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“dany smiled shyly. it was sweet to laugh. she felt half a girl again.”

— commission done by @/meiuchuu on twitter

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On the Shore By Fidus

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hi, do you have a set of images for daenerys and rhaego? i saw a few in a video edit which were credited to you and thought they were so pretty, but i can’t seem to find them on your blog. thank you 🩷

Hii love, thank you!! You’re probably referring to a little comic I did for a Daenerys project back in December.

Here are the pages of Daenerys and Rhaego:

And here’s the link to the full thing🫂

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"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩."

"𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴?"

"𝘕𝘰. 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳."

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to no one's surprise there were a lot of asks for Danny

Most of her appearance references are from the Quarth section so I went with that. You know the vibe; 15, pale skin, silver hair, purple eyes and short hair because she burned it when stepping into the pyre at the end of AGOT. Also, I like thinking that her eyebrows and eyelashes are so light they're almost invisible. It gives off that big-eyed fawn vibe.

The rest of the lineup is looking a bit like?????

as you can see i am Very Decisive.

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fav manipulator who gave birth to The Hatman that one time.

so the lineup changed again because um. someone requested my problematic queen cercei so i had to shove all the lannisters in one box and cheat to make space for Brienne. Ye!

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"A hedge knight is the truest kind of knight."

People in the fandom have been obsessing for ages with "Fire and Blood" from Daenerys' concluding chapter in A Dance With Dragons and what it means for her crusade through the whole of Essos in The Winds of Winter, yet they never bring up how within that very same chapter Daenerys is compared to hedge knights, a wandering knight without a master. Now what does that mean for her fire and blood crusade through the entire continent of Essos and her coming to Westeros in The Winds of Winter.

Viserys told her tales of knights so poor that they had to sleep beneath the ancient hedges that grew along the byways of the Seven Kingdoms. Dany would have given much and more for a nice thick hedge. Preferably one without an anthill.

"A hedge knight is the truest kind of knight, Dunk. Other knights serve the lords who keep them, or from whom they hold their lands, but we serve where we will, for men whose causes we believe in."

"Are there no true knights among you?" The story is fundamentally and ultimately about knighthood, and Daenerys is performing the duty of a knight as queen on the other side of the world, to protect the weak with the power of a sword, "Why do the Gods make kings and queens if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?", "she could have tried, she could have died."

And the reference to hedge knights is the conclusion to the paragraph that alludes to the Others.

“Remember who you are, Daenerys,” the stars whispered in a woman’s voice. “The dragons know. Do you?” The next morning she woke stiff and sore and aching, with ants crawling on her arms and legs and face. When she realized what they were, she kicked aside the stalks of dry brown grass that had served as her bed and blanket and struggled to her feet. She had bites all over her, little red bumps, itchy and inflamed. Where did all the ants come from? Dany brushed them from her arms and legs and belly. She ran a hand across her stubbly scalp where her hair had burned away, and felt more ants on her head, and one crawling down the back of her neck. She knocked them off and crushed them under her bare feet. There were so many … It turned out that their anthill was on the OTHER side of her wall. She wondered how the ants had managed to climb over it and find her. To them these tumbledown stones must loom as huge as the Wall of Westeros. The biggest wall in all the world, her brother Viserys used to say, as proud as if he’d built it himself.

Because the Others were created as the kingsguard of the children of the forest and they serve as the masters of the dead animated by hate and vengeance, "valar morghulis" - "valar dohaeris." They're perfect knights who perform their vow all too well because "cold preserves", in contrast to the human stories where the characters get entangled in the contradictions and unintended consequences that arise from trying to follow the vows in reality instead of dreams. You'll always fail some. But they won't, because they have a single vow that dooms all. They're not a race with its own culture or anything (as GRRM said we will certainly learn their history, but he's "not sure they have a culture") but the cold knights, the ghost knights, which is why GRRM's preferred term for them, "white shadows", is used for both the kingsguard and Jon Snow's direwolf "Ghost" within the story.

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.

And against the ghost knights too perfect to be fallible at their vow, a true knight stands and wields the sword of fire, imperfect because she's human, a wandering knight who serves where she will and will come and go as she pleases.

Dany would have given much and more for a nice thick hedge. Preferably one without an anthill.

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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.

Artist: NastyNastyacg

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King Dany

Ever since A Dance With Dragons was new the fandom has been whining about Daenerys' struggle to rule in Meereen and how it proves GRRM must've been trying to show Daenerys is unfit to rule through depicting those struggles. Yet it is playing on the motifs from the most ancient origin of fantasy and GRRM's pre-Tolkien Boyshit sword and sorcery influence, Conan the Barbarian and his very first story about how he became Conan the King. It is a fundamental part of the Conan mythology and chronology that, after ages of wandering, Conan becomes king in the west and, after making his kingdom prosperous, goes back to wandering the world once more.

"Prospero," said the man at the table, "these matters of statecraft weary me as all the fighting I have done never did." "All part of the game, Conan," answered the dark-eyed Poitainian. "You are king—you must play the part." "I wish I might ride with you to Nemedia," said Conan enviously. "It seems ages since I had a horse between my knees—but Publius says that affairs in the city require my presence. Curse him! "When I overthrew the old dynasty," he continued, speaking with the easy familiarity which existed only between the Poitainian and himself, "it was easy enough, though it seemed bitter hard at the time. Looking back now over the wild path I followed, all those days of toil, intrigue, slaughter and tribulation seem like a dream. "I did not dream far enough, Prospero. When King Numedides lay dead at my feet and I tore the crown from his gory head and set it on my own, I had reached the ultimate border of my dreams. I had prepared myself to take the crown, not to hold it. In the old free days all I wanted was a sharp sword and a straight path to my enemies. Now no paths are straight and my sword is useless. "When I overthrew Numedides, then I was the Liberator—now they spit at my shadow. They have put a statue of that swine in the temple of Mitra, and people go and wail before it, hailing it as the holy effigy of a saintly monarch who was done to death by a red-handed barbarian. When I led her armies to victory as a mercenary, Aquilonia overlooked the fact that I was a foreigner, but now she can not forgive me. "Now in Mitra's temple there come to burn incense to Numedides' memory, men whom his hangmen maimed and blinded, men whose sons died in his dungeons, whose wives and daughters were dragged into his seraglio. The fickle fools!" "Rinaldo is largely responsible," answered Prospero, drawing up his sword-belt another notch. "He sings songs that make men mad. Hang him in his jester's garb to the highest tower in the city. Let him make rimes for the vultures." Conan shook his lion head. "No, Prospero, he's beyond my reach. A great poet is greater than any king. His songs are mightier than my scepter; for he has near ripped the heart from my breast when he chose to sing for me. I shall die and be forgotten, but Rinaldo's songs will live for ever. "No, Prospero," the king continued, a somber look of doubt shadowing his eyes, "there is something hidden, some undercurrent of which we are not aware. I sense it as in my youth I sensed the tiger hidden in the tall grass. There is a nameless unrest throughout the kingdom. I am like a hunter who crouches by his small fire amid the forest, and hears stealthy feet padding in the darkness, and almost sees the glimmer of burning eyes. If I could but come to grips with something tangible, that I could cleave with my sword! I tell you, it's not by chance that the Picts have of late so fiercely assailed the frontiers, so that the Bossonians have called for aid to beat them back. I should have ridden with the troops."

"And Dion thinks that crown will be given to him?" "Yes. The fat fool claims it by reason of a trace of royal blood. Conan makes a bad mistake in letting men live who still boast descent from the old dynasty, from which he tore the crown of Aquilonia. "Volmana wishes to be reinstated in royal favor as he was under the old regime, so that he may lift his poverty-ridden estates to their former grandeur. Gromel hates Pallantides, commander of the Black Dragons, and desires the command of the whole army, with all the stubbornness of the Bossonian. Alone of us all, Rinaldo has no personal ambition. He sees in Conan a red-handed, rough-footed barbarian who came out of the north to plunder a civilized land. He idealizes the king whom Conan killed to get the crown, remembering only that he occasionally patronized the arts, and forgetting the evils of his reign, and he is making the people forget. Already they openly sing The Lament for the King in which Rinaldo lauds the sainted villain and denounces Conan as 'that black-hearted savage from the abyss'. Conan laughs, but the people snarl."

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Dany by ViviAytch

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Dany my dear

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Hello! Sorry to bother you, wanted to ask if you’d mind posting your gorgeous stunning jaw-dropping dany and rhaego art here. No worries if you prefer not to, you don’t have to respond. Thanks and you’re a great artist

If people ask for blood, it is my duty to spill it

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Drogon looped his neck around to nip at her hand. His teeth were very sharp, but he never broke her skin when they played like this.

Drogon to complete the set of Dany with her babies

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Dany in Qarth

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and nothing's gonna save you before the curtain call

this is the death of you

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She stroked Rhaegal. The green dragon closed his teeth around the meat of her hand and nipped hard

Decided to work matching portraits for the remaining of Dany's children, so here's Rhaegal

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Phoenix

A speedpaint video of this will be available at my Patreon soon 😊