#viserys destroying his relationship with dany in order to go ‘home’ (viserys saying this (an army) is how we go home)

[aeriondripflame]

ON SIBLINGS, VISERYS & DAENERYS TARGARYEN.

george r.r. martin, a song of ice and fire. game of thrones (2011). steven berkoff, the fall of the house of usher. the crane wives — never love an anchor. jake55778, the house with the red door. james baldwin, giovanni’s room. the 100 (2014). fear street (2021). succession (2018). pierce brown, red rising.

[cinema-tv-etc]

‘Game Of Thrones’ Built Up Its Female Characters Just To Watch Them Fall

The women we championed for nearly a decade suffered confusing character shifts in the final season.

By Leigh Blickley   05/14/2019

Bells continuously chime as Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke), sitting atop her fire-breathing dragon Drogon, stares out at King’s Landing. She’s enraged, having recently watched Queen Cersei Lannister (Lena Headey) order the execution of her best friend, Missandei (Nathalie Emmanuel), shortly after her dragon-child Rhaegal was speared to death.

Before facing those losses, Dany fought the army of the dead, held her adviser Jorah Mormont (Iain Glen) as he took his last breath and discovered that her new love, Jon Snow (Kit Harington), was actually her nephew, the true heir to the Iron Throne. At this particular moment, she’s unhinged. And bells are ringing.  And ringing, and ringing.

With the Red Keep in sight, Dany snarls as she decides to forgo everything she’s become in favor of an old Targaryen tactic: “Burn them all.” She goes full villain in the penultimate episode of “Game of Thrones,” scorching enemies and innocents alike as she surrenders to madness.

Yet many viewers saw little forewarning that a character twist of this magnitude was coming, and her erratic change of heart was a punch to the gut. Instead of the satisfying conclusion of a long descent to depravity, Dany suddenly shifts modes, from a woman who graciously earned loyalty over seven seasons to a power-hungry monster who murders thousands of men, women and children.

Sure, she wasn’t always perfect, but the Daenerys Targaryen we knew was the fearless Mother of Dragons. She was Khaleesi, who united the Dothraki after the death of Khal Drogo (Jason Momoa), later rallying them to fight for her claim to the Seven Kingdoms. She was Mhysa, who freed the Unsullied and was lifted up by the slaves of Mereen. Dany rose from the ashes to break chains and then risked everything to protect Jon and the North from the Night King’s army.

To see a woman so fully represented over 70 hours of television, especially in a fantasy epic, was groundbreaking. But, with a final season of just six episodes, showrunners David Benioff and Dan Weiss decided that a couple of scenes were enough to turn the unburnt beauty bad ― and essentially muddied her yearslong journey.

The “Game of Thrones” audience had devoted so much time to Dany, and other characters, only to now watch Benioff and Weiss hurry along the ending (and move on to their “Star Wars” trilogy). Why couldn’t they, after spending nearly two years crafting the final season, show us Dany’s slow decline into madness? Why do we have to watch “Inside the Episode” to figure it all out?

Surely George R.R. Martin, who wrote the unfinished “Song of Ice and Fire” book series on which the HBO show is based, told Benioff and Weiss where he wanted the storyline to go: “Mad Queen” Dany destroys King’s Landing, demonstrating that humanity, not necessarily the dead, is the true enemy. The thing is, the showrunners decided to shorten the final two seasons of “Game of Thrones,” to seven and six episodes respectively, and rush through key plot points to reach Martin’s goal. And it’s turned into a bit of a nonsensical mess.

Sure, make Dany evil ― women can be monsters, too. We’ve certainly seen glimpses of her “madness” in the past, whether it be callously watching as her brother Viserys (Harry Lloyd) is killed by Khal Drogo in Season 1 or perhaps prematurely burning alive the father and brother of Samwell Tarly (John Bradley) in Season 7.

But whereas, lately, the show tells us what to think, the books present Dany’s inner monologue. Readers can see how she fights to shake her violent family history as not only her actions but her wide-ranging relationships with siblings, friends and lovers are described.

From “A Storm of Swords”:

“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.

Although “Game of Thrones��� used to give us more context around characters and their decision-making, once it passed the books’ timeline in Season 6, the series faltered a bit in terms of depth. It didn’t show us the intricacies of Dany’s small council, her romance with Jon or her friendship with Missandei, who is only a young girl in Martin’s novels. Perhaps if we saw the show’s version of Dany and Missandei have a meaningful conversation about fear or loneliness ― versus men and sex ― we would have understood Dany’s underlying fragility and why Missandei’s murder triggered a rage within her. Instead, we saw the one woman of color become a plot device to turn Dany, as well as her own lover Grey Worm (Jacob Anderson), to the dark side.

That’s all to say that the recent rushed storylines have prevented us from getting that nuance we previously used to connect the dots.

The same flaw also hurts other women on “Game of Thrones,” including Cersei, Brienne of Tarth (Gwendoline Christie) and Arya Stark (Maisie Williams).

Brienne is one of the strongest warriors in Westeros. She killed Stannis Baratheon (Stephen Dillane) and took down the 6-foot-6 Hound (Rory McCann) ― with a few solid punches, might we add. Yet she turned into a puddle of mush when Jaime Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) left her for Cersei ― something she would’ve never done three seasons ago. In one sense, it’s wonderful to see a vulnerable woman on screen. But Brienne ― who is rarely shown out of armor ― sobbing in a nightgown came out of left field. (Love makes us do crazy things?)

And Cersei was so shocked and afraid to meet her rubbly end during Episode 5, Season 8, that it’s easy to forget she once told Ned Stark (Sean Bean): “In the game of thrones, you win or you die.” The ruthless Cersei we’ve studied over eight seasons, the most cunning of the cunning, would’ve known to flee the city when she saw dragon fire (especially if she wanted to protect her unborn child). Or she would’ve at least had another plan in case those scorpion artillery weapons didn’t work out.

We’re not watching the most adventurous show in the world for uninventive writing. Yet here we are.

During the most recent episode, The Hound easily convinces Arya to go home and forget about killing Cersei. She hugs him goodbye, gives up on Cersei and tries to make it safely out of King’s Landing.

Eh, what? We’ve watched Arya train for years to become an assassin. She just destroyed the Night King with a stab of a dagger! She doesn’t fear death! She just traveled weeks to get to the capital for one sole purpose: to murder the woman who betrayed her family.

Too-fast, terribly thought-out writing has reduced “Game of Thrones” to a soap opera. We miss the scenes where Dany argues the advice of Ser Barristan Selmy (Ian McElhinney). Or when Arya secretly soaks up intel from Tywin Lannister (Charles Dance). Or how about when Sansa Stark feeds her abusive husband Ramsay (Iwan Rheon) to his own hounds?

Now we see a half-baked “Mad Queen” and a woman like Sansa crediting sexual violence, not her own strength, for making her a power player in Westeros.

THE HOUND: None of it would’ve happened if you left King’s Landing with me. No Littlefinger. No Ramsay. None of it.

SANSA: Without Littlefinger and Ramsay, and the rest, I would’ve stayed a little bird all my life.

It’s that bad.

Riddle me this: Why does a show featuring four leading ladies have barely any female writers? (Bonus: Michelle MacLaren was the only female director brought on to helm episodes, the last of which aired in 2014.) Although Gursimran Sandhu is credited as a staff writer for Season 8 on IMDb, only two other women, Jane Espenson and Vanessa Taylor, wrote for the series, with both of their runs ending by 2013. That, my little birds, is the root of a very big, now unfixable problem.

Espenson helped craft scenes like the aforementioned death of Viserys, and Taylor had a say in that memorable lunch between Sansa, Margaery (Natalie Dormer) and Olenna (Diana Rigg) as well as Arya and The Hound’s Brotherhood Without Banners meetup. Those back-and-forths soar in comparison to Season 8’s Sansa-Dany stares or Cersei’s unexplained cowardice.

Clearly, Sandhu couldn’t have singlehandedly saved the final season, but other women’s voices in the writers’ room might have provided more perspective into these characters’ closing motivations.

Still, Martin created these women, and Benioff and Weiss have shown they can write strong dialogue for them on this show. It just feels like the latter two’s desire to be in a galaxy far, far away perhaps trumped their desire to give these ladies what they deserve: earned arcs.

RELATED COVERAGE

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Why That Daenerys Twist On ‘Game Of Thrones’ Burns So Badly

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/game-of-thrones-women-daenerys-cersei-arya-sansa_n_5cd98811e4b0796a95dfd968

[poetdameron]

marked | jonerys [got] fic | jonerys week

Title: Marked Characters/Pairings: Jon/Dany, Sam, Sansa, Tyrion, Original Child Character, mentions of past relationships Rating: M Spoilers/Warnings: Mild Sexual Content, Soul Mate AU, Cunnilingus, R + L = J Word Count: ~6,333 Summary: Marks are not for bastards but Jon Snow had been born with one right on his chest, where anyone could see the three headed dragon. Daenerys Stormborn had been born, like all princesses, with a mark, hiden between her legs, on her right thigh. Why was her mark a wolf, she couldn’t understand. A/N: My computer crashed last night and it took a while to get her to work again. I got it back a couple of hours ago, but was busy with family dinner and so, and so, and that's why this is being posted so damn late.Yet, I'm happy I got to share this piece. I really liked it. And as for the day I lost *sighs*, I'll post it tomorrow or later today, I still have to revise that story. But I will post it, I promise! This was wrote for Jonerys week, day 6: Soulmates.

AO3 | Read on my blog:

Marked

Bastards are born without a mark, that Westeros thought. But Jon Snow was sure it wasn’t truth for he had been born with a mark that slowly became darker, letting see the house his destined person belonged to.

He knew of noble and recognized people with no marks, too. Sansa did not have a mark and she was no bastard, just like Bran didn’t had one and was no Snow. His Aunt Lyanna had been born without mark, no bastard either, and loved by everyone that still mourned her premature death.

So his mark was proof of nothing. He was still a Snow and would die one, and always alone for his mark was long dead and has been pointed out before it was fitting for him, to be marked with the three head dragon of the Targaryen house, for nothing was for him and no one will be.

Lord Father convinced him to not care for the mark, it was no indicator of nobility or happiness, just a guide. An option. While his sister Sansa resented him and Arya for their marks, Bran did not care, and Robb was not sure what his meant. Rickon had been too little to have recognition of his, but he had one, too.

And so, he decided to wear black and renounce to The Mark.

**

All princesses are born with a mark, included Daenerys Stormborn.

Her brother Viserys had told her all about them, they were marks that displayed her future Prince, a person who would wed her and father her children. She had been given birth with a blurry brownish stain between her legs, on her left thigh where no one but her Lord Husband would see it one day.

Viserys had told her his mark was special for it was the Targaryen sigil and it meant he was made to rule. She had listened to all of it, that bastards don’t get mark and those who are recognized and don’t have one, are destined to die at young age and she worried for the other children without marks she knew.

As she grow older, the stain started to take form, becoming darker and part of her skin, like engraved by an expert artist until her brother had opened her legs to see it.

“Stupid girl!” Was the first time he lay a hand on her and he never stopped ever since.

Daenerys didn’t understand why her brother had wanted to know her mark, it was supposed to be private and only for her husband to see. But he had became rage and fire the second he saw, and so she looked at it after he had left her warm and red in their refuge.

“No...” And she finally saw.

She saw the sigil of the usurper’s dogs, a wolf howling in her skin. How could life want her with the monsters that had destroyed her family? Was she made to be in pain, to be taken and defiled by Westeros forever? All she ever wanted was to go home.

To go home, wherever that red door was now.

**

In The Wall most men had no mark and Jon decided to hide his own, having a new life between brothers that dressed the same as him and responded to the same honor. It had costed him to get used to the great difference between the warm furs of his bed in Winterfell and how he got to sleep in here, but he wouldn’t change it, he didn’t wanted to.

So, he won’t have a mark.

“But you have one.” Sam insisted as they cleaned the tables, Jon shook his head. “You know what I would give to have one?”

“Why do you want one?” He asked. The mark had only brought more cruel jokes his way than anything, and the more he thought of it, the less he liked the concept of it. “It’s just… why would you want your entire life to be dictated by something so insignificant?”

“Well...” Sam had stopped cleaning, looking up as if thinking his answer. “It’s just-- It must be nice to know there may be someone for you at some point.” He smiled at him and Jon shook his head again. “Think about it a bit. You don’t have to make your life all about it, but it’s nice… you know, to know.”

Jon blinked a couple of times. The last person to know what his mark was had been his Father’s wife and she had offered the only explanation of it, that he did not have anyone at the end, for all people but one too old and marked differently were left of House Targaryen.

If he said word to Samwell Tarly about it, would his friend finally see the marks may not mean as much as people want them to? Would he stop all talk about it with him? Sam liked to talk, that and to read where the things he was best at, and Jon wouldn’t deprive him from one of the only two things he has left.

He stayed silent, until his friend asked to know what his mark was. Was it a great house? Or a minor one? An unknown symbol or words for very few people? Jon had always carry the sigil of his family’s enemy on his chest, there where anyone could see. How he managed to maintain it away from his brothers, he was not sure.

“It’s the Targaryen Sigil.” He said.

Sam stood quiet, big eyes wide open and his mouth in a O. It almost made him smile if not for the bittersweet flavor in his tongue. He kept his work and soon saw Sam joining him at least.

“It can’t be.” Sam said. “Are you sure of it?”

“I think I can recognize a three head dragon, Sam.”

“Uhm...” He seemed deep in thought, then looked at him again. “Have you heard what Maester Aemon had said?”

“He says a lot of things, Sam.”

“Yes, but he has talked of family at the other side of the sea.”

Jon chuckle, Sam had some imagination. “So what? Sam, we renounced to all that.” He sighed. “Even if that House was still standing today, there’s no one out there for me.”

“You are right.” His friend said after a long pause.

**

“It may mean you are destined to fight this man forever.” The witch had said before she entered the tend to heal her husband. “People are not only destined to love, they are destined to kill, to hate, to breed, and to so much more. It may your greatest enemy, your love lies here.”

He had been, and he was long gone. All those she had loved were gone, Drogo, Rheago, Viserys even. He had been cruel to her ever since the House Stark Sigil had cleared in her skin, but he had been still her brother, the only family she ever knew.

At night, when she was alone and dreamed of home, she would see him, younger and happier. He used to smile at her and pick up lemons that would fall from the tree outside her window, they would enter the house in hurry, to the kitchen where the cook would use them to make savored water. Those were happy times, somehow.

They never had money, their protectors could do so much for them. Viserys had to sell their Lady Mother’s crown and that was the end of her happy days. It was like if by renouncing to that jewel, they had renounced to the past she never knew, and ever since, they were alone.

Maybe that was why he had been so mad at her when he saw the mark, because he didn’t knew what she has been told now. He probably thought life wanted her to wed a traitor and not to fight him, as she would for now on until what was hers was returned and she could free her people from the wheel that kept them in suffering.

Viserys was no king, his mark was his grave for he had died a sad prince of the Targaryen. She and her dragon would be all he never was, Dany decided as she feed her Viserion. Her dragons would help her win every war she’ll had to endure in order to take back what was hers.

And she will fight forever the traitors if necessary. Her mark was one of war.

**

Ygritte had no mark.

Her warm body was filled with freckles and scars alike, her hair kissed by fire made her shine between snow and fire as they lied together to maintain their bodies away from the cold.

She had seen his mark and mocked it, speaking of how marks meant nothing to her people but weakness. No one belonged to anyone and those that coupled were each other’s choices, he find it better that way for his heart had chose her and wouldn’t let the ghost of a false future intervene between them.

Jon knew what was coming for them, that they would no last as he had a mission of his own and an oath to his people. She would never understand such things, but he hoped she would understand that his heart was hers, even if he would stay awake at night, feeling all alone as he always did since he knew the name of the emptiness inside him.

That was what he believed, at least. He fired her apart from the other fallen ones, her hair as precious as the flames around her, keeping her away from the Night’s King.

He wished he could dream of her, but he knew he wouldn’t. He dreamed he was Ghost, the white wolf running in the woods alone, eyes fixated on the moon, like if he wanted to reach her. She would look down at him and call, “come to me”, and he would run faster.

But he never reached her, she cried for him to come, and he never did.

“Ghost...” He said with his last breathe.

The moon was hovering full in the sky, stars her tears and cold his only company.

**

Dany dreamed of a young lover every now and then, always covered in shadows but more real than her actual lover, peacefully sleeping in her bed.

She looked at him, deciding if waking him up would be worth it. He was a good lover, better than other she has taken, but nothing else. She wanted to love Daario, had made herself believe she could, but Daenerys had long ago realized there was no such thing as to love one for you are no equal.

He had no mark, while Drogo had her mark at the bottom of his back, where his long braid had reached once. He had thought her that even the most powerful and loved of men could fall, and she was not going to do as well. Not today, not tomorrow. She had fight to win.

Standing, she put on her silk robe and walked away from the bed, hoping the fresh air of the night would clear her thoughts. Daenerys knew she had to left her lover behind and she felt nothing, the closer it got to that moment, the surer she was that Daario had mean nothing but warm sheets in the big picture.

It made her feel sad. Was she supposed to be ice? She was the blood of the dragon, her touch burned and her realm would prosper from the ashed of the old world; and yet her heart seemed stopped by the conditions of her past, and there was only place for her people, her friends and her children.

Maybe that was her only love, maybe she’ll be fine with that. Maybe the lover in her dreams would remind only her mind.

**

Winterfell had been home for a long time, he still thought of its walls and hallways as such. Even in the worst of the days, he had a childhood and siblings in it, a Father that listened to him and tried to make the best for him in his possibilities. And while he had been constantly reminded of his name, he had been seen as nothing but Stark and he always wished to be one.

He was no Stark still but called My King and Your Grace, and all those things people won’t call a bastard in normal settings. But he guessed, as he walked around the great salon, touching the cold wood and dusty places he had learned as a child, terrible circumstances called for extraordinary possibilities.

“I never apologizes for my behavior before,” Sansa started after a long silence as they stayed alone, sitting on the salon when everyone had left, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t knew better.”

“You were only a child.”

“I was a spoiled, stupid girl.” She said, Jon looked at her and saw that vacant expression she so often wore nowadays.

Sansa wore winter in her eyes, in her lips, her words, her globed hands, he perpetual serious face. The girl made of summer was long gone. She no longer begged the Gods for a mark and a prince that would father her beautiful princesses and princes, maybe she didn’t even believe anymore.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Was all he could offer. “But thank you, little sister.”

He never called her that before, the only little sister he knew before had been Arya. But now, they were the only ones. They had each other. Sansa looked at him, no smile, no shine in her eyes, but there were unshed tears in them and Jon swallowed.

“Don’t call me that, Jon.” She asked, sounding like a plea. “That’s Arya.”

Both wished she would be there, that a lot of people could be there. But they were the only ones now. Winterfell belonged to her and the North responded to his command. None had wanted this, but here they stood.

She took his hand, she often did when she thought she was losing him to the dark thoughts inside his head, and this time he didn’t felt strange nor irritated by it. They didn’t say a word again, and slowly went to their own thoughts.

The dead were walking to them, menacing on taking all they fought for. He could had become one of them but, somehow, his time had been restored even carrying the proof of his end.

Involuntary, his free hand went to his chest, were the mark of his Destined One was.

Ever since the mark had became clear, he never believed in it. He knew Sansa used to believe, hoping to find the one that would carry the Stark Sigil in his body that would belong to her morrows. She was looking at him now, observing the way he had touched where the mark still stood, even with the scar irrupting in its territory.

“Your mark...” She murmured. “I used to think it was strange, I still do.” Sansa said, her honesty didn’t come as a surprise. Everyone who knew about the three headed dragon thought so, included him. “I never asked you, but always wanted to...”

“What is it?”

She squeezed his hand and Jon looked at her, waiting. “Does it bothers you?” She said so low, he wouldn’t had hear her if they weren’t sitting side by side. “The mark of the dragon. It’s almost cruel to give you a mark of someone that may pretty much not exist. Why would-- why would the Gods allow it? You think it’s strange?”

“All marks are strange and a little unfair.” He answered, she tilted her head. “I don’t think it’s fair, the marks. Why wouldn’t you chose the one to love?”

“Well, in your case I guess you can chose.” She said, her eyebrows had moved high. “We, on the other hand, we have no many choices. Not most of us does, at least.” She looked away, and Jon understood her meaning. He swallowed, not knowing how he could assure his sister that she was safe now, she was free to do as she wished with her life for now on. “So, it bothers you?”

“I don’t believe in it.”

“Yet, it’s still in its place. Right?”

Jon blinked a couple of times, Sansa was smiling sightly. Maybe a part of her still believed. But who could deserve his sister? It made no sense.

“Aye, it does.” He answered, for both her questions. She seemed to understand.

**

Dragonston was covered in dust and gray clouds, even if the sun shone bright when they first arrived. Her children had settle better than all of them, her dothraki almost all sick from the sea and her small council unsure of how to proceed until she called table of all them, having Tyrion present their next move.

Her Hand was a wise man and good company. Dany had learned a lot from him, about Westeros and its remaining Lords, and his mad sister, the usurper queen. She understood his plays, she could not fly by and burn all to get what she wanted, it would make her no less than Cersei and she was here to be so much more, to be the hope this people longed.

No more orphaned children, raped women, stolen lives and starvation. No more blood once she sat on the throne, no more war, just work for peace. Peace for all people. That’s all she wanted.

“Tell me about this Jon Snow.” She told Tyrion as they sat alone in the war room once their Red Priestess guest had been settle in chambers of her own. “Is he as the red witch says?”

“I’ve hear of his accomplishments from her and Lord Varys’s birds, seems to be all true.” He answered. “He joined the Watch years ago, was a stupid boy trying to find his place in the world. Of course he would become king.”

There was a smile in Tyrion’s lips and eyes, whoever Jon Snow was, was someone he remembered with warm. He was a funny man, a good friend. But his smiles were strange, at least the genuine ones. All of them wore better a serious frown and respectful nods. It seemed like there was no time for friends and laughs, but this King In The North had brought a smile to her Hand.

“But he is no Stark.” She said, it was supposed to be a question but it also wasn’t quit so. Dany needed to be assured. “He is the last?”

“His sister, Sansa, is still alive, too.” He answered, finally looking at her. “You won’t tell me you mistrust my judgment now, after how far you have gotten. Their father may have fought against yours, but they will not be your enemy.”

“You appreciate them.” She assured, he only nodded. “So then tell me about them. If you appreciate them, they must be something. Make me see them differently from their father.”

Tyrion sighed, she found it entertaining to frustrate him a bit. He was exactly how she wished a brother would be. “I’ve told you all I know about Jon Snow, your Grace. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“Then tell me about Lady Sansa.”

He moved on his seat, sightly uncomfortable and something sparked inside her. “I would prefer not to. All you need to know is that she’s smarter than she looks. She has probably grow to be a beautiful and strong woman, too. You’ll like her.”

Dany nodded at that, taking a sip of her wine. “And would she like me?”

“Well, the last time we saw each other, she had plenty of trust issues, all justified. If all I heard about what she has gone trough is true, she may have her reservations at first.” He made a pause to drink of his own wine, then looked at her. “You’ll see them for yourself, I’m sure. But they are good people.”

“She is the one you were married to, isn’t she?” She asked, the hint of a smile could be heard in her voice.

“Gods...” He drank some more and she couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “She was, the poor thing.”

Dany tilted her head with a smirk. “Did you loved her?”

“No...” He answered, his hand was moving his cup and she wondered how much of this was true and how much was a lie. “She was only a child and I loved another at the time.” He drank the rest of the wine in one, long, gulp and Daenerys sighed, disappointed at how quick they had gone back to betrayals and old sad stories. “All I wanted was to protect her. No one in that nest of rats city would do so, and by having my name, she was a prisoner of my father and sister, and my nephew.” He explained. “But they wouldn’t touch her, as long as I was there… or that was the intention.”

She swallowed, Daenerys couldn’t help but feel sorry for what this girl had gone trough. She had been told her older brother had avenged the stain in her name and took back their home, giving it to her as he was chose to lead the North. If he bend the knee to her, she would give Lady Sansa and Tyrion the head of the woman that had wronged them for so long.

Jon Snow, as painted by others to her, sounded exceptional. And it made her a little it sad, to think there were older brothers protecting their little sisters, fighting men that had touched them, when hers had sold her away to a man she had learned to love through what was between her legs.

“Would you marry her again?”

“What?” He looked at her between surprise and amusement. “What are all these questions? Enough wine for you, my queen.”

She laughed, looking as he left his chair and walked over the wine, purring more into his coup and taking the bottle with him, away from her.

“If there’s something else in your head,” Tyrion said as he walked back to his place, “it’s time to say it. You know nothing will leave my mouth, you just say the words.”

I have a mark, she wanted to say, It’s the Sigil of House Stark. Daenerys wondered what would be Tyrion’s reaction. Westeroisi people thought of the mark a sing of love, would he think one of the reminding Stark belonged to her morrows?

“No.” She lied.

You’ve said Jon Snow is near my age, she could say, too. What if his mark matches mine? But if she do that, she’ll have to think of that possibility and not the one she has chose all those years ago. That she would fight her Destined One, not wed them. But if it was different, if it meant something else-- Then-- Then…

“Do you have a mark?”

Tyrion looked at her from the corner of his eyes, smirking. “Are we getting this private, now? If I recall, you’ve said that doesn’t matter.”

“So you have one.”

“I may.” He answered. “Just like you may.”

He was not telling her anything. She wondered if they had the same mark, since he had not answered her suggestion of re-marrying Lady Sansa having the opportunity. Or maybe she just wanted him to have it, too, so she would know what to do in case things were different. In case she meet her Destined One soon.

**

The Dragon Queen was warm. Her voice had been filled with steel the first time they met in her throne room, and the smell of blood was everywhere around the green of the grass when he stepped in, waiting for her arrival after she had left in the biggest dragon, the black beast called Drogon.

But she was warm to his touch now that she had been the first thing on his sight when he had woke up after facing death once again. If he had died, it was no doubt heaven would be her face and her voice, and the soft skin of her tiny fingers against his calloused ones.

Jon had wanted to ran from what he had started to feel as he saw her kindness to her people and the way they loved her, their loyalty to a woman who wanted nothing else but protect them and give them a home.

Soon he realized she had never knew home herself, she didn’t had a place in the world like he had felt for so long as he stood at top of The Wall and then walked beyond it, dressed in snow and smelling of sex for the first time. Like him, she understood what it was to build your own path for no God, no Lord, no nothing will give you one.

All that security and faith in herself was understandable, and a shield from the rocks throwed at her, too. He wanted to lower it, see her face, and now here they were.

Daenerys had been crying, he could see it in the tenderness of her eyes and red of her small nose. All of her was small, but not her spirit, not her wonder, not her voice, not her heart. She had left him after, he figured he had come too strong to her, all this was as new for himself.

He thought he had been in love before, and he had, but not like this. It felt different since the first time he had seen her, sitting still, like painted in silver with rays of gold in her walk and her stand. He thought her so beautiful, even if the rumors had come to him. And she had infuriated him right away.

But now, she was another. Real, more real than anybody has been before to him. She had entered his cabin again the next morning and, this time, she had took his hands and told him all about what he had missed as he slept.

Jon caught her looking at his body, at his chest, and soon he wanted to cover himself or make her close her eyes. But it was too late. Not only had she seen the scars he tried to maintain away from her and anyone in the hopes they would disappear, making all that had happened just a bad dream, but his mark, too. The symbol of her house, of her.

“Is that…?” She was moving her hand to his peck, then stopped and looked at him. “Your mark?”

He nodded, and her hand finally touched it. She traced the circle the dragon’s body and three heads formed, and stopped at the scar, following down to form the half moon it was. Jon said nothing, she soon put her entire palm over his chest, surely feeling the beat of his heart.

“You have a beat...” She looked up at him again, he hadn’t noticed she was now sitting on the bed with him. “I was told… I was told the returned didn’t.”

“The priestess that did it said I was special.” He shrugged. “Didn’t want to know more… But she brought me back, and I had the strength to fight again.”

“And you came to me.” She murmured, not looking at his face anymore but at the mark again. She caressed it once more and swallowed visibly. “I’m the last dragon.”

“Aye.”

“I have a mark, too.” Dany was looking at him again, her eyes were shining with too many emotions he wanted to find one by one in the rest of her body, in her lips, in her sighs, in her laugh and her sleep. “It’s… It’s...”

Jon smiled, it felt like the first time he smiled in a very long time, even if he had been doing so around her a lot lately. She didn’t need to say it, he knew. So he took both her hands in his and kissed them, she shivered a little and Jon looked up immediately, hoping she won’t run again.

It must had shown in his face, since she started to shook her head in urgency, a single tear going down her face. “I won’t, I won’t.”

He dried her tear with his hand and hold her near his chest, until she rested her head and weight on his body, and his arms rounded her. She was warm and small, and smelled like everything alive, green and shinning.

Dany didn’t cry again after, they stole a touch or two from time to time, and agreed to sail together to his home.

**

“What…?”

“Shhh...”

Daenerys could tell him he had no right to shut her, she could tell him to come back and kiss her some more, that all he needed to do was to get inside her and take them into oblivion as their bodies collided deliriously again and again.

She had missed him. Not many nights had passed since they last lied together, but he had been away, consumed by doubt and tragedy. He seemed to live in the shadows, like her dream lover had been, feeding on sorrow until his mind was made and his soul needed to breathe.

This time, though, she had searched for him. Daenerys was tired to just wait and she knew, no matter her Hand’s advice, that he had needed her maybe since the beginning. But that was done now, she could only try and provide comfort to him, let it be as a lover or as blood of his love.

“What are you doing?” She questioned a little alarmed, no one had kissed her so near her core before, almost were her mark was. Was he searching for it? She had promised to herself to show him soon, but those plans had been ruined by the news that had come.

Come morrow, they were marching to The Wall, back on direction were her precious Viserion had lost his life and returned in the hands of the evil itself. They were going to crush his army and stop him from taking away anything else from them and their people.

But tonight, they had finally get together. His chamber wasn’t as big as a King’s should be, but it smelled all like him and Dany immediately felt safer inside when she stepped in. He had looked at her between surprised and pleased, as she waited for him to talk or let her hold him.

He had put his mind at peace about something he always knew, that Eddard Stark was his father even if he didn’t carry his name and that his mother must had have a reason to not have a place to him. He had been brought to this world in love, and in love for him and his father, his mother had went, leaving him in the care of that he will always call Father.

And he was a dragon, too. She wanted him to embrace that, too. But as Tyrion had suggested, one step at the time.

Right now, she lied on his bed with his between her legs, kissing her right thigh as he hand opened her wide for his explorations. She had undress him this time, kissing his body as he had kissed hers the first time, and yet he was searching for her pleasure more than he wanted his.

He kissed over her core, not quit touching it, but traveling to her left thigh, slowly filling it with more of his small, wet kisses, until he stopped. Her heart was already beating itself out of her body when she remembered what lied there and she lifted her upper body to see his face.

Jon’s eyes were fixated on her mark, his fingers brushing it as if confirming it won’t fade away. Daenerys swallowed as he slowly looked up at her, asking.

“I was… I told you before, I have a mark.”

“I can see that.”

“What furter proof could you ask for?” She said, smiling at him. A dragon birthed and raised by wolfs, their marks matched their souls and he smiled at her, lowering his face without darting his eyes from hers until his lips touched her skin and she moaned a bit. “What-- what are you doing?”

“I’m kissing you, my Queen.” He murmured over her core and his breathe made her shiver, almost closing her legs around his face, but his hands were still holding her open. His fingers opened her folds and her heart beat faster. “I love you.” He said, and before she could answer him, his tongue found her clit and rubbed it softly.

Dany moaned louder than she remembered doing before, she almost wanted to silence herself but when she had stopped, he had lifted his hand, indicating with his fingers to not stop and she would had laughed if it wasn’t for his tongue entering her and making her moan almost in a scream.

He kept pleasing her for what fell like a lifetime until her orgasm came and she had moaning his name loudly.

She hoped he knew she loved him. She loved him so much, she wanted the world to know they had been marked for each other, that he was hers as she was his, and there was no force that would kept her apart from him again.

**

Dany’s mark was the Stark House’s Sigil, and his mother was Lyanna Stark. He looked down at his Queen’s round belly and for the first time, hoped the Gods would send them a girl.

“A girl?” She had smiled wide. “Makes sense, I would love to have a daughter and braid her hair, hear her sing, and make her dresses that would match mine.”

“You’ll do that to our daughter.” He said playfully, carrying their oldest as he was learning to walk but had discovered the thrill of running around. “She’ll grow up a beautiful princess, will fight like a knight.”

“I’m sure her aunts would love to teach her tender and teach her stark.” She laughed and Jon smiled at her, leaning down to kiss her forehead, Aemon yelled ‘no’ and he rolled his eyes, looking at his son who was returning his gaze with a scowl. “Look at my prince, he loves me so much.”

“That’s my wife, little boy.”

“No!” He said again, this time asking for his mother’s arms. Dany laughed, opening her arms to their son.

Aemon could barely speak and was still learning to walk, they way he ran was that of a baby duck, but his love for his Lady Mother surpassed anything else. He laid on his mother’s chest, who looked at him from their bed, the sight inviting him to join them and never leave the bed.

“What name would you give your little sister?” He heard her ask Aemon, he had gone over the vanity to leave the heavy crown and undress for bed. The babe didn’t answer, and Jon smiled as he heard Daenerys laugh.

It was so common nowadays, have her smiling and laughing when they were outside the throne room and the small council. She would walk the streets of King’s Landing holding Aemon with two guards and Missandei at her back, him at her side, crown staying put on her head in elegance and rightfulness, and people would smile at her, offer her gifts and flowers for her and their child.

They often did this to teach Aemon how real the people around him was, so one day he would grow up and keep all they have fought for in its place, be wiser than them when needed, kinder. He saw the little boy and he saw love, he saw their union and their hope. And now a second one will come.

“What name would you give her?” She asked him as he walked to his side of the bed, Aemon was falling asleep and he knew they’ll have him waking them up too early in the morning or he’ll wet the bed.

“If you like, Lyanna.” He answered for her mark was a wolf and his mother was a Stark. “What name would you give her?”

Dany smiled instead, moving her lips in a mocking pout as he sat on the bed. He leaned forward and kissed her lips, her smile widened and she kissed him back, their child fast asleep at his mother’s side.

She laid down on the bed, moving to find her most comfortable spot until she was giving him her back and he covered them three, four, with the sheets, putting an arm around her, his hand resting on her roundness. He usually had the chance to feel their child moving inside her, and tonight he hoped would be the case again.

“Lyanna would be.” She answered.

“And what if we have another boy?”

“We’ll call him Robb.” She answered turning her face sightly to look at his eyes, her nose touching his.

“Robb?”

“I know you want a son named Robb, like your brother.” She answered, so long ago he had told her about that, when they thought the war was over and they would die in the cold, fighting the dead.

But they were here now, and she had giving him a beautiful and healthy boy, and their second would be as wonderful, whatever name it got.

Jon smiled, kissing her face as she closed her eyes.

“I do.” He answered. His hand moved from her belly and he caressed Aemon’s little cheek, hoping he would sleep peacefully. “Have you seen his mark?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “What do you think it is?”

“Happiness, hopefully.”

Dany smiled at him, happy as ever, welcoming his kiss when he leaned to her. She had been engraved on his skin since he had been a babe, and for the longest time, he never thought they would find each other.

Hopefully, their sons and daughters would find their own one day, marked or not.

[sheikah]

The pro-Daenerys and pro-Sansa meta no one asked for.

So I felt compelled to write this in response to the growing ugliness between the Jonerys and Jonsa fandoms. It’s something that puzzles me and makes me sad. It’s no secret to anyone that I am a Jonerys shipper, but that doesn’t mean I dislike Sansa as a character or hate the Jonsa ship in general. What does bother me, though, is the constant bickering over which will be canon, and the constant attacks from each side aimed at the female protagonists in an attempt to devalue the opposing ship. 

I don’t understand these attacks and to me they just perpetuate the damaging tradition of female competition over a man. I realize all of this is fictional, but in most cases of the Jonerys/Jonsa feud I see people tearing down Dany or Sansa in order to legitimize the ship in question by saying that Jon could only be with Dany because Sansa is weak or only be with Sansa because Dany is evil, etc. What’s worse, I stumble upon a lot of fics where the main conflict is a love triangle in which usually Dany but sometimes Sansa becomes a villain character. Think about this for a second. A complex, interesting, multi-layered female character who is not canonically a villain in either case being used as a mere obstacle to a romantic ship, thereby creating a love triangle and feminine competition that doesn’t--and probably won’t--canonically exist. Maybe it’s the feminist in me screaming, but that makes me so, so sad.  Now, fic writers can and should write whatever they want, and I am actually a huge fan of the love triangle trope. But in this case, it is being fabricated out of thin air and the end result is a lot of hate thrown at these women because of imagined scenarios in which they fight over Jon Snow.  So now that I have given you this lengthy preamble, here’s a post about why, as far as I’m concerned, that would never happen--because Dany and Sansa are actually very similar. I believe that both women are confident by this point of the series and would not chase a man who is divided in his feelings for them and, in my opinion, they would actually be great friends.

1. Dany loves and protects women.

I feel like the idea of Dany fighting Sansa for Jon’s affection goes fundamentally against her character. 

Dany would not try to destroy another woman’s happiness that way. We have seen her defend other women and display a special concern for women on several occasions. 

In season 1, Dany used her power and influence to save the women in the shepherd village from rape at the hands of the Dothraki. We all know how this turned out, but it is the first instance of her trying to stand up for women and establish them as something more than property in Dothraki culture. 

In season 3, Dany makes it a point to save Missandei from Master Kraznys and take her into her care. This is not something she needed to do. She doesn’t need a translator and was easily able to take the Unsullied without Missandei’s assistance or friendship. But she saw how Missandei was mistreated and wanted the opportunity to give her a better life. The famous line, “But we are not men,” just further illustrates Dany’s awareness of the plight of women in this culture and her desire to fix that. 

In season 6, when Dany is held captive by the Dothraki horde and has been placed with the Dosh Khaleen, she is kind to the young, widowed khaleesi who brings her outside the tent, understanding and sympathizing with her situation. 

But these women seem to love their chains--they feel the Dosh Khaleen is not a terrible situation to be in. They are an obstacle to Dany’s freedom but she understands their reluctance to question their status and doesn’t view them as her enemies. She liberates them, only burning the khal’s men who sought to harm her.

Finally, at the end of season 6, Dany forms an alliance with Yara Greyjoy, knowingly and willingly establishing another woman as leader of the Iron Islands. While a woman like Cersei sees other queens as dangerous competition, Dany seeks to aid, protect, and elevate other women. 

We have no reason to assume that she would treat Sansa Stark any differently, and (as I will argue below) their similarities would probably lead to a meaningful friendship if they spent enough time together. 

2. Sansa craves (and deserves) friendship.

Sansa’s character has changed noticeably through the course of the series. I would argue that the only person to change more is Jaime Lannister. When we first meet Sansa she is selfish and a little rude. But I can’t fault her for this--she’s a teenage girl, and one who starts the series in a place of considerable privilege. 

But when that is taken away from her, Sansa becomes noticeably kinder and more understanding of other people. While she used to be annoyed by and somewhat mean to Arya, the loss of her little sister seems to affect Sansa and she misses that companionship. 

She first tries to replace it with Margaery Tyrell, who seems to care genuinely for Sansa’s wellbeing--something Sansa isn’t used to at court, where everyone has questionable motives and hidden agendas. Sansa and Margaery’s friendship was sweet and offered us a glimpse of a happy, grateful young girl who was giddy at the prospect of marrying Loras Tyrell and eager to develop a closer friendship with Margaery. 

Again, as we all know, that doesn’t exactly go according to plan, and Sansa’s next option is Shae. While Shae is only her handmaiden, Sansa seems to trust her and is thankful for her support in moments like the one when Sansa starts her period and tries desperately to hide it from Cersei. She doesn’t have a mother to talk to or a sister or any close friends, so she relies on Shae to help her. In this moment, Shae does. Shae tries to protect Sansa and even tells Tyrion that she loves the younger girl. 

But jealousy sours this relationship when Shae believes that Tyrion actually wanted his marriage to Sansa, causing so much trouble that Tyrion is forced to remove Shae from Sansa’s service, leaving her alone again. 

After that happens, Sansa is left with no one but Tyrion himself, and after Joffrey’s death her only ally is Petyr. He cannot fulfill the role of friend and confidant because their relationship is very sexually-charged and he clearly sees Sansa as a younger, lovelier version of Cat--his lost love. Yet Petyr throws her into the Bolton’s clutches where it becomes immediately apparent that Sansa’s only friends are the rugged Northerners. But Ramsay puts a stop to that very quickly when he flays the woman who tries to help Sansa, and with no one but the Boltons themselves, Theon as Reek, and Myranda, Sansa is alone again. 

Sansa has almost given up on finding someone who can truly be her friend, as evidenced by her very well-placed distrust of Myranda from the beginning. 

This is why Sansa is so willing to forgive Theon and to accept Brienne’s service the second time--because she has realized how lonely and desperate she is for a companion, someone to trust. 

At the end of the day, Sansa is like a lot of us. A girl who fantasized about a beautiful life and grew up to realize it hardly works out that way for anyone. This experience hardened her. She is stronger and smarter than ever before but she isn’t heartless and still needs other people in her life. So I feel like meeting a woman like Dany wouldn’t arouse territorial feelings of jealousy in Sansa, who we already know doesn’t want to take the Iron Throne. Instead, she would see a kindred spirit--a woman who has also suffered, been used by men, lost everything, but emerged victorious and strong. 

3. Dany and Sansa have a lot in common. 

Although they lived very different lives and followed very different paths, Dany and Sansa have a lot of similarities that make both women such interesting and enjoyable characters to watch and read about. 

Both women have had, at one point or another, magical creatures: Dany’s dragons and Sansa with Lady the direwolf.

Both women have lost their parents. Both women have lost two brothers. 

Both women have been raped, if we are going by the show!universe. Dany was raped on her wedding night by the khal. Sansa was raped on her wedding night by Ramsay.

Both women entered into marriage arrangements to advance themselves politically so that they might avenge their families and take back their rightful homes. Dany, at Viserys’s behest, married Drogo for his army so that she might overthrow Robert Baratheon and take back her kingdom. Sansa married Ramsay at Petyr’s behest so that she might ingratiate herself to Ramsay and eventually take Winterfell for herself.

Both women have vengeful streaks, and it’s badass. Dany and Sansa aren’t murderous villains, but they recognize the necessity of violence as a means to an end and as a tool of vengeance. Dany’s burning of the slavers’ fleet was one of the most intense moments in the entire series and I will never forget it. It was also amazing when Sansa had Ramsay killed by his own hounds in an epic display of poetic justice.

Both women are still softhearted and loving despite their many hardships. We can still see love and compassion in Dany’s treatment of her friends and her dragons. I especially liked her gesture of giving Tyrion the Hand of the Queen pin, and her decision to forgive Jorah and urge him to save himself. Sansa displayed similar kindness in her gesture of sewing Stark clothing for Jon to symbolize his true status as a member of her family. 

4. Their friendship would be mutually beneficial, and also really sweet ^.^

Last but not least, here are my cheesy ass headcanons about what would happen if these two spent a significant amount of time together at King’s Landing or Winterfell, and became friends. 

--Dany seeing snow for the first time, and Sansa--who is apparently the Westeros Champion Snow Castle Architect--showing her how to sculpt things in it. 

--Sansa showing Dany how to wear her hair with more of it down in the Northern style, and Dany fixing Sansa’s hair in intricate braids. 

--Dany giving Sansa advice about men and sex, since poor Sansa has not had a positive sexual experience yet. 

--Sansa being a welcome and valued member of Dany’s council meetings, because Sansa’s time at court is a valuable asset and Dany recognizes that. 

--Both of them swapping funny but totally endearing stories about what it is like to live with Tyrion, the hilarious wino. Tyrion being super uncomfortable that his two favorite gals are always walking around arm-in-arm giggling and whispering conspiratorially in his direction. 

--Both of them being girl power af and disrupting the fuck out of the patriarchy by making the most important decisions and strategizing like a couple of bosses.

--Trying to borrow each other’s clothes, but Sansa’s are hilariously big for Dany because of the height difference, and Dany’s dresses show even more skin on Sansa and are totally impractical in the Northern climate. So Sansa, expert seamstress extraordinaire, sews Dany some nice furs. 

--Both women being important parts of Jon’s life, and vice versa, and all of them working together to leave the world better than they found it because that is literally like Dany’s motto now.  

Wow, okay, so if you read all of that, thanks for being interested in my ramblings. Hopefully I convinced someone that we should all love each other and be friends lol. I know none of those headcanons will happen because there is no time for people to be cute and friendly with a war happening and everything. But a girl can dream.

P.S. My super-smart bff @oadara expressed interest in my ideas on this, so I’m tagging her now :D