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“You do not owe me your freedom. I cannot give it to you. Your freedom is not mine to give. It belongs to you and you alone. If you want it back, you must take it for yourselves. Each and every one of you.”

– Daenerys | 3.10 Mhysa

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i love daenerys targaryen » [15/?]

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They call me Giantsbane. Want to know why?

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Daenerys Appreciation Week - Hope I   h o p e   I   d e s e r v e   i t .

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Are you certain you never heard this tale before…?

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“They’re not beasts to me.”

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Lagertha in Treachery (2.03)

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Rhaego Targaryen: Imagined Game of Thrones fan art by Morgainelefee

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where :   daenerys’ chambers when :   mid morning who :    @sncwfur  /  jon snow

even after the marriage announcement and the reunion with her son , the deep-set fear that found root within her at her last meeting with the lord commander wouldn’t let itself be forgotten.     how could they when he’d spoken of a world - ending force that no one else had knowledge of ?  even so , there was little that could be done now.  a mythical threat wouldn’t appease her brother.  not when there were seemingly bigger things to take care of.  

but she was to be queen , and held power of her own.  and what little of it her brother would allow her she’d put towards this cause.  it was why she’d summoned jon snow to her chambers that morning.  their meeting previously had been a revelation to the young woman , but logistics and plans were needed for them to be successful.  

she’d just finished laying out maps and note papers when a knock came at her door.   ❝   come in.    ❞

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Tormund Gianstbane in 8x04

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rhaego targaryen.

A look of skepticism seemed to cross his mother’s features as she gazed upon him, not that he could entirely blame the woman. After all, when Rhaego had been born, the witch Mirri Maz Duur had told her that he had been born deformed, and dead. Told his mother that when she touched him his flesh fell away, and inside were grave worms. He remembered every detail of the story because it had been all that he had known - the Red Priestess who had saved his life had done well to imprint in his mind who he was and where he came from, and how the witch wronged him because of her want for vengeance on his fathers Khalasar, because she loathed the Dothraki, because her temple had been burned to the ground and she had been raped by the riders. The blood of his father and his ancestors ran thick in his veins, he knew that the woman had more than enough reason to be angry but also knew that she had no right to betray his mother as she had, not after Daenerys had saved her life, spared her. It did not matter if the witch thought her life worth living after that or not, she had been saved. She should have been doing everything in her power to save him when he had been born mangled.

But the Witch had lied to her. Not entirely, but lied about his wings, lied about his blindness, lied about his death and the way his skin fell away from his bones. He had been born disfigured, with scales along his body and the remains of a tail, the tail of a dragon. The boy had been born half a dragon, half a human. The Red Priestess who had cared for him told him that such things were common for Targaryen women, but did not explain why. But he would have died if the Priestess had not got into contact with the Witch and bought him. He was healthy, or as healthy as he could be given what the magic had done to him, but he seemed fine. The only downside was the never sleeping and the voices. He had little to no care about the rest.

He watched his mother descend from her spot safely tucked away on the podium surrounded by guards. Of course, with the Khalasar he had brought with him to offer aid to his mother’s cause, the few guards that sat around the Royal family and what he guessed were other important Lords and Ladies would stand no chance. The Khalasar were incredible fighters, their only downside was the fact that they refused to wear armor. It was where Rhaego differed from them, wearing armor that the Red Priestess had designed for him, intricated with black and red swirls. On one shoulder was a black horse, on the other, a red dragon. A show of his parentage, his blood.

Once the woman had reached close enough for her to bask in the glory of his stallion, the young Khal easily hoisted himself down; every movement as graceful as the most skilled dancers, body moving as if without thought. His feet hit the ground with a soft thud, the dust rising off the ground and surrounding his feet. With her up close, Rhaego could finally analyze her face, scan her features and memorize them, tuck them away for another time, for another heartache. He was still but a boy on the inside, and many off his real memories existed in the short timespan he had been with his mother. He could remember it vaguely, believe it or not. Could picture her face and hear the gasps of the people around them, knew that something was wrong before it had begun to happen.

He can’t fully remember what happened on that day but knew enough to know that without the Priestess that had come for him, he would have died. KNew too that his age was the product of an accidental spell, something that had been one of their last attempts at saving the baby and healing him from all the different things that had been wrong with him at birth : the scales… The tail… He wishes that there was a way for him to actually see what it had been like. To see the dragon scales on his skin, to have a tail as his other siblings did. It was scary to think that his siblings were just like he had been when he was born. He wondered how alike they would have been, wondered what color scales he had possessed, how long and what color was his tail All these questions and with no answers.

Gentle hands raise out, taking dainty hands within his own. Win her trust then steal her throne. His head shakes, casting a thought into the crevices of what he hoped was his mind, a smile coming onto his lips. You are meant to be great, and greatness does not bend the knee. His head dips, face not giving way to the effort put into keeping his mouth shut about the things happening within his own mind. “It is me, Mama.” Her people will judge her for accepting you. You must punish them. “I have been searching for you for moons now. It’s been too long - years, I fear. My story is long and it is complicated, but I hope that you believe and accept my parentage.”

It was foolish to believe that she would simply fall to her knees and trust that anyone who happened to have a similarity to the Dothraki and the Targaryen’s could be her son. Magic could clearly be used for some pretty serious things, his age proof enough, so it was just as easy to use it for the small things. Anyone could be disguised as what she would expect her son to look like as an adult. Rhaego would not have blamed his mother for turning her back on them and deeming him to be a monster, to not have looked further into what had happened.

“I would like to request some time with you, Mother. I’m afraid we have quite a bit to catch up on if you would have me?”

ʿ   the prince is riding. i have heard the thunder of his hooves.  swift as the wind he rides.  his enemies will cower before him and their wives will weep tears of blood.  the stallion who mounts the world.  the stallion is the khal of khals.  he’ll unite the people into a single khalasar and all the people of the world will be his herd.   ʾ     

she remembers the day vividly.  she had been taken before the dosh khaleen who had presented her with tradition.  a woman sang of their prophecy as she was tasked with eating a raw stallion’s heart.  it was to give her son strength , and to prove that she would be a capable mother.  ser jorah had told her that not many made it through the process.  and she understood why when she’d taken that first bite.  it was bloody and soft.  her teeth were not made for ripping through such a material.  after that first bite she feared she wouldn’t finish the entire thing.  

but as drogo stared at her and as she focused on the small life within her womb , she took bite after bite.  soon her hands and arms were covered in blood and it was dripping from her chin.  but she is a dragon.  and dragons don’t cower.

she’d been able to eat the entire thing and the priestess had declaired her son to be the stallion who mounts the world.  and she’d stood , interrupting the woman and facing the men and women of drogo’s khalasar , of her khalasar.    ʿ   a prince rides inside me.  and he shall be called rhaego.   ʾ      

the name had only been thought up in that moment.  before , she hadn’t known what to call her son.  but as she stood high off the excitement , she realied it was the perfect name.  rhaegar had been the last dragon and a good man whom she wished she could have known.  so she’d give her son a piece of his legacy.  

she’d dream about the future with him.  about drogo teaching him to ride and she telling him the stories of his ancestors as viserys had done for her.  he’d be horse and dragon combined.  a powerful man with two great ancient bloods mixing with him.

until she foolishly dabbled with black magic.  in return for her sons’ mangled appearance and death , she’d gotten an unresponsive husband.  it had broken her.  but her dreams had pushed her on.  they told her to step into drogo’s pyre with her eggs.  that her sons life , her husbands life , and the witches life were payment for her three dragons to be born.  three lives taken , three lives gained.  

that was the only solace she found in her actions , as little as it was.  now she had three children.  powerful beasts that could put the world at her heel  , but her children nonetheless.  she’d doted on them as she’d been unable to do with rhaego and they filled the whole that he’d left after she’d been told of his death.  

but now , here he stood before her.  as a man , not a babe.  lilac eyes found like as he dismounted his stallion.  and for the first time she noticed his armour.  a dragon and horse adorned it.  she didn’t have long to think on it before the man took her hands in his and spoke.  her already faultering demeanor crumbled as he called her mama.  

a tear fell from her eye and she stifled a sob.  within she knew that it was probable she was being foolish.  that this man before her couldn’t possibly be her stillborn son.  but as familiar eyes and features stared back , she found herself believing.  who else but her son , the stallion who mounts the world , could have united what looked to be every single dothraki under him ?  it had been his fate.  

❝  yes , yes.  come.  ❞   she pulled at his hands and led him within the castle.  though many made the move to follow her , jorah had kept them all back as only he joined.  the safety of his khaleesi was paramount , but nor did others need to see what was sure to be a tragic reunion. 

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daario naharis.

for: @ffirekissed

Staring up at the scorching sun from his perch on the windowsill of the room that he knew that his Queen was staying in, Daario couldn’t help but wonder just how they got to this point. In Essos, Daario had agreed to pledge his sword, his life, his heart to Daenarys and if the whispers he heard on the merchant ship he had taken passage on was anything to go by, she wasn’t the one sitting upon the Iron Throne but her brother. It didn’t feel right, it didn’t seem right. What had he managed to do to earn himself the throne? Be born with a cock and two balls? The Iron Throne belonged to a true dragon, to the Mother of Dragons herself… the breaker of chains. She was the one that liberated Yunkai, she was the one that rose from the ashes of her late husband’s pyre with three newly hatched whelps… Not her brother.

Letting his leg dangle on the edge of the windowsill, feeling the warm sun against his skin, Daario could look up into the clouds and see the large silhouettes of the fantastic beasts that only Daenarys could hatch. He wondered, briefly, if her brother had any sort of relationship with them. If he could communicate and ride them as he had seen his sister do, or if Daenerys was the true dragon like he had expected. As he stared up at the clouds, he could hear the soft sound of footsteps against stone, a light sound that he knew could only belong to his Khaleesi, and a small smirk began to tease at his lips.

“You would think that a Khaleesi would learn to keep her windows guarded… you never know just what perverse man may make the treacherous climb to claim the Queen’s womanhood,” he spoke, voice light and playful before he turned to look over his shoulder at his Khaleesi, winking in her direction. Gods, how long had it been? Nine… ten moons? Maybe even more? It was hard to keep track, but by Gods, was she even more beautiful than he remembered… His memories could do her no justice.

it hadn’t been so long ago  —  yet at the same time years and years had passed  —  that she’d been sold to the dothraki.  by her brother and in exchange for drogo’s fourty thousand men.  though she’d endured hardships —  rape , abuse , and the fear that went along with being thrust into another culture —  she’d also found herself.  the stone eggs she’d coddled throughout their journey had given her that.  it then bounded when she found out she had been pregnant.  with rhaego . . .  who’d apparently lived through the birth and the curse.  but that was thought for another time.  the guilt was too much.

after drogo had died , she’d only had a small khalasar and three baby dragons.  more joined her as her story spread and wanted to follow the mother of dragons.  her resolve to protect those under her grew and grew.  they looked towards her , depended on her.  and why not extend that protection to those who couldn’t claim it for themselves ?   those who needed a push , who needed hope , who needed whatever the individual wanted to think towards , to cut off their slave collars and live free.  lone dothraki migrated towards her , the unsullied were bought and freed , and the second sons were found outside yunkai.  all helped her liberate two cities around the newly named bay of dragons.  but she could not do it all herself.  not when her brother had called her back.  

so she’d left daario and his men to supervise and take care as the freed peoples of yunkai and astapor beseiged the masters of meereen.  progress was going well , judging by the letters from daario.  perhaps well enough that oversight was no longer needed.  and with more and more whispers against her brother circulating , dany feared for the future.  so a letter was written to daario that requested he rejoin her in kings landing.  

she’d known they’d already arrived.  it was difficult to hide over two thousand sellswords arriving in the capital , but she’d yet to see daario.  until she faced him in her chambers , sitting on a windowsill that should’ve been impossible to climb.  

a solid brow rose as she crossed the room towards a sitting area.    ❝   and those that make threats of such may walk out of here with no manhood remaining.   ❞ 

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My mother died giving me birth, and my father and my brother Rhaegar even before that. I would never have known so much as their names if Viserys had not been there to tell me. He was the only one left. The only one. He is all I have.

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targaryensource‌:

Requested by @trigonsdottir