proved. I mean to prove a few things of my own."

+.+.+

"Missandei is no longer a slave. I free you, from this instant. Come ride with me in the litter, I wish to talk."

[...]

"If you stay with me you will serve as one of my handmaids," she said as they set off. "I shall keep you by my side to speak for me as you spoke for Kraznys. But you may leave my service whenever you choose, if you have father or mother you would sooner return to."

"This one will stay," the girl said. "This one . . . I . . . there is no place for me to go. This . . . I will serve you, gladly."

Perfect. I'm so happy for her. She's free! Everyone come look at how free she is.

+.+.+

"I can give you freedom, but not safety," Dany warned. "I have a world to cross and wars to fight. You may go hungry. You may grow sick. You may be killed."

I don't think she dies, but I really didn't enjoy reading this.

+.+.+

"Valar morghulis," said Missandei, in High Valyrian.

"All men must die," Dany agreed, "but not for a long while, we may pray."

Woah, is that what that means? Not surprised we're finally given the definition in your chapter, given those words keep following you around.

+.+.+

"You serve me now. Is it true they feel no pain?"

"The wine of courage kills such feelings. By the time they slay their sucklings, they have been drinking it for years."

Why are we revisiting this? Is this going somewhere? I swear they don't drink it anymore.

+.+.+

"When I have won my war and claimed the throne that was my father's, my knights will sheathe their swords and return to their keeps, to their wives and children and mothers . . . to their lives. But these eunuchs have no lives. What am I to do with eight thousand eunuchs when there are no more battles to be fought?"

An easy solution to that is to never be done fighting battles.

+.+.+

"If I did resell them, how would I know they could not be used against me?" Dany asked pointedly. "Would they do that? Fight against me, even do me harm?"

"If their master commanded. They do not question, Your Grace. All the questions have been culled from them. They obey."

This looks like more paranoia, but she's making sure the Unsullied will follow her orders once the deal is complete.

+.+.+

The girl lowered her eyes. "Three of them were my brothers once, Your Grace."

I see potential!

But you may leave my service whenever you choose, if you have father or mother you would sooner return to. - Daenerys III, ASOS

x

"Eight thousand fully trained and available at present. We sell them only by the unit, she should know. By the thousand or the century. Once we sold by the ten, as household guards, but that proved unsound. Ten is too few. They mingle with other slaves, even freemen, and forget who and what they are." - Daenerys II, ASOS

One brother left.

+.+.+

"I was alone for a long time, Jorah. All alone but for my brother. I was such a small scared thing. Viserys should have protected me, but instead he hurt me and scared me worse. He shouldn't have done that. He wasn't just my brother, he was my king. Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?"

"Some kings make themselves. Robert did."

"He was no true king," Dany said scornfully. "He did no justice. Justice . . . that's what kings are for."

Ser Jorah had no answer. He only smiled, and touched her hair, so lightly. It was enough.

Careful with that word, it can make you justify appalling things.

But if truth be told, I would sooner have my daughters back, and leave justice to the gods. - Catelyn III, ACOK

+.+.+

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper's rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. Some small part of her knew that she was dreaming, but another part exulted. This is how it was meant to be. The other was a nightmare, and I have only now awakened.

I've been around long enough to know which rebel host that is.

Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. "Snow," an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard and a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as she'd appeared. - Jon XII, ADWD

+.+.+

She woke suddenly in the darkness of her cabin, still flush with triumph. Balerion seemed to wake with her, and she heard the faint creak of wood, water lapping against the hull, a football on the deck above her head. And something else.

Someone was in the cabin with her.

Okkkayyyy. Hold, please.

Daenerys dreams of a great "victory" on the Trident ->

Did you teach him wisdom as well as valor, Ned? she wondered. Did you teach him how to kneel? The graveyards of the Seven Kingdoms were full of brave men who had never learned that lesson. - Catelyn IX, AGOT

x

"Torrhen had brought his power south after the fall of the two kings on the Field of Fire," said Jaime, "but when he saw Aegon's dragon and the size of his host, he chose the path of wisdom and bent his frozen knees." - Jaime II, ASOS

-> Wakes up from that dream, hears noise all around her, then realizes someone else is in the cabin with her?

Bwahahahahaha.

+.+.+

"Irri? Jhiqui? Where are you?" Her handmaids did not respond. It was too black to see, but she could hear them breathing. "Jorah, is that you?"

"They sleep," a woman said. "They all sleep." The voice was very close. "Even dragons must sleep."

LMAO.

Quaithe is a troll!

+.+.+

She is standing over me. "Who's there?" Dany peered into the darkness. She thought she could see a shadow, the faintest outline of a shape. "What do you want to me?"

"Remember. To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow."

Not a girl standing in the room undetected! Not darkness! Not a shadow! Not Quaithe baiting you with those words again!

Her fingers brushed against rough unfinished stone to her left. She followed the wall, her hand skimming along the surface, taking small gliding steps through the darkness. All halls lead somewhere.

[...]

Her footsteps sent soft echoes hurrying ahead of her as Arya plunged deeper into the darkness. - Arya IV, AGOT

x

Quiet as a shadow, she heard. Was it her own voice, or Syrio's? She could not tell, yet somehow it calmed her fears. - Arya IV, AGOT

+.+.+

"Khaleesi?" murmured Jhiqui, rubbing her eyes. Viserion woke and opened his jaws, and a puff of flame brightened even the darkest corners. There was no sign of a woman in a red lacquer mask. "Khaleesi, are you unwell?" asked Jhiqui.

"A dream." Dany shook her head. "I dreamed a dream, no more. Go back to sleep. All of us, go back to sleep." Yet try as she might, sleep would not come again.

That was no dream, that was your nightmare come true.

+.+.+

If I look back I am lost, Dany told herself the next morning as she entered Astapor through the harbor gates.

Some people live and learn, and then there's Daenerys.

+.+.+

Today she rode her silver, clad in horsehair pants and painted leather vest, a bronze medallion belt about her waist and two more crossed between her breasts.

On day two, she's dressed like a Dothraki.

Like a Dothraki.

+.+.+

Slaves and servants lined the ways, while the slavers and their women donned their tokars to look down from their stepped pyramids. They are not so different from Qartheen after all, she thought. They want a glimpse of dragons to tell their children of, and their children's children. It made her wonder how many of them would ever have children.

What a totally deranged thing to think right before.

+.+.+

Ser Jorah Mormont was behind in mail and surcoat, glowering at anyone who came too near.

On day two, he's in mail.

Red Wedding vibes.

+.+.+

Rhaegal could sense something wrong as well. Thrice he tried to take wing, only to be pulled down by the heavy chain in Jhiqui's hand.

Oh I have no doubt Rhaegal immediately sensed something was amiss, and tried to leave. That seems just like Rhaegal. Too bad he was chained.

<- Jon III, ASOS

I should have tried to kill Mance Rayder on the Fist, even if it meant my life. That was what Qhorin Halfhand would have done. But Jon had hesitated, and the chance passed. The next day he had ridden off with Styr the Magnar, Jarl, and more than a hundred picked Thenns and raiders. He told himself that he was only biding his time, that when the moment came he would slip away and ride for Castle Black. The moment never came.

+.+.+

I ought to have a banner sewn, she thought as she led her tattered band up along Astapor's meandering river. She closed her eyes to imagine how it would look: all flowing black silk, and on it the red three-headed dragon of Targaryen, breathing golden flames. A banner such as Rhaegar might have borne.

Lol, you like banners, eh? How about on masts?

+.+.+

While the payment was being made, Kraznys mo Nakloz favored her with a few final words on the handling of her troops. "They are green as yet," he said through Missandei. "Tell the whore of Westeros she would be wise to blood them early. There are many small cities between here and there, cities ripe for sacking. Whatever plunder she takes will be hers alone.

I'll take 'Things You'll Immediately Regret Saying' for $1000, Alex.

+.+.+

Dany handed the slaver the end of Drogon's chain. In return he presented her with the whip. The handle was black dragonbone, elaborately carved and inlaid with gold. Nine long thin leather lashes trailed from it, each one tipped by a gilded claw. The gold pommel was a woman's head, with pointed ivory teeth. "The harpy's fingers," Kraznys named the scourge.

Is there anything funnier than the description of this whip?

+.+.+

Dany mounted her silver. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She felt desperately afraid. Was this what my brother would have done? She wondered if Prince Rhaegar had been this anxious when he saw the Usurper's host formed up across the Trident with all their banners floating on the wind.

So much Trident in this chapter! So much build up to confrontation and war. So much hatred and animosity. So much blood thirst!

I don't see love, devotion, or admiration. Not even the fake kind.

+.+.+

"IT IS DONE!" she cried at the top of her lungs. "YOU ARE MINE!" She gave the mare her heels and galloped along the first rank, holding the fingers high. "YOU ARE THE DRAGON'S NOW! YOU'RE BOUGHT AND PAID FOR! IT IS DONE! IT IS DONE!"

They sure are!

And after them came her handmaids, and then the others, all the Dothraki, men and women and children, and Dany had only to look at their eyes to know that they were hers now, today and tomorrow and forever, hers as they had never been Drogo’s. - Daenerys X, AGOT

+.+.+

It is time to cross the Trident, Dany thought, as she wheeled and rode her silver back.

~Trident!~

+.+.+

Kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. The harpy's fingers had torn his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. "Drogon," she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. "Dracarys."

I don't doubt it.

(Sang!)

+.+.+

A lance of swirling dark flame took Kraznys full in the face. His eyes melted and ran down his cheeks, and the oil in his hair and beard burst so fiercely into fire that for an instant the slaver wore a burning crown twice as tall as his head. The sudden stench of charred meat overwhelmed even his perfume, and his wail seemed to drown all other sound.

That's gruesome for a reason.

+.+.+

"Unsullied!" Dany galloped before them, her silver-gold braid flying behind her, her bell chiming with every stride. "Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip,

Amusing little moment here, that can't be a mistake. Two paragraphs earlier, the author reminds the reader who else is holding a whip.

A Dothraki slaver.

One man kept his saddle long enough to draw a sword, but Jhogo's whip coiled about his neck and cut off his shout.

+.+.+

but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see.

If someone was wondering if George might approve of this, he's already given the answer.

"The blood of children?" Robb pointed at the corpses. "How old were they? Twelve, thirteen? Squires." - Catelyn III, ASOS

+.+.+

"Freedom!" she sang out. "Dracarys! Dracarys!"

"Dracarys!" they shouted back, the sweetest word she'd ever heard. "Dracarys! Dracarys!" And all around them slavers ran and sobbed and begged and died, and the dusty air was filled with spears and fire.

Of course dragonfire is her favourite word.

(Sang!)

Final thoughts:

Did you know if you killed every single world leader, all the problems of the world would cease to exist?

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #asos #daenerys iii

[daenerys-targaryen-moved]

viserys manipulated and abused book!dany and show!dany so either way he deserved his fate and the fact that she still named HER DRAGON after him and said ''he will do what my brother could not'' like..........how is that madness??? she had every right to say ''fuck you viserys i will never mourn for you or think of you again'' but she didn't because she is so compassionate and forgiving. she could've let the world forget him. i love dany so sorry for this ramble

She definitely mourned him. 

Here is the scene you’re talking about in A Clash of Kings

Dany hungered and thirsted with the rest of them. The milk in her breasts dried up, her nipples cracked and bled, and the flesh fell away from her day by day until she was lean and hard as a stick, yet it was her dragons she feared for. Her father had been slain before she was born, and her splendid brother Rhaegar as well. Her mother had died bringing her into the world while the storm screamed outside. Gentle Ser Willem Darry, who must have loved her after a fashion, had been taken by a wasting sickness when she was very young. Her brother Viserys, Khal Drogo who was her sun-and-stars, even her unborn son, the gods had claimed them all. They will not have my dragons, Dany vowed. They will not.

[....]   

“Aegon’s dragons were named for the gods of Old Valyria,” she told her bloodriders one morning after a long night’s journey. “Visenya’s dragon was Vhagar, Rhaenys had Meraxes, and Aegon rode Balerion, the Black Dread. It was said that Vhagar’s breath was so hot that it could melt a knight’s armor and cook the man inside, that Meraxes swallowed horses whole, and Balerion . . . his fire was as black as his scales, his wings so vast that whole towns were swallowed up in their shadow when he passed overhead.” The Dothraki looked at her hatchlings uneasily. The largest of her three was shiny black, his scales slashed with streaks of vivid scarlet to match his wings and horns. “Khaleesi,” Aggo murmured, “there sits Balerion, come again.” “It may be as you say, blood of my blood,” Dany replied gravely, “but he shall have a new name for this new life. I would name them all for those the gods have taken. The green 102 one shall be Rhaegal, for my valiant brother who died on the green banks of the Trident. The cream-and-gold I call Viserion. Viserys was cruel and weak and frightened, yet he was my brother still. His dragon will do what he could not.” - Daenerys ACOK

“We should rest here until we are stronger,” the knight urged. “The red lands are not kind to the weak.”

“My handmaids say there are ghosts here.”

“There are ghosts everywhere,” Ser Jorah said softly. “We carry them with us wherever we go.”

Yes, she thought. Viserys, Khal Drogo, my son Rhaego, they are with me always.

Viserys’ name is mentioned a total of 23 times in A Clash of Kings, 41 times in A Storm of Swords, 6 times in A Feast for Crows, and 29 times in A Dance with Dragons. More times that not, it’s Daenerys remembering when he was a good brother to her, when he would tell her stories or when they would sneak out in the dead of night, or when she’s thinking about how he died, or when she’s thinking about how he would react to certain situations. Here is a converstaion between Tyrion and Illyrio;

The fat man grew pensive. “Daenerys was half a child when she came to me, yet fairer even than my second wife, so lovely I was tempted to claim her for myself. Such a fearful, furtive thing, however, I knew I should get no joy from coupling with her. Instead I summoned a bedwarmer and fucked her vigorously until the madness passed. If truth be told, I did not think Daenerys would survive for long amongst the horselords.”

“That did not stop you selling her to Khal Drogo …”

“Dothraki neither buy nor sell. Say rather that her brother Viserys gave her to Drogo to win the khal’s friendship. A vain young man, and greedy. Viserys lusted for his father’s throne, but he lusted for Daenerys too, and was loath to give her up. The night before the princess wed he tried to steal into her bed, insisting that if he could not have her hand, he would claim her maidenhead. Had I not taken the precaution of posting guards upon her door, Viserys might have undone years of planning.”

“He sounds an utter fool.”

“Viserys was Mad Aerys’s son, just so. Daenerys … Daenerys is quite different.” He popped a roasted lark into his mouth and crunched it noisily, bones and all. “The frightened child who sheltered in my manse died on the Dothraki sea, and was reborn in blood and fire. 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. Mantarys will be next, if she marches west along the old Valyrian roads. If she comes by sea, well … her fleet must take on food and water at Volantis.” - Tyrion ADwD

The floppy ears she chose today were made of sheer white linen, with a fringe of golden tassels. 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. Some Aegon, but which one? Five Aegons had ruled the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. There would have been a sixth, but the Usurper’s dogs had murdered her brother’s son when he was still a babe at the breast. If he had lived, I might have married him. Aegon would have been closer to my age than Viserys. 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. - Daenerys AdWd

Daario shrugged. “Most queens have no purpose but to warm some king’s bed and pop out sons for him. If that’s the sort of queen you mean to be, best marry Hizdahr.”

Her anger flashed. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“No. Have you?” Viserys would have his head off for that insolence.

Dany wrapped her arms about the girl. “Tell me of him.”

“He taught me how to climb a tree when we were little. He could catch fish with his hands. Once I found him sleeping in our garden with a hundred butterflies crawling over him. He looked so beautiful that morning, this one … I mean, I loved him.”

“As he loved you.” Dany stroked the girl’s hair. “Say the word, my sweet, and I will send you from this awful place. I will find a ship somehow and send you home. To Naath.”

“I would sooner stay with you. On Naath I’d be afraid. What if the slavers came again? I feel safe when I’m with you.”

Safe. The word made Dany’s eyes fill up with tears. “I want to keep you safe.” Missandei was only a child. With her, she felt as if she could be a child too. “No one ever kept me safe when I was little. Well, Ser Willem did, but then he died, and Viserys … I want to protect you but … it is so hard. To be strong. I don’t always know what I should do. I must know, though. I am all they have. I am the queen … the … the …”

“… mother,” whispered Missandei.

“Mother to dragons.” Dany shivered.

“No. Mother to us all.” Missandei hugged her tighter.

Here is another scene that I find particularly interesting from the books;

She dreamt of her dead brother.

Viserys looked just as he had the last time she’d seen him. His mouth was twisted in anguish, his hair was burnt, and his face was black and smoking where the molten gold had run down across his brow and cheeks and into his eyes.

“You are dead,” Dany said.

“Murdered.” Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear.

“You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned. “I loved you once.” Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. “You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you. I sold our mother’s crown to keep you fed.”

“You hurt me. You frightened me.”

“Only when you woke the dragon. I loved you.”

“You sold me. You betrayed me.”

“No. You were the betrayer. You turned against me, against your own blood. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this.” He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger.

“You could have had your crown,” Dany told him. “My sun-and-stars would have won it for you if only you had waited.”

“I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. I was their king, their rightful king. They laughed at me.”

“You should have stayed in Pentos with Magister Illyrio. Khal Drogo had to present me to the dosh khaleen, but you did not have to ride with us. That was your choice. Your mistake.”

“Do you want to wake the dragon, you stupid little whore? Drogo’s khalasar was mine. I bought them from him, a hundred thousand screamers. I paid for them with your maidenhead.”

“You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited …”

“I did wait. For my crown, for my throne, for you. All those years, and all I ever got was a pot of molten gold. Why did they give the dragon’s eggs to you? They should have been mine. If I’d had a dragon, I would have taught the world the meaning of our words.” Viserys began to laugh, until his jaw fell away from his face, smoking, and blood and molten gold ran from his mouth. - Daenerys ADwD

It’s very safe to say that Daenerys mourned Viserys. She mourned the relationship they had as children, she mourned the potential future he would have had with her if he’d lived. Throughout her journey so far, she thinks back to those she’s lost, she thinks back to how it felt to be treated by him, abused emotionally, physically and psychologically, someone who would have raped her had he gotten the chance, someone who looked her in the eyes and told her that he would happily let thousands of men (and their horses) fuck her if it got him his crown. She thinks back to what he was to her, not a sister, but a piece of property, a bargaining chip to be sold off to the highest bidder.

She mourns him, but she mourns him because she loved what they once had and because he was her last family in the world (so she thinks). She could have let the world forget him, but she didn’t. She named her dragon after him, her fucking dragon. She loved him. She mourned him. But her showing no emotion when he died wasn’t a sign of “madness” lmao.

#leah has mail #Anonymous #viserys targaryen #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf #asoiaf meta

[magalidragon]

sugar & spice | a Jonerys drabble

Zero idea where this came from maybe I’ve been bingeing Chef’s Table too much lol. It is for an Enemies-to-Lovers prompt: “This seems like such a bad decision, but I just can't help it.” Enjoy or rather…bon appétit!

"Table five is asking for a modification to the steak...again."

Poor Irri, one of her best servers who had been with the restaurant since the beginning, and who had the patience of a saint, looked equally angry, frustrated, and also apologetic as she appeared again on the other side of the kitchen's shelving unit, where warmers kept dishes from getting too cool as they awaiting final plating.

Dany —executive chef, founder, and all around boss-ass-bitch of King's Landing's hottest restaurant Dracarys— glared at Irri. She whipped off her white chef towel, slapping it angrily on the counter, and jammed her hands on the edge. "What now?" she growled.

"She would like the chef to know that the tomatoes should be on the side, not on top of the steak, and in lieu of the asparagus she wants broccoli."

The broccoli was garbage at the market that morning, which was why Dany had substituted asparagus as the side for her famous Steak Dothrak dish. Her nostrils flared, smoke curling. "Well who does this little miss priss think she is?"

"She's from the North, that's all I got from her accent."

"Missandei!" Dany bellowed, for her co-founder who did the rounds throughout the evenings, taking over for a lot of the smiling, the shaking hands, and general pleasantries of owning the restaurant, while Dany stood to the side glaring and snapping at any one who dared to question her aesthetics or worst of all— her food.

Appearing like a wispy fairy, her best friend in the universe smiled serenely at her, placing her hands delicately atop her shoulders. "I'll take care of it, I've already discussed it with her..."

"I don't want to hear it. If you already discussed the modifications with her, then I am not going to take this any more." It was her restaurant and she didn't need to take this shit. She grabbed the dish and sprinkled the tomato garnish atop the steak— which had to be cooked exactly to this woman's specifications— plating it perfectly the way it was intended.

Steak Dothrak was her idea, a combination of spices and cooking styles she'd learned from the Dothraki and it was the most requested dish at her restaurant. She marched out of the kitchen and into her dining room, scanning for table five.

It was one of the tables in the middle— a coveted spot that required weeks of advance notice to get— with gorgeous views of the Blackwater Bay on one window and the lit up Dragonpit in the other. She forced a smile on her lips, as painful as it was, and slowly made her way to the table. It consisted of four people, a redheaded female, a dark-haired young woman, a man who looked like he was built like a bull with a buzzcut, and another man who was dressed all in black and had dark curly hair tugged into a manbun.

She knew instantly it was the redhead who had demanded the changes. "Steak Dothrak?" she cooed, coming to her side.

The woman shot her a dark look. "I ordered that."

"Well here you go." She set it down in front of her and beamed. "Served by the chef herself. I always love meeting customers who think they know more about food than I do, as the one who invented this particular dish. Tell me, is there anything else I can get you this evening? Perhaps some more wine? Maybe a new set of taste buds?"

The woman's jaw dropped. "How...how..." she sputtered.

Dany grinned, an audience watching her now. "No words now that you can say it to me and not my poor server?" She scanned the rest of the table; the dark-haired woman and the buzz-cut guy were stifling laughs behind their hands, while the other man sat quietly, an enigmatic look on his pale, thin face. She squinted at him; he looked familiar and she couldn't be sure why. "If you have anything else you'd like to change on your order tell me now while I'm here."

The woman sputtered, trying to regain the upper hand, her Northern accent thickening with her anger, blue eyes flashing. "This is not what I ordered, I'm not paying for it!"

"Then leave." Dany waved at the door. "The exit is right there and I can assure you, I do not need your money, as you can clearly see, I have people lining up outside the door for my food and they have taste." She smiled at the rest of the table, until she got to the man in black, who was now eyeing her oddly, his finger resting over his upper lip, the rest of his fingers tucked under his chin. He had a dark beard that swathed his jaw and she wondered what he was thinking, as he clearly wasn't belying any other emotion.

She cleared her throat again and shrugged. "Your meals will be out shortly. On the house, of course." The wine they were drinking at their meal startled her. It was one of the most expensive vintages they had in store. Not many would know to order it. Unless they knew food. Odd.

Backing away, she ignored the applause she received from the rest of the restaurant, and appeared back at her station in the kitchen, barking to the rest of the staff. "Let's go! We've got people to feed!" She snatched the slip from the roller track, eyeing the rest of the dishes. The Summer Sea bass, excellent choice, she mused and the appropriate wine for it. The tuna, also a good choice, and then there was her experiment. The Volantene tasting menu.

She pursed her lips and frowned a moment, before she shoved the slip back up into the runner, taking a plate passed towards her and began the finishing touches that made it hers, while her mind raced. The Volantene tasting menu was not publicized and it was only being put on that weekend, so she could see how it played before she decided to put it as a permanent option.

Irri appeared to take another plate and she glanced up. "Who ordered the tasting menu?" she asked.

"The man in black."

"Huh."

"He knew exactly what he wanted, he didn't even look at the options."

Dracarys was becoming so well known, she knew some people already knew exactly what they wanted when they got a table. She was getting to a point where Missandei and her would need to decide if they became exclusive, only doing tasting menus and opening to select numbers each night.

"And he knew the wine too," she murmured, again, not a big deal.

"That he did."

She ran her tongue over her teeth. "It was the wrong wine for the steak."

"I got the sense he didn't care much for that woman. They aren't a couple, more like siblings I think."

Dany nodded and pursed her lips, returning to her platings. She pushed forward the main course for the tasting menu with the other two dishes for table five, and stared at it a second. "Missy," she exclaimed, seeing her friend out of the corner of her eye, on the way to the stairs leading to their offices. "Table five."

"You probably shouldn't have done that, but I know when your dragon temper gets going, there's no stopping." Missandei scrolled through her phone. "The Raven squawks are in your favor."

"That's not it, table five, can you check something for me?"

"Sure, what is it?"

She pursed her lips and thought a moment and took a deep breath. “When he eats, watch how many bites he takes and count the seconds.”

Missandei’s brows lifted, understanding. “You think he’s a…”

“Just see. Maybe I’m wrong.”

She was never wrong.

—-

That sly, sneaky, son of a bitch.

Dany waited for them to pay, she waited for them to get their coats from coat check, and she waited until they were outside, before she marched straight from the kitchen and out onto the cool King's Landing winter street, shouting. "You!"

The couple who were at the table turned, as they waited for their valet. "What's up?" the young woman laughed. "Dinner was amazing by the way, I have been dying to get in and see what all the fuss was about, and totally worth it, right Gendry?"

"Hmm, it was really good." The man, Gendry, smiled politely. "And you put Sansa in her place, that's always a good evening for us."

"Oh my gods, totally, she was furious, do you know how much you went up in my book? I'm totally telling every single person I know, I already Raven squawked it, and I gave you five stars on Roar and Searcheros, we're coming back." The young woman grinned. "What's up?"

Dany was thrown off guard by her cheerful demeanor. "Ah...the other one who was with you?"

The woman's eyes darkened and she ducked her head. "Uh, aye...."

So she knew. She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest, her black chef's coat with the red flames of a dragon along the sleeves pulling taut. "Where is he?"

"You didn't see him? He was talking to your partner, the other woman? He wanted to speak to the chef."

Of course he did. She stepped backwards. "Well...alright."

The woman grinned. "I'm Arya Stark, by the way, and you are my favorite person, don't let my evil sister keep me from getting another table here again."

"We can't pick our families, so of course not." She smiled politely. "Good evening to you both."

"Night!"

Dany went back into the restaurant, her cheeks warm, only momentarily chagrined until she got into the kitchen, where Missandei was standing with the man in black, who had on a black pea coat, the collar turned up. He looked like he was off to solve some sort of Victorian-era crime. Or go start an emo rock band.

Missy tried to cut her off, but her temper was on fire— had been all night since the debacle with this Sansa woman and her insane demands— so she flew at the man, raging. "You!"

"Me," he said, dry. The first words she'd heard him utter all evening and it sent her toes curling in her Crocs. He smiled, long and slow, hands in his pockets, and she hated ohw her skin pebbled, burning, and her throat closed up. He quirked his eyebrow. "Your Volantene tasting menu was extraordinary. Interesting take on the use of the saffron with the citrus, I was expecting the saffron to overpower, but it was still light. Not to mention the unique plating, resembling the Red Pyramid, yes?"

"Yes," she murmured.

He chuckled and pulled his right hand free, flicking a card towards her. “This seems like such a bad decision, but I just can't help it." He edged towards her, murmuring into her ear. "Give me a call, after you close."

She fired back, trying to maintain the upper hand. "I don't leave the premises until one in the morning and then I'm awake at five to get to the market and docks." She gave herself a few hours in the afternoon to nap and catch up, before she was working again. It wasn't ideal, but it worked for her.

He shrugged again. "Fine by me. I'll be awake...writing."

Bloody arsehole. She unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth, almost spitting at him. "You are something else."

"That's the nicest thing a chef has ever said to me." He slid by her. "Good evening Chef Targaryen." He tilted his head to Missandei. "Ms. Naath."

Dany could not breathe, could not see straight, it was all red and cross-eyed.

Missandei cackled, slapping her shoulder with her portfolio. "Oh girl, you better call him or I'll do it for you."

She growled again and stormed to her station, crumpling his card up in her hand.

Never, bloody, ever.

—-

The last person to leave, Missadnei already headed home to her adorable husband and their adopted baby boy, Dany locked up behind her, tossing her keys in the air, her feet swollen and achy, her back kind of hurting, and her skin still aflame from the encounter with the Man in Black.

Jon Snow

She turned the corner and froze, stopped in place by the sight of the Man in Black leaning against her SUV. It was battered and rusty, something she should have traded in ages ago, but it got her through culinary school and was perfect for toting around food and equipment. She was stunned that he'd realized it was hers.

The dragon bumper sticker probably gave it away though.

"You," she repeated, fiddling with her key. She scowled. "I lost your card."

"The salad had too much pepper."

"What would a Northerner know about food? All it is is potatoes and roots to you people."

"Obviously, given my cousin's reaction to your Steak Dothrak."

"Move."

He moved, pushing himself up and turning around, his voice husky. "You're something else Daenerys Targaryen."

"So are you Jon Snow." She threw her bags into the car, shedding her chef jacket and remained in her loose pants and tank. Her silver braids fell out of their bun, her hat folded up in her office inside. She poked him in the chest. "Or should I say...Jon Snow, Crownlands Chronicle food and wine reporter?"

The tip of his tongue, delicably pink, stuck out between his teeth when he smiled, scrunching his nose up. "Guilty."

"That was low, reporters usually tell when they're going to be reviewing."

"That's unfair, how would I know I'm getting the real Daenerys Targaryen?"

"Well you got her and she's pissed at you." And kind of turned on too.

He leaned in closer; he smelled like peppermint and whiskey and....spice. She couldn't help the hum in the back of her throat. "You have four hours until you get up, do you want to have a drink?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"

"Because you've been on your feet for hours, probably haven't slept since what?" He checked his watch. "Three in the afternoon?" She scowled; yes, that was right. "And I think you could use one. Anyone could after handing Sansa Stark's ass to her on a silver platter. Thanks for that, she was fucking with the Steak Dothrak after I warned her not to mess with it, it's perfect as it is."

It had been a long day. A long night. Except he was the enemy. He was a food critic. He made a living tearing apart chefs and thinking his taste was better. A Northerner thought his taste was better than a Valyrian? Ha! She lifted her chin up. "You think the salad had too much spice?"

"Just a bit too much pepper." He smiled again. "But the fish was superb."

"What about the soup?"

"A little watery."

She pushed him hard towards the restaurant. "No, it was fine!"

"So prove it," he hummed, leaning in and brushing his lips over hers.

She buckled and took a deep breath, grabbing hold of the front of his coat. It was a terrible idea, but definitely a risk she was happy to take. Into the frying pan, she thought, kissing him back.

Before she pulled away and dragged him towards the kitchen so she could prove him wrong.

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #jonerys drabbles

[ohcaptaintarthister]

The Assassination of Jaime Lannister*

Rant contains spoilers of Season 8 Episode 4 of Game of Thrones. Look away if you haven't seen it.

Right. Here we go.

I did not read the series A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) until Season 5 of Game of Thrones. Fantasy is not my favorite genre. Besides these books by George RR Martin, the only fantasy novel I've read was The Eyes of the Dragon by Stephen King.

I was drawn to the books because of the show. They're not easy to read. Besides being thick enough to actually hurt someone with it, I read them with zero ideas about the conventions of fantasy, the worldling and so on. I was curious and wanted to see. Also, Season 5 took too long. After a weekend where I binged on Seasons 1 to 4, I needed to know about the books.

The wait for Season 5 was reason one. Curiosity the second. The third was I have fallen in love with Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth. Yes. I was in love with them as a pair. They are my favorite characters.

Back then I had no idea what shipping meant, and what fandoms were. But I knew I had to see if the chemistry of Jaime and Brienne in the show, awesomely played by Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Gwendoline Christie, resulted from casting and adaptation or if the characters' interactions sizzled in the books. In other words, and this is vocabulary I picked up once I began wading deeper into the fandom, I was curious if it was canon.

And it was!

On their own and together, Jaime and Brienne were written with nuanced complexity. Jaime, especially, seemed sketched to cover the entire spectrum of gray and other unknown shades of it. Readers and show-onlys went from wishing this guy Seven Hells for throwing a ten-year-old child from a window to cheering him on as he found himself, often with great reluctance at first, on a path to redemption. Because Jaime, once separated from his family--the continuing disapproval of his father Tywin because he was nothing more than a glorified bodyguard and the quicksand relationship with twin sister Cersei--was finally free to be a man on his own. It did not matter that he was one of the greatest sword fighters, that he was a Lannister and Kingsguard. Robb Stark's army captured him because he was leading the Lannister armies. He lost his hand for thinking being a Lannister gave him protection and privilege. One-handed and probably still fevered, he jumped into the bear pit to rescue Brienne of Tarth. And before that, he saved her from being raped too.

As all that Jaime had been was gradually stripped away to reveal a man who murdered his king to protect the people yet one who loved his sister without guilt, Brienne was there in the picture of him being rendered anew. Honestly, because of Brienne, I swung to Team Jaime. Possibly with pom-poms too.

But after reading the books and seeing some episodes again, I began to wonder if David Benioff and D.B. Weiss hated the character.

While in the books Jaime said, "The things we do for love" WITH LOATHING, in the show he said the line with a smirk, that throwing a boy out the window was the natural consequence of protecting his affair with Cersei. Maybe Show!Jaime didn't see it as a consequence but something that simply had to be done but without smugness.

Okay, I thought. That was weird but the writers have to know right? They read the books.

When Jaime and Brienne finally have that bath in the show, and how it was adapted as faithfully as possible, I thought the show finally understood him. It was weird that Jaime returned to Cersei before the Purple Wedding but i thought of nothing of it.

Until THAT episode in Season 4.

In the books, the scene above should be when Jaime returned at King's Landing after being captured by Robb Stark and The Brave Companions. The reunion was from Jaime' point of view. Cersei's consent was clear:

"Hurry," she was whispering now, "quickly, quickly, now, do it now, do me now. Jaime Jaime Jaime." Her hands helped guide him. "Yes," Cersei said as he thrust, "my brother, sweet brother, yes, like that, yes, I have you, you’re home now, you're home now, you’re home." She kissed his ear and stroked his short bristly hair." 

In the show, she actually said, "It's not right!" a few times. Also, a few episodes prior to this, we saw Jaime complaining to her that he had been "back for weeks," and wanted to resume their affair. While in the books we saw two people falling in each other's arms after being apart for a long time, and needing each other desperately, in the show we saw rape. Though the claim by Benioff and Weiss was due to "bad editing/lighting" and that it was "unintentional," their refusal to actually address the issue and just re-edit and re-broadcast buried even more Jaime's redemption arc. As a viewer I forgave this mistake. Maybe next season?

Nope. It got worse.

When Jaime and Cersei made love by Joffrey' body in the books, this was the last time the twins would have sex. The books showed Jaime's gradual disillusionment with Cersei--he thought she drank too much, was tired of her scheming. Tyrion also told him about her affairs with other men. So when Jaime went to Riverrun to recover it for the Crown, he was not only the farthest from Cersei again, he was done. Just DONE. Her pleas for him to help her and promises of love end up tossed in the fire.

The show, rather than adapting this, simply diverged. Season 5 was as confused in what to do with Jaime as lots of viewers were. Season 6 saw Jaime and Cersei resume their affair before he left for the Riverlands. Returning to King's Landing in the finale, we saw the chilling look Jaime gave Cersei during her coronation.

Perhaps this was it. This would be when he falls out of love.

HA.

Season 7, until this weekend's episode, was THE WORST ADAPTATION OF JAIME. There. I'm saying it. THE WORST.

Why? It wasn't even the incest that pissed me off. Jaime, who slew the Mad King for wanting to torch King's Landing with wildfyre, did a dizzying 180 by ENABLING his sister, who murdered Queen Margaery, her former fiance, Kevan Lannister and other innocent members of the court by wildfire. Season 7 Jaime simply took Cersei at her word. Forget about Tommen, THEIR LAST SON. Who committed suicide as a result of his wife's murder. Forget about what really caused the Sept explosion. What mattered was creating a dynasty for "the last Lannisters who count."

Jaime stood by her side and in the queen' name, contributed in tearing further apart the Seven Kingdoms. No questions asked. LITERALLY no questions asked. Despite telling Cersei of the danger of her new position, he went on to rant about the lack of allies. That can be read as Jaime being practical but as the season progressed, it was proof that he would be at her side no matter what. No matter who had to be murdered. He DID say he would murder everyone until it was only the two of them left in the world. Alright.

LIoking back on past episodes, Cersei always succeeded in keeping Jaime at her side with promises of going public with their affair. In the books, Jaime pressed her to let people know he was her choice and she refused. In the Season 4 finale, she told him she told Tywin about them, resulting in passionate and this time consensual sex on a table in the White Sword Tower. In Episode 3 of Season 7, after Cersei fucked him to celebrate her victory over the Sand Snakes, we saw a loved up Jaime in the morning after.

This would be the happiest viewers had seen Jaime. Cersei, now really THE Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, would openly fuck him. The scandal reached as far as Eastwatch, with Tormund, wanting to clarify, asking which queen was discussed in a conversation. "The one with the dragons or the one who fucks her brother?"

After Daenerys and her Dothraki army burned the Lannister forces on their way back to King's Landing, a shaken and muddy Jaime returned to Cersei right away. And in the same episode, Cersei revealed she was pregnant again. This was happy news, indeed but Jaime needed to know one thing: who will Cersei acknowledge as the father.

"You."

Now I refuse to think Cersei had once again succeeded in manipulating him. I think she WAS pregnant. There's no way to fake joy like that. And yeah, though I don't ship them, I understood Jaime's happiness. Finally, he would get to be a real father.

Still, still, still. Season 7 Jaime really made no sense. There was none of Book Jaime here. None. What we saw was a guy who supported a tyrant willingly and was now going to be a real daddy. I hate it but that's really Season 7 Jaime. Even when he left Cersei, the reason was a headscratcher.

"I don't believe you," has got to be the worst break-up line because it's lame. Better if Jaime just looked at Cersei with puppy dog eyes and walked away. Really.

The beginning of Season 8 saw the writing of Jaime hitting the right beats. A different man, check. A man who honestly regrets what he did to Bran, check. A man who was no longer the golden lion and ready to fulfill a vow he made, check. Hearteyes at Brienne, check.

He knighted Brienne. BIG, FAT CHECKS.

In episode four, The Last of the Starks, Benioff and Weiss, probably tired from the glare of their computer screens, seemed to have just written the episode in bullet points. It became glaringly obvious they wanted the series over and done with. Fuck decent writing.

Jaime Lannister is not the only one who was badly written in the latest episode. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about Qyburn's ballista and Euron apparently a sharp-shooter. We have no idea how Missandei was captured. That drinking game with Jaime, Brienne, Podrick and Tyrion was awkward and misogynistic--seriously, why shame Brienne for being a virgin?

And Sansa! Sansa basically saying if she had not been raped and abused, she wouldn't be in the position she is now! Who on earth says anything like that? Answer: no one. And I don't mean Arya.

And Missandei. The ONE WOMAN OF COLOR in a blindingly white show is chained and beheaded!

Then Jaime. Oh, Jaime.

There are no happy endings in Game of Thrones. Ned Starks gets beheaded. Jon Snow gets knifed. Sansa is raped. Catelyn, Robb and Talisa get butchered. Just when victory is within reach, characters are punished so cruelly it's inhuman.

But it doesn't mean crappy writing. At fifteen million dollars an episode this season, I expect writing that reflects intelligence. Who cares about CGI wolves and dragons when the writing is shit?

Now it's no longer a question if David Benioff and D.B. Weiss hate Jaime. THEY DO. Everyone else was buffed up or given meat. They couldn't even spare Jaime Lannister a decent-sized bone.

I don't blame Jaime for leaving Brienne. Hear me out.

After Brienne and Sansa tell him the latest developments in King's Landing with regard to Cersei, we see Jaime shocked and even horrified. The next scene, he's in the chambers with Brienne contemplating what to do. And this is where the writing becomes really shitty:

1. He left her without saying goodbye.

2. He LEFT Brienne with her thinking he did it for Cersei.

What was the point of according her the respect and honor of being a knight--done by his own hand? What was the point of telling her he was no longer the fighter he was? Where was the respect when he was going to leave her as a regrettable one night stand? (But Winterfell to King's Landing is a month by land so I assume they've been banging for that long)

Nothing, it's just illogical shit.

Had the writers made just a bit more effort, Jaime Lannister should have been shown experiencing some happiness with Brienne, rather than Tyrion telling the viewers about it. We don't see it. We're just told and have to take their word for it. Jaime could have benefitted too in leaving Brienne in the NEXT episode. Why? It increases the stakes. Just one scene showing Jaime happy, just one, and of him ACTUALLY talking to Brienne about having to leave instead of being found out, and the episode probably won't be as crappy. I don't mind Brienne begging and crying, heartbreaking as that scene is. What I mind is Jaime never being shown what he stands to lose if he leaves Winterfell. Olenna Tyrell, before he he grants her the mercy of taking poison, had warned him it will be too late for him. She's right.

I believe he goes to King's Landing because of the guilt that he began a war to protect Cersei. When he does things for Cersei, the consequences are horrible and far-reaching. Easy to call him dumb and he is. But let's not forget that he charged at Daenerys and Drogon with just a spear thinking to end it all. A spear against a fire-breathing dragon. Like, what are the odds, right?

I'm not going to say anything more about The Bang That Was Promised And Sucked Donkey Balls. Enough has been said, enough hearts have been broken. We KNOW the world of Game of Thrones is dark and bitter and almost without hope. We really do. But as fans of the books and the show, FANS WHO MADE IT POSSIBLE FOR THE SERIES BE RENEWED AND HBO TO INCREASE THE BUDGET EVERY SEASON, all we ask for is good writing. We get that without actual material from George the writing is challenging. WE REALLY DO.

But is it too much to ask for the writers to set aside their hatred for one of the best characters in the series and understand him? Give him the material he deserves in the show? There is none of the Book Jaime trying so hard to be honorable. None. Instead what we've been given, since the first episode, is a train wreck of an adaptation that has now been confirmed as a character assassination.

It's not dragonfyre that has killed Jaime but writing that is careless, hurried and just plain awful. In Benioff and Weiss' determination and delusion in finishing the TV series on a high note, Jaime Lannister has been left with barely a whimper.

*Previously titled, "When Adaptations Assassinate A Character."

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #brienne x jaime #game of thrones #braime #asoiaf #the last of the starks #gots8e4 #gotspoilers #spoilers #got spoilers #game of thrones spoilers #david benioff #d.b. weiss

[oddcoupler222]

*pounds fists on table* Those Who Wait AU, TWW AU, TWW AU! trying to get my chant started ;) but seriously, i would do many things in order for you to post the alternate ending where Margaery didn't come out in that article/didn't go to the wedding...

okaaaay now that the real ending is out and about, i can divulge the au ending

in the event that Margaery didn’t go to Robb’s wedding, didn’t come out to Missandei in that article, the courses of their lives change drastically. Those Who Wait would have come to an end with chapter 21 (post Sansa’s love confession)

and then we would have:

It’s Only A Matter of Time

Sansa and Margaery are “broken up” (semantics, since they weren’t technically together and all). Sansa breaks down to Jeyne about their breakup, has confessed her love for Margaery. It’s been almost a month since that fateful confession, and Margaery is about to do her final interview before the election. In chapter 22 of Those Who Wait, she talks to both Renly and her grandmother, and is also heartbroken and knows she’s in love with Sansa.

But when the moment comes for her to tells Missandei about her sexuality…she decides by the skin of her teeth that it’s too risky, and instead, swallows it and listens to what she believes are her better instincts.

Now, the story diverges. Sansa goes home for Robb’s wedding, dealing withher heartbreak from Margaery. Margaery does not show up and profess her love for her.

Margaery goes on to win the election for the Small Council by the considerable margin she had on Cersei at that given point in time, and buries herself in work to get over her heartbreak. Sansa does her best to lean on her family and friends and deal with her feelings, as she prepares for her internship.

And… life goes on.

Eventually, the heartbreak gets easier. Sansa slays her internship, and returns back to King’s Landing seven months later (about 10 months post-breakup), and is as over Margaery as she’s going to be, really (which hurts and takes some time, more time than she’s ever had to deal with before after a breakup, because she has never been in love with someone the way she’s in love with Margaery. She’s never met anyone like Margaery, and they just had… something between them that clicked so well… so it takes some time).

She enrolls in KLU for a PhD program, working as an adjunct professor there (which will become her tenure career), and eventually starts trying to date. The following year, she meets Arianne Greenfield. She’s a couple years older, a journalist.They date, get engaged, and married, within the next few years. Two years later, they have a daughter, Gemma.

In the meantime, Margaery is a badass and climbing the political ladder like no one’s business. Margaery Tyrell is quickly becoming a name, beyond Olenna Tyrell’s granddaughter. She makes more reforms and gets more proposals approved than anyone has in over twenty years, and gets elected to the High Council in less than three years. Which is outstandingly fast.

She, after almost a year of self-imposed celibacy, VERY quietly dips into meeting women who she is sure will be discreet. It’s less frequent than in the past, she doesn’t go on any dating apps or anything, and it’s usually one night stands. There are a couple who last a little longer, but they are usually people who also have things on the line/wouldn’t really want for their sexuality/romantic pursuits to be public. And even when women inevitably fall for her, she doesn’t ever fall back, or really ever let herself be in a position to be. Because she under no circumstances wants to feel like her personal wants and career are at odds like she did back with Sansa ever again, and also doesn’t want to feel that heartbreak.

Even though they weren’t in each other’s lives, though, they never completely lose track of one another.

Like. The day Sansa gets married, Margaery knows and does she hyper-focus on work that day, staying at the office later than anyone else, and then go home and get a bit drunk and cry? Yes, yes she does. Does she hear through the grapevine that Sansa was pregnant -and see her from a distance at the store during said pregnancy, and feel this pang through her heart at this feeling of longing because no one has ever gotten into her heart like Sansa did? Of course.

Does Sansa always - always - stop to read every article that features Margaery’s rising political career? Sometimes getting lost in the thoughts, with this strange feeling of pride? Does she sit on the edge of her seat during Margaery’s High Council election, because it was just SO important? Undoubtedly.

But no matter how many years went by or even that her wife was a journalist who would occasionally write on politics, she never breathed a word about Margaery’s sexuality.

And they saw each other a handful of times over the years, too. As I said, Marg saw pregnant Sansa at the store. Sansa’s dad died a couple years after she’s married/has her daughter, and as he was a prominent politician who - at that point - Margaery had met multiple times and worked with a bit, she attended his funeral.

Arianne ends up having somewhat of an emotional affair, with her high school sweetheart, when Gemma’s about four, in a painful twist for Sansa, and they geta divorce (the ultimate irony as the world’s biggest romantic who is constantly unlucky in love. Also she publishes a humorous short-stories book Unlucky In Love - Tales of a Literally Hopeless Romantic that she started writing when she was tipsy and at Jeyne’s house the night after her divorce was final).

Margaery, in accordance with her lifelong plan, comes out after being on the High Council for 8/9 years - a couple of years before running for PM. She does it relatively quietly; her name isn’t AS publicized as it is in TWW universe and she, as according to plan, is not in a relationship, so it’s not something that anyone ever sees. It’s still a big deal, but a calculated risk that is relatively working out.

And even though she is now open to the idea of being with a woman publicly, it’s also difficult because… she wants someone who is going to be there for her as a partner, someone who understands all of the demands of her job (and how it’s really not just any job… whoever would be with her has REAL demands put on them as well),someone who has her own ambitions and wants, too. And she can’t really datecasually all that easily, you know? And - Margaery has discretely dated a LITTLE since coming out, but… she has this image of who she wants. It’s a, uhhh, very specific of an image of what she wants in a girlfriend.

The dust is starting to settle on being out, though, because it’s been a little over a year, and as she announced that she’s going to run for Prime Minister in the next election only about 2 years off, and the campaign is slowly starting, there’s a lot more interest in her right now. As the first outwardly gay politician as well as one of the youngest ever, who has become well known as a turning point in politics, there’s been some talk about having an authorized biography of sorts about her  to really jump into campaign season.

On the flip side, when Sansa had dinner that night that Marg came out, she quite literally dropped the cup she was holding at the announcement that Margaery Tyrell had come out (thank the gods for having a young child, because her cup was plastic, but like - still, she gets a weird look from her daughter). And she can’t help but have fleeting what-if thoughts that she does her best to squash.

Now, into the thick of things -

One of the big platforms Margaery has been working on since she got into politics is about education. Cost, quality, structure, etc. And she and a few others on the High Council who had supported different bills/proposals about funding for education are going to an event at King’s Landing University, which has a new program running for scholarships and students from not privileged backgrounds.

As the fates come together: Margaery and some others who have been on the political side of this education reform attend a a big dinner/fundraiser to jumpstart some programs at KLU. She’s there, having a decent evening, talking to some coworkers, when some speeches begin - and everything becomes background noise in that moment because

Sansa Stark (is it still Stark, she wonders, after she got married?) is up there, addressing the room. And even though there have been those very few moments they’ve seen one another in the last 15 years, it hasn’t happened in years and Sansa looks so good. Her hair is a little shorter and she’s older, but she’s up there and making a speech and - she is captivated by her.

After the speeches and whatnot are said and done, Sansa is in the crowd and is talking to a few of her coworkers, and as she’s in the middle of conversation, who joins the conversation but Margaery Tyrell.

Sansa chokes on her drink, because she did not know Margaery was going to be there, and she’s really right there and smirking. And Sansa only remembers seeing Margaery once in person since their breakup, but it was at her dad’s funeral and she was heartbroken and grieving and doesn’t remember much of that time, so this feels like. The first time she’s seeing her in person, and of course every time she’s seen her in articles or on the news, it doesn’t do her justice.

They get “introduced” and Sansa is still surprised and speechless, and Margaery shakes Sansa’s hand anyway - holding for a beat too long - as she says, “We’ve met, actually.” But never looks away from Sansa. 

“How are you?” is the first thing that comes out of Sansa’s mouth, because she’s just - she’s been wondering since Margaery had come out, honestly.

“I’m well; what about you?” Margaery’s voice is low and even though Sansa’s coworkers are there, she can’t help but feel like it’s just the two of them, and she slowly releases Sansa’s hand - no more wedding ring, she notes, and feels a resounding thud deep inside.

Sansa, after Margaery drops her hand, shakes herself out of it as much as she can, but how does she still feel that way when Margeary touches her? Like it’s 15 years ago, and she has to shake herself out of it. “I - I’m good.”

They don’t have time to talk just by themselves, really, standing in a group with their coworkers, but they have commentary with the group, and don’t really look away from one another.

Sansa goes home, tiptoeing in because Gemma is not the world’s heaviest sleeper. Jeyne is babysitting and can tell she’s dazed even as she huffs and falls into a chair. And when she tells Jeyne, her friend shouts, and ends up cutting the conversation short, because Gemma wakes up.

And Margaery? Well she goes home feeling like she wants to know Sansa all over again.

Fast-forward to a week later, where Sansa gets a phone call from Westerosi Publishing, who has wanted to publish an authorized bio on Margaery since she came out. And she’s almost numb in surprise, when they tell her that she was personally requested to write Margaery Tyrell’s story. “Requested?! By…”

“Ms. Tyrell, of course.”

Which is flattering and for a moment wonderful, but then like - “I’ll be in touch,” she tells them distantly.

Because what does this all mean?

So, she goes to meet with Margaery to talk about this, and has to take deep breaths and remindherself that she isn’t 24 anymore and Margaery Tyrell isn’t the first womanshe’s ever been with who broke her heart. That she is a married-and-divorced woman, with a daughter, and that this is going to be professional (even though it keeps playing in her mind that Margaery PERSONALLY REQUESTED HER).

So, she goes into the meeting, and Margaery is thrilled to see her. Because just in that one reuniting with Sansa, she felt more than she has with anyone else, like they have this thing between them. And she isn’t expecting anything, but maybe this at least can be a solid point for them to talk again.

She and Sansa talk a little bit, and Sansa is clearly a littlenervous, and finally, she asks why Margaery personally requested her for this. And Margaery thinks for a moment. Because her team was against it - “This Stark woman has only written academic pieces, with a sprinkling of historical fiction collabs and one admittedly successful but still book about humorous short stories. You could get so many more distinguished people -” “I want her.” -

“I want my story to be told by someone who understands me,” she settles on, quietly. Honestly. At the very base of it, she needs that.

“And,” she winks, “I’ve read both of your books and I know how talented you are. Even if it’s been a while for us to reconnect, I trust you much more than I trust a stranger to write a fair portrayal of me.”

It’s - the vulnerability that gets Sansa. The honesty, the earnestness, that draws her right in, and she finds herself agreeing.

So they go over some logistics in that meeting, and end with a handshake. And Margaery is wearing that little smile that makes Sansa’s stomach flip-flop even after so long, even though Margaery hasn’t done anything remotely unprofessional… And Margaery is wearing that smile because she just- Sansa is still Sansa. Some things have changed, of course, because no one stays the same after so much time passes, but there are things about Sansa that could never change, and she feels this rush of - something.

So, they communicate a bit through email/text, and then meet up again for a dinner meeting, the following week. And Sansa gets the feeling that Margaery might be hitting on her, somewhat. Which is a rush in and of itself, for her, too. Because Sansa hasn’t dated since her divorce, not really, and Margaery has this thing about her that has always always just set her on fire and made her feel like blushing and beautiful and…

But - no. This is Margaery, who broke her heart once, who is now in evenmore of an important position, who is literally in line to become the leader of the country – and so Sansa clears her throat at dinner and asks, “I know we have a, uh, a history. But this is - professional. You and I. Professional. Right?”

And Margaery smiles at her, even though entirely professional isn’t exactly what she wants, but she concedes…even before she quietly clears her throat, “Sansa, about the - the past-”

“I don’t think we need to talk about that,” Sansa interrupts, flushing, because it’s been so many years and she can still picture when Margaery broke up with her, when they’d met at the cafe, so clearly, and, “There’s no need. We grew, we moved on, and we’re, well, we’re here now.”

Which isn’t exactly what Margaery wants, because she wants Sansa to know so much about what she was feeling back then, and maybe she never really entirely moved on from that? She isn’t positive, she just knows no one else has ignited her the way Sansa does. She’s never felt the need to smile or that weird feeling in her stomach just from hearing from someone the way she does with Sansa, even after this time.

But if that’s what Sansa wants, she nods, and accepts it.

They keep working together, meeting every week. After a couple of weeks, things feel like they have a rhythm down, which is good and easy and just like it always is between them when other things don’t get in the way. They laugh about things and have some light hearted teasing and sort of re-get to know each other (and find that they are different in some ways, of course, but… still the same in others. They talk about their same love of tv shows and movies and books and share new things about their jobs. Sansa talks about Jeyne and Arya (who officially lives in KL now and they are closer now, even) and sort of about her daughter, but she actively has been trying to keep that barrier a bit because she needs to try to keep some boundaries. And Margaery eats every single detail up).

But Sansa does her best to try to redirect them back to Margaery, taking notes about her life and thoughts, and constantly reminding herself that she is there to do a job.

After about a month, Sansa has to cancel their meeting. Because, as she tells Margaery, she just has so much at home right now and she wishes she could go to their dinner, but she just can’t. She sounds so stressed - and Margaery takes the initiative.

She goes to Sansa’s, bringing dinner with her, and officially meets Sansa’s daughter - who is adorable and precocious and chatty after initially being a little shy. She talks to Margaery, all excited, because she recognizes thatshes “the council lady on the news that mommy watches” and asks all sorts of questions, like if Margaery really is in charge of everything and if she gets to have ice cream whenever she wants, etc. And seeing them together is like so surreal to Sansa and alarmingly nice which it SHOULDN’T BE and she sheepishly apologizes for all of Gemma’s loquaciousness after she puts her to bed, but Margaery waves her off, because she genuinely, really enjoyed it.

Things are quiet between them and it kind of leads them into talking more personally than they have been. 

About Margaery’s current wants and personal life (they’ve been talking a lot about her history and childhood during their other meetings, because that is where Sansa is starting in getting book material). But Sansa keeps thinking about Margaery and her daughter and ends up saying, “You were really good with her.”

Margaery is pleased and surprised that Sansa thinks so, “You don’t need to sound so surprised,” even if she’s very grateful, “She’s truly very cute. Very much like her mother,” it slipped out.

Sansa laughsa bit, and Margaery hesitantly asks - because she needs to know, “Where is her other mother?”

Sansa is quiet, her shoulders slumping after a moment, before she sighs, and unloads the story. About Arianne, the cheating, and her divorce. And about how she moved to the Westerlands, where she’s from, last year because her new wife’s sister is sick. Which Sansa understands, she supposes, but their daughter is here, and Sansa is essentially a single mother, now, and Arianne is supposed to take her for two weeks to the Westerlands in two weeks, but rescheduled it for the following month, which had resulted in Gemma being very upset and why Sansa had canceled their meeting.

Margaery eats upall of the information (and is pissed about the fact that Sansa’s wife cheated on her and is now all happily married and not here meanwhile Sansa raises their daughter primarily by herself but she holds it in). Before her hand falls to Sansa’s, which - touching isn’t something they do very often, but she can’t help it, “I think you’re truly incredible for doing it all, for the entire life you’ve built.”

And Sansa almost cries, really, because Margaery means it and she can see how much she means it, and she didn’t know how much it would mean to hear Margaery say that but it does. Then she scoffs out a little laugh and is like, “Yeah, and all of this comes from the woman who is doing it all. Everything you’ve ever wanted, en route to being the most successful woman in the country. You really are almost there.”

It truly almost slips out, the words WANT to come out, that she doesn’t really have it ALL…

Which leads into holding long eye contact… leaning in like magnets because how can they not… and they kiss. Starting off slow and exploring and just feeling and Sansa sighs against Margaery’s lips, her hands cupping her jaw softly because gods, there is just a way Margaery feels against her that is so - so Margaery.

And Margaery feels like she could devour Sansa, because this want inside of her is immediate and she feels like they left off in a way that was her own fault, but she never got closure on this door, and it feels like she’s been missing this for over a decade. They makeout on Sansa’s couch and it’s so good, and just when Margaery’s hands fall to her waist, Sansa pulls back.

She’s a little panicked and tells Margaery that they can’t. That it’s not at all agood idea and - so much could go wrong and… they can’t. Because she is panicking and there’s so much to think about, and Margaery sees that, and leaves to give Sansa space.

The next time they meet, a few days later, Sansa is determined to make sure that does NOT happen again (which is also a little rough because Margaery is so fucking attractive and she’s giving Sansa the looks like she wants to kiss her and -ugh). And so finally, she addresses the kiss, and wants to say it’s a mistake and – is floored when Margaery says that she doesn’t regret it at all, and that, in fact, she would like to kiss Sansa again, right now, in fact. Sansa leaves their meeting early and is reeling.

… but eventually gets brave and texts Margaery the next day to ask her professional questions about the next section of the biography. Which Margaery answers, quickly. And then also tells Sansa that she meant it when she said she wanted Sansa yesterday, and that she doesn’t want to push her at all, but she wants to be open this time around.

They end up sleeping together after a celebratory dinner because the first chunk of the book that Sansa got done was extremely well-received by the publisher. And afterwards, Marg spends the night at Sansa’s (because, damn it,she is In This, this time). They see Gemma the next morning, which - Sansa is all, mommy had an adult-friends sleepover, and Gemma is oblivious, but is enamored with Margaery, who is somewhat quickly rushed out by Sansa.

Sansa is having an internal crisis about what to do, because she is nervous about dating at all at this point in her life, isn’t open to being burned again, and definitely isn’t wanting for herself or her daughter to be subject to all of the comments that could/would be made by public medias if everything goes south if she was found out “being with” Margaery (and isn’t sure she wants her daughter all of the suddenin that spotlight at all)

But of course, she can barely control herself with Marg, because when has she ever been able to?

They sleep together a few more times, too and it’s all so familiar but also new, and it’s so exciting. For both of them. Like falling in love all over again but somewhat like they never left. Only, this time, for Margaery it’s something she wants, something she welcomes and she could cry with how much she feels like she’s been missing this, missing Sansa. And for Sansa, she is so unsure and worried…

Featuring a night, about a month into it, Sansa and Margaery are talking - Marg asks about if she’s excited for her “girls night” with Jeyne and Mya and Elia and a few others they’ve befriended along the way, and Sansa disappointed-sighs and says she is going to cancel, because her sitter cancelled on her. And before Margaery realizes it, she is volunteering to watch Gemma for the night.

Sansa pauses, like, “um really?” Because while Margaery has met Gemma a couple of times, it’s never been just the two of them and Sansa has sort of been trying to keep it like that, but the thought of it is so nice…

Margaery is also like WHAT AM I SAYING inside but, “Yes, of course,” slips out, because she wants to be closer to Sansa and getting to know Gemma more is a factor in that. One that she surprisingly isn’t terrified of or avoiding.

It ensues a scene with Loras, who is cracking up, “YOU’RE going to watch a CHILD?” because kids are obviously not something Margaery is around often.

But then she goes to Sansa’s place and Sansa gives her quick overview/instructions and is sort of reluctant to leave…

However, it turns out that Gemma at first is very satisfied with laying down and coloring and reading, especially because Margaery makes a lot of funny voices when it comes to reading aloud. They end up getting along well. Margaery paints her nails and Gemma is just really damn adorable because she is like a little Sansa in a few ways, which is more precious than Margaery could have thought.

She also gets Margaery to give her some lemon cakes by giving her the big-blue eyes, and when they’re sitting together at the kitchen table, she stares at Marg and asks, “Are you dating my mommy? Because my mom, my other mom, dated someone new and then left,” and she’s all downtrodden.

And there’s a moment for them, where Margaery feels the weight of those words, the weight of what she’s doing here - what she wants to do - with Sansa, as in be serious with her. She finds that she’s still not scared of it, though, and she gives Gemma a little smile, “I don’t think your mommy would leave you, for anything in this world.”

And Gemma smiles a little back at her, “You’re probably right.”

They end up falling asleep on the couch together, during which Gemma tells Margaery that she’d like if she came back for movies, especially if she’s dating her mom. And also if Margaery wants to come to school with her on career day, because “that would be cool.”

And gods be damned, Margaery thinks right in that moment she falls for Gemma, too.

And coming home from girls night - which featured Sansa getting called out on sleeping with Margaery and Jeyne absolutely screaming, “What fucking YEAR is it?!” - Sansa comes home and sees the two of them sleeping on the couch. Which of course melts Sansa’s very soft heart that she has been trying to keep tough to relatively no avail.

It all leads to a moment nearing the end of this, where Sansa is talking to Margaery for the biography, tentatively, about her love life. And she has to get all of her bravery to ask, “And… have you ever been in love?” She doesn’t know what she wants to hear, really, but she knows her heart is racing.

When Margaery stares at her she holds her gaze, as she feels her own heart pounding, “With one woman, yes.”

And Sansa’s breath rushes out, and tries to continue asking questions, trying to remain as objective as possible, starting to ramble a bit.

But Margaery interrupts her, standing from her desk as she speaks quietly but steadily, “I was in love when I was in my twenties, right before I won my first big election for the small council.” She rounds the desk to kneel in front of Sansa, “There was a woman who was both predictable and unpredictable in the best of both ways, kind and intelligent, and so very lovely, who was in love with me. I broke her heart, because I was too concerned with how it would effect my career. And I’ve spent fifteen years questioning and ultimately regretting that decision, and wondering what might have been if I hadn’t been so afraid.“ 

At some point, her eyes welled up with tears, because it’s all true and it feels so big inside of her, all of the times she’d spent wondering what if, what if.

Sansa’s heart is racing and she is this close to tears, as she’s frozen. And she… she doesn’t know what to do.

"I haven’t dated anyone seriously since my divorce,” comes out.

"I know, darling,” it feels so natural to say, and Sansa actually shivers at it, even as she shakes her head.

"I - I have a daughter.”

“Gemma is very lovable.”

“I… I’m scared,” she admits, because she is, that’s what it boils down to. Scared for her daughter, scared for herself, and…

“I’m not.”

“How can you not be?” Sansa was incredulous.

“Because everything I said to you is true, Sansa. I broke your heart because I was afraid and I can’t change that, but I’m out now, and I’m not afraid. I’ve done everything alone, just like I always thought I would. But I never thought it would be so lonely. And I want you to share it with, if you want me, too,” it’s really more begging than she’s ever done in her life, and she doesn’t want Sansa to leave her office, she - she feels like everything is so vulnerably on the line.

But Sansa’s hands are shaking and she tells her she just - she needs some time.

Which leads to both of them being miserable and Margaery tries to give her space, even as she thinks about how she’s sure that only Sansa will ever be this for her. This person who makes her feel so much, who she is so in love with, who makes her feel like everything is on the line. She doesn’t want to lose that, not again.

And Sansa… Sansa doesn’t know what to do at all. Until Margaery ends up coming to Gemma’s career day, shocking her, giving her an apologetic look, “I wouldn’t have come but Gemma, well, she asked me. And I’ll leave right after, I swear to you.”

Gemma beams at Marg while she speaks and tells Sansa that she likes the lady she’s dating, and there’s something in that moment that makes her feel like she should dive - so she follows Marg when she leaves, her heart in her throat.

And Sansa is actually, really, crying when she reaches her, her voice breaking, “You broke my heart. More than anyone ever has,” she admits, “I loved my wife, I really did, but even her cheating and ending our marriage… it was harder because of the situation, but I wasn’t as heartbroken, not nearly.”

Margaery stares at her, wide-eyed and she knows they’re in public and for this one moment, she can’t bring herself to care.

“There’s something about you, about you and me, that is just different. I thought it was because you were my first woman or maybe because you were the first person I really fell in love with, but I don’t - I don’t know how to explain. I don’t know anything other than the fact that it’s just the way it is,” she wipes at her cheeks, her hands shaking, her heart on the line it feels like, because everything with Margaery feels like that, and it always has.

But this time, Margaery’s eyes are big and soft and warm and there’s so much hope in them and there’s this rising feeling in her stomach, before Margaery reaches out and pulls her toward her, her arms wrapping around her waist, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss Sansa.

Not in secret, not in fear, just - loving her, for real, and she can’t stop, even as she feels Sansa’s hands comb through her hair before holding her there.

“It’s the same way for me,” she murmurs when they part, “It always has been.”

#those who wait #tww: au #its only a matter of time #long post #sorry #i love angst but this could never be the true ending because i LOVE madelyn and ellie so much i would miss them if they were never born #the problem is now that i also love gemma too D:

[aejonxarya]

Dany burning king's landing

r/freefolk (dany circlejerk) and really dany stans in general are always in denial about this. They know KL is burning, but are in denial that it could actually be Dany who burns it out of angry impulse. First they tried to justify it with things like the "NK made it to KL of course she'll burn it!" or "cersei kidnapped jon of course she'll burn it!"

Then they blame it on other characters since "Dany can never!"

First, they blame Bran who apparently wargs the dragon. Then they blame it on Cersei, who obviously blows up the wildfire. Recently, since that Friki guy's "leaks", they blamed it on Tyrion, who somehow schemes with Cersei to blow up the wildfire (wtf). "dAnY never does anything to burn innocent people!!!!! Of course someone else does it! They're EviLLL!!!"

Ok so if Cersei or Tyrion or Bran does it what the hell is Dany gonna do in the second half of season 8 then? Sit in a chair and braid Missandei's hair? Is that who she is? Is that her role in season 8? Who's arc is it to burn her enemies with fire? Certainly not Tyrion's or Bran's. It's between Dany and Cersei. But since Dany is PuRe GooD and Cersei is eViL, it totally has to be Cersei. 🙄

I mean, we didn't waste CGI budget on Bran's visions including the mad king's "Burn em all" fiasco AND this shot of a dragon over KL to not have it actually happen on the show.

That's kind of the point of the dragons right? They have the power to destroy and they will. George said so.

#anti-daenerys #anti-targaryen #rant

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter XIV "Second Sons"

Chapter XV ''Mother''

After all this, she needed to relax, to wash away the terrible gaze she still felt on her body. So that evening she lay in a bathtub filled with hot water, her hair still tied in a bun to keep it from getting wet. She lay there for some time with her eyes closed and enjoyed this pleasant moment when the hot water enveloped her body and Missandei gently washed her..

But she couldn't help but think about what she heard that day and about the future. If she is to conquer the Seven Kingdoms, she must be prepared for war. She needs cavalry. Even if she managed to acquire the Second Sons, two thousand cavalry would still not be enough.

She began to wonder where she could get a large amount of cavalry, but only one thing came to her mind and it was something she didn't particularly like, but she decided to ask Missandei about it.

"You said you know nineteen languages... Do you also know dothraki?" she started the topic with this question.

"Yes." Missandei replied, washing her arm.

"Could you teach me it?"

"I could, but it's... It's a hard language. Guttural and hard." she paused for a moment to soak the sponge. "Actually... Why would you want to learn it?"

"I was just wondering about the future. If I want to claim the throne, I need a cavalry. Dothraki are great at combining horse riding and fighting, aren't they? Even their deity is some... Big Stallion?"

"The Great Stallion." Missandei corrected her with a slight smirk on her face. "But the Dothraki have a very different culture. They lead a nomadic lifestyle, they do not settle in cities, and you plan for it. Besides, they are afraid of the seas."

"Why?"surprised, she turned her head to look at her friend.

"Sea water is poisonous to horses. These animals are an integral part of their lives, they will not board a ship or cross "poisonous water"." she explained.

"But they follow their... Khal." she said a bit uncertainly, because she wasn't sure if that was what the Dothraki leader was called. When Missandei didn't correct her - which means she remembered correctly - she continued. "They won't cross the sea if their khal orders them to?"

"It's not that easy to gain a khalasar. Dothraki follow power, not specific bloodlines or gold. If you would like to get your khalasar, you must prove your strength." she explained to Visenya, adding fragrance oil to the water. "There are certainly many other - and easier - ways to gain cavalry. But if you still want to learn Dothraki, we can start lessons even today."

"Yes, I would like to." she made herself more comfortable in the bathtub, a little deeper under the water, and closed her eyes, inhaling the beautiful, floral scent of the oil. "I'm a quick learner."

"If you really only learned Valyrian from books, you must have a talent for languages. You speak this language really fluently."

"It's a beautiful language, it just gets into your head." she replied, hearing Missandei putting the oil aside somewhere.

"Truly, the Gods could not have created a more perfect language. It is the only one suitable for poetry."

She lay there for a moment, breathing calmly, until she suddenly heard Missandei's sharp intake of breath. Her first instinct was to straighten herself up, grabbing the edge of the bathtub with her hands, but then she slid a little lower to let the water cover her breasts again when she saw that someone had broken into her tent. The man was wearing the clothes of the Unsullied and was holding a dagger to Missandei's throat, his free hand covering her mouth. How did he get here? Is he going to kill her? Where the hell are the guards?!

"Don't scream or she will die." said the stranger, although after those few words Visenya thought she knew that voice. He walked around the bathtub and stood in front of her, slowly removing the blade from the terrified girl's throat. Then he reached for his helmet and... Yes, her suspicions were right. Daario Naharis, was that his name?

As soon as he showed his face, the dagger returned to her friend's throat.

"What are you doing here? What do you want?" she covered her breasts with her hand, as if the water, which was a bit cloudy with soap and oil, wasn't enough. She felt very bad that a man was looking at her like this.

Of course, many people saw her naked, but they were always only maids who washed or dressed her, never a man. She could play seductive and emphasize her beauty to try to get what she wants, but it was only an appearance. In reality she wasn't like that, the most intimate contact she had with a man was when Jaime kissed her. She still remembered it and sometimes thought about it, even though she tried to push that day out of her mind, because it was also the day she lost Selaria.

"You."

"Me?" she asked, her eyes widening in surprise. Should she call for help? No, then he would definitely hurt Missandei... What if he hurt her too? No, if he wants her - in any way - he won't hurt her, so the first thing she needs to do is keep Missandei safe. "Let her go."

"Don't scream, beautiful girl." he said to Missandei and finally let her go. She immediately went to stand next to Vis, who was still sitting in the bathtub.

"They sent you to kill me." Visenya didn't ask, she stated a fact, but he nodded anyway, smiling. "Why don't you do it?"

If he hasn't attacked her yet, she's probably safe. But why? He doesn't look like the kind of person whose plans would be thwarted by fear.

"Because I don't want to."  he replied, as if that explained everything.

"And your captains didn't mind? Or rather you didn't tell them, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"It looked a bit different..." he took off the bag that he kept on his shoulder and poured out... Two heads belonging to his captains.

There you go, her dream had just come true to get the head of the one who treated women like objects, but she was completely indifferent to the other one. She looked away, a little less than Missandei, but just like her, she didn't want to look at it.

"So how did it look like?" she asked, her head still turned, but she was glancing at Daario.

"We argued."

"About what?"

"About you. Or rather, your beauty." hearing this answer, she furrowed her eyebrows and turned completely towards him. So her plan worked at least somewhat? "It didn't mean as much to them as it does to me."

"And that's why you decided to kill them?"

"You say it like it's something strange. I do what I like, I am guided by simple values."

There was only one thing she could agree with him on, because she knew it was true - beauty, that it sometimes messed you up, that it caused conflicts and could manipulate you. However, she did not consider it of such great value that it was worth fighting for. Freedom and the right to a dignified life were much more important. And in some circumstances, revenge too...

But she's not a man, maybe that's why she'll never understand it.

"And that's why I should trust you?" she said this with obvious mockery in her voice. "How do I know that one day you won't suddenly betray me?"

"They told me to kill you. I refused. They told me I had no choice. So I replied: I am Daario Naharis, I always have a choice. They drew their swords... So I drew mine too." he explained.

She still wasn't convinced. Should she believe that he will never betray her or kill her because he values ​​beauty in life? Because he killed his comrades, because they wanted him to kill her? In a sense, he was defending her... But he didn't know her, he had only heard rumors about her.

"Turn around." she said, wanting to finally get out of the bathtub. The water and its wonderful smell no longer brought her solace and relaxation, she would rather go out as soon as possible and wrap her body in a bathrobe, but not when he was watching.

Surprisingly, he listened to her without any comment. He turned around and she quickly got up and got out of the tub. She didn't even wipe herself, she just put on the robe that Missandei handed her. She tied it tightly around her waist so that it wouldn't accidentally fall off her and expose any of her intimate parts.

"You can turn back." she stated before saying something more. "Do you want to fight for me?" he just nodded. "I still don't know if I can trust you."

He came within a short step of her. She didn't pull away, even though her instincts told her to do so. |Itsaid that she shouldn't stand like that, but call the guards and have him killed too, but on the other hand... A small voice in her heart said that it was worth the risk. If he wanted to kill her, he would have done it a long time ago. Maybe he really is a simple man with simple values ​​and wants to fight for her just because she's pretty. He took out his sword - or rather it looked like a sickle of sorts - and knelt down on one knee in front of her.

"The Second Sons are yours, and so am I, Daario Naharis. My sword is yours, my life is yours... my heart is yours. I will help you take Yunkai, I will prove that you can trust me, my Queen."

And it looked like he was going to keep his word. Since the morning, he had been planning with her, Grey Worm, Ser Arthur, and Ser Barristan how to get Yunkai. He told them about the back gate through which the Second Sons entered to use the services of slaves in Yunkai - but noted that he did not use them himself, because he believed that it was impossible to make love to a property.

The plan was for the three of them - he, Ser Arthur, and Grey Worm - to enter through this gate, kill the few guards that were there, and open the main gate through which the Unsullied could enter. The city would then fall in a few hours at most.

Of course there were suspicions that it might be a trap, but she decided it was worth the risk. Besides, she sincerely doubted it was a trick. After all, if Daario wanted to kill her, he would have done it already.

So she agreed to this plan.

* * *

She refused to go to sleep. Once it got dark, she couldn't stay still for long. Every now and then she got up from the couch and walked around the tent, with many scenarios running through her head as to how this could all go down.

"We've been waiting too long." she said, taking one grape from the bowl Missandei handed her. She and ser Barristan were with her, they could certainly see how stressed she was. "How long does it take to take a city?" she asked him.

He was about to answer her when they heard footsteps. She quickly passed him and came closer, but... There were only two of them, she didn't see Daario anywhere.

"So...?" she started quietly, but didn't finish. She felt that the stress was growing inside her at this moment and she couldn't bear it anymore, she needed to hear if she had achieved her goal.

"It was as we predicted. The slave soldiers quickly dropped their spears and surrendered." replied Ser Arthur.

As she looked at him and Grey Worm, she had the impression that it wasn't that easy, but she didn't comment on it in any way. She was silent for a moment, and her lips finally curved into a soft smile.

"And... Where is Daario Naharis?"

She didn't have to wait long for an answer, because she heard more footsteps. It was Daario himself, carrying some cloth over his shoulder. He had a proud smile on his face as he walked close to her, knelt down like the previous day, and spread the flag with the Yunkai emblem in front of her.

"The city is yours, my Queen." he said.

In the morning they stood in a short distance outside the gates of Yunkai, surrounded by a small force of Unsullied for safety. People should have understood what happened a long time ago, but will they be willing to leave the city and face the person who took it? After all, Visenya did it to free them, she didn't want them to be afraid of her...

"They won't come out." she said finally, her eyes still focused on the gate.

"They will come out, Your Grace." ser Barristan assured her. "They'll come out when they're ready."

"Maybe they didn't want any changes?" she felt one of the dragons rubbing against her thigh. She stuck out her hand to it, but didn't turn her gaze, it was still focused on the gate.

What if they hate her for ruining their lives? But what kind of life is it that you can't decide for yourself? Maybe they will understand that she wants good for them? That this is a change for the better?

"They will understand that this is a change for the better. They are no longer slaves." replied ser Arthur.

"With time you learn to love your chains."

After all, she didn't want to run away from King's Landing at all at the beginning. She didn't even want to hear about the idea of ​​ruling anything. She only wanted a peaceful life, she changed her mind when Maelia appeared, and the additional trigger was that Tywin wanted to marry her off to Jaime.

But who knows, if it weren't for the dragon, maybe she would have accepted her fate?

Finally the gate opened and people of all ages and both sexes began to come out. It seemed that they wanted to see the person who had released the collars from around their necks. They began to gather in front of her, in that empty, sandy field that was between her and the city walls. When they came very close, the Unsullied put out their spears to keep the crowd from getting to the Queen.

After a few minutes, everyone who was supposed to get out did so, so Missandei stepped slightly in front of Visenya and started talking.

"Bisa iksis Visenya Targārien, se dāria hen sīkuda Dārȳti, se Muña Zaldrīzoti se pryjatys hen belma! Ao enkagon aōha dāez naejot zirȳla!" she spoke until Vis grabbed her hand and interrupted her.

*"This is Visenya Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Mother of Dragons and Breaker of Chains. To her you owe your freedom."*

"No..." she whispered to her and let her know that she will speak to the people herself. "Aōha dāez daoriot sytilībagon naejot nyke, ziry iksos aōhon! Nyke daor tepagon ziry naejot ao, kesrio syt īles va moriot aōhon! Lo jaelā ziry arlī, emā naejot gūrogon hen aōha belma se gūrogon lo syt aōla, tolvie single mēre hen ao! Se ȳdra daor ivestragī anāy dīnagon ao isse belma arlī!" she said, feeling tears starting to come to her eyes. She saw their faces, the way they looked at her, she could guess what they thought about her. She didn't want them to think of her as someone to whom they had to kneel like before their former Masters, she would rather be like part of their society.

*"Your freedom is not mine, it's yours. I cannot give it to you, because it has always been yours. If you want it back, you must throw off the chains and take it for yourself, each of you. And never let anyone put you in chains again."*

There was silence for a moment. For a while she wondered if she had misspelled some words, but then Missandei would surely correct her. Her heart was beating like crazy again and her gaze was moving from face to face. Finally someone broke out of the crowd and shouted something.

"Mhysa!"

One scream was followed by others, all saying the same thing, only... She didn't know what. It wasn't Valyrian. Finally, the entire crowd was chanting the same thing, and she didn't know how to react, what to do or say.

"Visenya..." Missandei leaned towards her. "It means "mother", it's old ghiscari."

Mother. They hailed me as their mother.

The tears that had been gathering in the corners of her eyes for some time now flowed. She cried with emotion, she never thought she could do enough for someone to be called a mother. She wanted to come between them, hug each of them, tell them how much it meant to her. She wanted to do so much that the day would not be enough, it would not be enough to even thank them.

She may have brought them freedom, but they were the ones who built her self-confidence. Thanks to them, she grew hope that there was something to fight for, that it was worth it. She wanted to continue going through Essos and free the slaves until the concept of slavery disappeared from all dictionaries.

She felt a brush against her leg again, or even both of her legs. She looked down and smiled through the tears of happiness. She crouched down next to the dragons and told them to fly. The four of them quickly took to the air, flying over people's heads and circling the area. They caused a slight commotion, but when everyone saw that they weren't hurting anyone, they stopped shouting at the sight of them. Then she took her first, hesitant step towards the people. She would have made another one, but ser Arthur blocked her halfway. Apparently he was afraid that these people might hurt her. That thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

"They won't hurt me, ser." she said gently. "After all that, collect as many collars as we can take with us." she added before continuing walking toward people. She passed the line of the Unsullied and entered among the people.

She had never felt as good in her life as she did in that moment. They called her mother, everyone wanted to touch her, see her up close. They moved aside to make path for her, smiling and gently touching her shoulders or hair as she passed.

After a while, they were bold enough to lift her above their heads in their arms. She was sitting on the shoulders of two men, and everyone around her kept saying "mhysa" and reaching out to her, and she returned the gesture.

In her entire life, she had never felt so loved and so in her place. After the world had been cruel to her for many years, it was now giving her back for everything she had suffered. These people were strangers to her, and yet she felt like she was surrounded by family. She did something good for the world. There is still a chance to save this world full of cruelties, and she finally started to believe that it could really work, that she could do it.

Daenerys would be proud of this.

One day she will walk through the cities of Westeros like this. She will walk through King's Landing, without guards, through districts where poverty still reigns. One day it will change. Soon. Everything can be changed, it is possible to provide everyone with a job and a decent life.

The world has destroyed her, she will pay back by repairing it.

* * * And at that same moment in King's Landing, Tywin Lannister learned that Robb Stark's body had not been found after the Red Wedding. ~

-> Chapter XVI "Happy heart, broken heart" -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist

#game of thrones #robb stark #got #game of thones fanfiction #arthur dayne #daario naharis #daenerys targaryen #fanfiction

[bitchfromtheseventhhell]

Could you please do 'I forgot it was halloween so I didn't dress up and now you're making fun of me' for Jonerys please?

“you didn’t dress up,” jon says even before she gets in the car and dany freezes.

“dress up?”  dany looks down.  she looks nice, she thinks.  she’s wearing a new dress that she’d gotten on sale when she had taken missandei shopping for interview clothes the week before, and had spent the past hour getting her hair in order.  it’s the first time she’s meeting jon’s brother robb, who he never shuts up about.  it’s a party, jon had told her over text two days ago.  if you don’t have other halloween plans.

“it’s halloween,” jon replies. and it all falls into place.  of course he’d meant a halloween party, not a regular one.  of course he had.

“you’re not dressed up,” dany points out.

“i am,” jon says and he pushes his long dark hair out of his face and she can see a lightning scar painted there.  he pulls a pair of fake round glasses from the dashboard of his car and pops them on his face.  

“cute,” dany says as she gets in the car.

“subtle, really.  especially after they started getting the actors to wear normal clothes in the movie,” he says and his face changes.  “you can’t go to robb and theon’s party not dressed up as anything.”

“i don’t own any costumes, so it’s gonna have to happen,” dany shrugs, pulling on the seat buckle.  

jon looks at her, half astounded.  “you don’t own any halloween costumes?  what are you, scrooge?”

“that’s christmas,” dany says dully, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the window.  she waits for jon to turn the key in the ignition, but he doesn’t.  

“didn’t mean to tease,” he says at last.  “halloween’s a thing in my family.  like a real thing.”  she remembers.  she’s heard his story about dressing up as a ghost and covering himself in flour to freak out his younger siblings.

“i never celebrated growing up,” dany replies quietly.  “viserys never took me trick-or-treating or anything.  it’s just another day.”  she shrugs.

“is this gonna be your first halloween party?” jon asks her.

she looks at him.  his face is gentle now.  she nods.

“right,” he says.  “well...” he considers.  “i guess your look could be emma frost-ish if you wanted.”  he gives her a one over and she sees the way his eyes drink her in.  “but that’s only if you want.”

“emma frost...she’s one of magneto’s right?” dany’s already pulling out her phone to google it.  when the picture loads, she smiles and looks at him.  “if you can wait five minutes, i have an idea,” and jon nods and she’s out of the car again.  

five minutes was a bit of an underestimation, but it’s worth it.  gone is the demure blue dress she’d picked up at anthro and on with the small silver sheath she’d worn to her company’s holiday party the year before when she’d still been fucking daario and wanted him to never take his eyes off her.  she covers her eyes with silver eyeshadow and puts deep red on her lips.  then, with a sigh, she loosens the braids she’d spent so much time on so that the crimped hair falls in waves from behind a high silver headband.  but the time is worth it when she comes back out of the house and sees jon’s face as she marches towards his car and gets in again.  

“jesus,” he mutters, and she smiles at him and leans over the gearshift to kiss him.

“merlin,” she corrects.  “if you’re going to be harry potter, at least get the swears right.”

#gotfic #jonerys #jon x daenerys #rosered282 #halloween fic meme #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #this went in so many directions i hope it's ok