#AEGON III. at the queen’s side like a small pale shadow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bl00dlight · 7 months ago

Text

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warning; This chapter includes:

Mentions of underage SA, inappropriate treatment of underage characters, violence

Word Count ~ 5k+

Author's note • Expanding upon that warning; prepare for Aegon being Aegon. Also I have not edited this shit, I wrote it in like a 10k block of writing. I ain't got no fucken time for that atm.

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi● vii● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

v ~ 'Nameday'

123 AC

Prince Aemond heard the muffled sighs of his elder brother Prince Aegon, who did little to hide his disinterest during the Lady Laena’s funeral rites. He’d grimaced at the way he found out his cousin had perished, though he supposed at least she went out as a dragon rider and not some writhing woman at the mercy of the Maesters. As he gazed over the detailed carving of her coffin, his mind drifted to just how she might look in there, probably burnt to a fine, gruesome crisp – and the babe probably resembled a lump of roasted meat more than a child. Aemond shook his head at the thought, wishing to gag at the mere notion of it. His mind drifted in and out as the funeral rites rattled on, yet he couldn’t help but notice the rumbling of Lady Laenor’s mount in the skies above. His attention was once again quickly captured by the Queen, his mother, Alicent Hightower pinching the sides of Prince Aegon as he sighed again. His elder brother let out a soft wince, and Aemond smirked to himself before feeling the soft eyes of his elder sister Princess Helaena upon him. Her face was aloof, her eyes neither narrow nor wide as she gazed at him for a moment – her silver curls seemingly white in the light of the overcast sky.

Helaena looked away, uninterested and Aemond could not help but to feel rising sparks of envy every time he gazed at his sister. Not only for how unaware she seemed, but also of her recent betrothal to their elder brother Prince Aegon. He was far more worthy for a betrothal than Aegon, no it was a match which his elder brother surely would not fail to let go to absolute waste. How could drunkard, lecherous Aegon be wedded in their tradition, and Aemond merely used as whatever political pawn his parents pleased? Was he truly that unimportant? Why should Aegon be worthy of Helaena’s hand and not he? Aemond did not wish for some gossiping Lady of the court, he deserved a wife worthy of him, worthy of a dragon’s blood. The fact remained that even if Prince Aegon was one day to be King, he was still unworthy in Aemond’s mind, in fact he had been secretly hoping their mother would suggest he and Helaena be betrothed in order to solidify Aemond making for a greater claim when the time came. For why would his mother wish for Aegon to be on the throne and not he, why would Alicent not see Aegon was insufficient and make it, so his claim was far less preferred of Aemond’s? The young Prince knew who sat on the Iron Throne was merely a matter of who men see the most beneficial, surely his mother could not be so stupid as to not see how everyone regarded his elder brother as a useless lech.

His blood boiled at the thought of all of it, at Aegon, his mother, his brother’s betrothal – yet as his eyes wandered upon the funeral guests he came across another infuriating sight he had done well to ignore thus far. Princess Visenya. Aemond looked over to her, Visenya stood beside her mother Rhaneyra, the young princess kept her eyes glued to Lady Laena’s coffin. He scanned her for a moment, yet she did not seem to notice his gaze as small tears ran down her pale face. Aemond felt himself struck for a moment, gazing at his niece and perhaps for the first time, noticing her properly. He felt himself cringe at the thought, though when the Princess was not speaking, or vexing – she seemed to be rather, fair. His mind turned to what he considered a dark place as he gazed upon his niece, taking in the fact she was indeed the picture of a Valyrian princess. If she weren’t so unbearable perhaps he would not refuse a betrothal to her. Visenya was indeed a rather pretty girl, even for her age, though a tad taller than he. Regardless, she was a Targaryen as he, and all the great Targaryen men seemingly had Valyrian blooded wives. Why should he go without? It was not like he had to have affections for her, all they had to do was perform their duty and Aemond had grown most comfortable with doing so in the pursuit of his own gain.

Yet… that is what troubled the young prince all the same as he narrowed his gaze upon the young Princess, Visenya, was probably a bastard, and an irritating one at that, but still worthy she may be. And though it bothered him terribly, she was of pure Targaryen blood, and her poorly held tongue proved as such. Mayhap she could probably be kept like a doll, if he was to wed her, he thought in jest. But the thought lingered more than he wished it to, and as he continued to wonder he thought for as long as did what she was told, upheld their duty, and remained comely, she might be far more ideal wife for him than a woman he hardly knew.

He shook his head at the thought, reminding himself that Princess Visenya was nothing more than a stupid, vapid girl and that she had oft taken pleasure in her brother’s tormenting him. They were nothing alike anyway, the princess liked frivolous and superficial things, she enjoyed jewels and pretty gowns. Cakes too… he was positive she enjoyed sweets. At every family supper at King’s Landing, he had watched with disgust as she masticated any meat or vegetable that befell her, often spitting it out crudely. Yet, when desert came she would gorge herself on puddings and fruits – much to his disgust too. The prince was surprised her teeth hadn’t rotted from her mouth, though he supposed she must have some sort of tonic or salve from the Maesters to keep her teeth like pearls. No, of course, no consequence would dare befall her for her own gluttony, she would never allow it. If there was one thing to be noted about Princess Visenya, it was how little she resembled their great ancestor Queen Visenya. No, the young princess was no warrior, no woman of hard will or brute force. The princess was weak, easily tempted, and most of all terribly vain, he thought. Aemond had once caught her admiring her reflection upon the small pond in the garden’s once, he had the mind to push her in. His mind dwelled and battled with itself as he thought of her, and he supposed she would not make a terrible wife if she did not speak. Though that was another problem, the princess lacked the tact to keep her thoughts to herself. Mayhap he could get her mouth sewn shut; Prince Aemond stifled a smirk as the image entered his mind.

As the moments passed, Aemond shuddered at the realization of how much he actually knew of her, how much he thought of her… why was he thinking of her? Disgust then rage filled him, no… no…twas her fault, not his. Her fault for being so utterly dreadful that he loathed her to the point of dwelling on her! Her stupid sad face, her lips pouting as though she truly felt sorry for her Lady Laena. It was all just artifice, all just an act to appear as though she had any morals in that blackened soul of hers.

●

Lady Laena’s funeral came and went in a horrid flash, Visenya had all but ran to her half-sister’s Baela and Rhaena upon seeing them again, taking them both in her arms tightly as the two younger girls both wept softly. She had spent most of the repast with her sisters, and of course, shadowing her half-brothers. Visenya watched the gloom on Jacaerys face glaze his eyes, every time she swore a tear would form it would be quickly concealed by the wiping of his hand or shaking of his head.

The Princess had soon taken refuge by the shores of Driftmark, her gaze drifting upon the yellowed sand, the gray sea which brushed gently up upon the rocks. Her mind dwelling on her father, how his eyes softened as quickly as they hardened. Her heart aching with that familiar pang of longing for a life she simply did not have. Something Visenya oft tried to suppress with the joys of material goods, though futile it proved as time and time again she was left with that familiar empty sensation she couldn't quite name.

As she continued upon the edge of the rock pools, she came across a familiar sight looking up to the skies above at the mourning Vhagar. Silver hair contrasting a green cloak; Aemond.

Cautiously she approached him as he continued to look upwards at Vhagar, he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching him, he slowly turned his gaze towards the young princess. A small scoff was heard to escape from him as Aemond crossed his arms, looking back at the sky. "What do you want? Are you here to shove me once more?"

She paused and looked up to the mournful cries above, the dark silhouette of Vhagar lining the gray clouds, “Not if you are not so rude as to grab at me again.” Visenya retorted back, her gaze finding the back of his head.

Aemond merely rolled his eyes at her words, he continued to stare up at the sky, not daring to look at her. She did not deserve his attention, not after their previous encounter all those weeks ago. The prince had a small frown upon his face as he kept his arms crossed. "What is it that you want? You must want something from me, if you've come to seek me out."

She scoffed and raised her brow, "I did not come for you. I came to seek solace away from the funeral. How was I to know you would be here... lurking?" Her voice crooning, he was always creeping in the shadows she thought.

The small smirk that had been upon Aemond’s face vanished, he turned swiftly, his tone sharp as that familiar annoyance within him bloomed. He shot Visenyal a cold look and took a step towards her, grumbling out his words, "I was not lurking! I was here just to think, I had already been here well before you graced me with your presence."

Visenya let out a vexing chuckle, her look incredulous as she smirked, “I doubt that. You probably came down here to scour for some helpless sea creatures to torment.”

He looked at her with a huff, it was like she had read his mind for he had indeed been looking for creatures to torment. The prince’s eyes glanced down to her with an unyielding stare. "And so what if I did? The creatures are weak, they are nothing to me or to you. They might as well be servants for me to command." He had taken a step towards her and Aemond's cold stormy eyes were met with Visenya's smirk, as if she was not the least intimidated by him.

Visenya opened her mouth as her expression coiled with disgust, she didn’t expect him to admit to such cruelty, "Ugh. I do wonder what exactly went wrong with you and your siblings. If it is not Helaena whispering to spiders, or Aegon accosting serving girls - it is you sulking around and toiling with the lives of helpless creatures. Truly... the lot of you are so strange."

The princess shook her head, stepping back from him as though he were riddled with disease, and in some ways she supposed he was. Not of the flesh of course, but of the mind. Certainly, it was the spawn of Alicent’s Hightower blood, crafty and cunning intertwining with the blood of the dragon that left the Green children terribly abnormal.

The cold look on Aemond's face morphed into one of anger as his eyes darkened at her words. How dare she insult him? How dare she? Anger took hold within him like no other as Aemond took another step towards his niece before him, standing in front of her now. "What did you just say to me? I will not listen to the likes of you spewing harsh words of my family!" His voice darkened, Aemond's hands balled into a fist, his knuckles turning white in the process.

Small waves crashed upon the rock pool as Visenya stepped back, raising her brow in judgment, "Calm yourself. Twas only a jest."

Aemond's eyes darkened, even more, his jaw clenched tightly. "That was not a mere jest. Do not tell me to calm myself! Do not presume to speak of my family, what do you even know of us regardless? Nothing but your own mindless little judgements it seems." He felt himself grow overwhelmed once again, she was so utterly irritating, how could he ever have thought to maybe wed her? Even despite the use of Dragon riding heirs, Visenya was not worth it.

"Now you defend them? You have spent half our youth complaining about Aegon for one?" Visenya smiled smugly and chuckled, her gaze upon her uncle sharp.

"I complain about him because it is the truth, but he is still my brother, my blood. Something you would know little about, niece." His words came out through clenched teeth, Aemond could feel his anger growing, his blood boiling under his skin with every sly smirk and sharp jest. Yet the prince fought to keep his composure in front of her, for would not succumb to Visenya’s vexing.

The anger finally won over Aemond, and a smirk was now plastered on his face. "Do you want me to say it then? The truth we have all been barred from speaking?" His voice filled with a callousness beyond the likes she had seen, a spite that surprised him.

Suddenly, a bitter air fell between them. Visenya wanted to lunge, wanted to grab his vile little tongue and pull it from his stupid little mouth before she looked down, tempering herself. As she did, another familiar voice filled the space.

“Brother?! Brother where-”, The lanky gait of Aegon approached the two Targaryen children, his hair longer, shaggy. A flailing rag of silver locks whipping as stumbled upon the rocks. Aemond’s gaze hardened further as he watched his elder brother approach, muttering under his breath. Now was not the time.

Aemond's smug expression turned to annoyance as he watched his brother drunkenly stumble his way through the rocks. "What are you doing here Aegon?!” He snapped slightly.

Aegon merely ignored his brother's anger as he walked up to the two young Targaryen’s, he let out a snicker before flailing his arms, swiftly approaching and gripping his Aemond's shoulder. Visenya noticed how he had flinched at the touch.

"I was looking for you, fool!” he said drunkenly, turning his attention back to who stood before him. His lilac gaze widened as a smirk appeared upon his face, “Oh, hello, Visenya.”

The Princess stared indifferently at her elder Uncle before her brow raised in amusement, the princess tilted her head as she noticed how Aegon leered upon her. "Hello Aegon."

Aemond's gaze deepened as he watched his brother lean against him. His brother was drunk, again. The boy's arms remained crossed, as he stifled down that sickly feeling of embarrassment he had always felt in front of others while Aegon was present.

"Well, now that you have found me, you can go stumbling somewhere else," The younger prince spoke distantly, still glaring up at his older brother.

"Ah! Do not be such a bitter old man, brother. I merely came to see you, and here you are…with our pretty niece." Aegon's voice slurred, a drunken smile upon his face. Aemond felt a flash of frustration and disgust, though he kept his composure, merely rolling his eyes at the comment.

The Princess found herself in slight disbelief of the situation, it was terribly awkward, though she admittedly enjoyed seeing how terribly uncomfortable Aemond had gotten, his gait stiff and eyes downcast.

She tilted her head, smiling softly as she could not help but beam at Aegon’s compliment of her. “Hm, thank you, Uncle.” Visenya said coyly.

The younger prince felt his eyes narrow as he watched that small, self-satisfied smile curl upon her face. He felt bothered by her indulgence of his brother’s depravity. A strange silence bloomed between the three before another wave crashed upon the rock, leading Aegon to stumble, his hand gripped his younger brother’s shoulder as the elder prince slurred, “Mm fuck.”

Aemond's fists were still clenched, as he attempted to keep his composure. His temper still flared from his previous conflict with Visenya, and now his brother had come to make it worse. He kept his gaze down, his heart coiling in rage and humiliation. Finally, the sweaty grip of his brother upon him set the young Prince reeling, "Get off me, you stink!’ Aemond muttered, shoving his brother away from him.

Suddenly, Aegon stumbled backwards, his vision unfocused as he nearly fell. Aemond however, could hardly give a shit, silently hoping his brother to fall and crack his head upon the rock, mayhap then he might find some bloody peace. The princess at scoffed Aemond’s inaction, she stepped out, her fingers wrapping around Aegon’s arm to keep him upright.

A drunken smile returned to his face, “My sweet niece, I see you care for me.” He crooned, chuckling lowly as he noticed the way a small blush crept upon her cheek, he leaned in and mumbled, “It is a shame our mothers cannot make amends.. you would have suited me better.”

Visenya’s brow furrowed in confusion, before she registered his drunken muttering, he must have been referring to his betrothal with Heleana. She smiled coyly and shook her head but as she went to speak Aemond interrupted harshly, disgusted by both of his kin before him, “Do not say such things.”

The elder prince scoffed and rolled his eyes, muttering softly, “Yes… yes..”, he turned and then leaned upon Visenya steadying himself. Without warning, Aegon brought his hand up to her face, his thumb grazed her lips, making her flinch as he spoke again whispering, “I do doubt she would please me as you might-“

Before Aegon could mutter anything more, the Princess withdrew her hand that held his arm, almost tittering backwards in a slight fear of his ogling. The feeling of his cool, sweaty palm upon her cheek made her want to wretch as the dark revelation of his intentions hammered through her. She had never liked such sentiments from men, always found them frightening – as she had grown over the years she had noticed the once innocent gazes and touches of men around her turning to something darker. Something she couldn’t explain but knew was wrong. Despite it all, despite being told she was soon a woman grown, she still felt like a girl – and by all means; she was.

“Aegon...” The younger Targaryen prince stepped forward; his tone low yet oddly submissive – as though he could not quite find it in him to stand up to his brother.

Aegon ignored Aemond’s warning. His free hand grabbed her chin, lifting it so to better view her face. “Come on, Visenya, you’ve grown quite becoming.” The silver haired boy’s breath was hot, a slight scent of alcohol wafting from him.

The tension grew rapidly, the princess shook under his grasp her hands pushing at his chest though it were no use. He was taunting her, laughing softly as he examined her face. Visenya wince in frustration, “Mm, you’ve our half-sister’s cheeks…” Aegon muttered, his eyes narrowing. “Actually, you know who you remind me of? Brother, come… tis remarkable how much our little niece looks like the Prince Daemon?” A harsh chuckle left the elder prince’s lips as he taunted her, his breath hot and distinctly yeasty.

The Princess felt her heart soar with rage, she flickered her gaze over to Aemond as his eyes were to the ground. She brought her knee soaring to Aegon’s groin but missed and slammed into his upper thigh. Aegon scoffed and squeezed at her fleshy cheeks. “STOP!” Visenya exclaimed, she felt weak, humiliated.

As Aemond watched the grotesque display of his brother’s depravity he felt himself fly into action, he charged furious at the sight of his brother's drunken hand on her. "Did you not hear what I just said, you fool!" He yelled, as he pulled his brother's hand away from their niece. Aemond gripped the bony flesh of his brother’s wrist, forcing him away.

The elder prince was taken aback by his younger brother’s sudden aggression, he feigned ignorance and raised his brow, looking at Aemond with widened drunken eyes. "What? I was only looking at her."

"You were squeezing her face, as if it was a toy." Aemond's voice was filled with fury, his hand ached before he thrusted it away from Aegon. "You say you wish to seek me out, yet all you've done is act as a drunkard."

Aegon let his head cock backwards, laughing mischievously – so what if he was in a sorry state? Was it not his right, after all his mother is convinced he shall be King. Aegon had thought many a time on how he shall spend his day as King constructing a large personal brewery and brothel in the Red Keep. Finally make the bloody place good for something. No, it was not he who was the issue, perhaps Aemond was just too dull to see that he was only fooling around. His voice softened, "Relax, little brother. I was merely teasing her; you needn't accost me. Regardless, drink was the only worthwhile element of such a boring affair."

The two Targaryen boys bickered and Visenya felt herself grow sickened. She looked away, her mind filling with rage and humiliation, and betrayal. How could Aemond just stand there for so fucking long, useless as though he were one of the rocks beneath their feet. She felt tears clawing at her and she turned her head away, concealing the hot droplets with her hand.

Aemond's turned and noticed the princess in distress, he grimaced and a small pang in his chest appeared as he caught the glimmer of her tears. Yet he pushed it away, reminding himself that it was indeed Visenya and not some innocent girl, she was wicked and just as cruel as Aegon. He would not concede to caring for her now, even with that pain within his chest. He muttered lowly again to his brother, “Go away.”

The elder prince leaned in, giving his brother a light tap on the cheek before smiling "Shut it, little brother," Aegon muttered as he turned and pushed his silver hair from his face, straightening himself. "And you," he said, turning to Visenya, "Don’t go crying, I meant nothing by my words." He looked at her with half-lidded eyes, smiling. "I simply meant to say that you have grown very beautiful, Visenya." His voice gentle.

Rage boiled in the princess again as she snapped, “Do not dare touch me again!”

As her shrill voice clashed against the swelling sound of the waves, Aegon raised his hands as a sign of surrender, though his ever present smirk remained. "Relax niece." The elder silver haired boy then turned his eyes upon Aemond, smirking at his cold eyed brother. "Why don’t we all temper ourselves, yes? We are kin after all." His smile was sickly.

Neither spoke, Aemond’s gaze remained on the rocks below, gazing between the dark inky curling tide as Visenya kept her gaze like daggers upon Aegon. He shook his head, growing with frustration as the younger Targaryen’s refused to embrace what he thought was light hearted play.

Aegon stepped forward to the princess and spoke, “Oh, come on! I didn’t mea- “Aegon flailed his arms, and then stopped as he noticed just how his niece coiled backwards in fear. He hummed at the slight tinge, examining her for a moment before a flicker of guilt in his gut rose.

Aemond's icy gaze only darkened as he listened to Aegon speak. He did not understand why his brother behave so perversely, for this was awful, even for Aegon’s standards. He looked between the two as they spoke, his fists clenching tighter and tighter. Yet his eyes softened slightly as he saw the flicker of fear upon their niece when his brother moved closer. Suddenly a wave of guilt hit him, why did he do nothing?

He felt useless, he was just as bad as Aegon. In his guilt, Aemond spoke lowly, “Just leave, brother.”

The elder prince turned swiftly and scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief “No… no, I’m not going up there, tis bloody miserable.”

“It’s a funeral?” Visenya quipped back bitterly. Of course it was bloody miserable, she thought. A mother and her babe had just died.

Aegon turned his head to his niece before trailing off, his gaze lowered as he looked at the rocks below, slowly pacing, “Indeed, it’s utterly awful...”

Silence fell between the three, Visenya still felt bitter wrath in her, though her eyes were upon Aemond now. With a swift whoosh, Aegon turned again and pointed to Visenya, “Was it not your name day this week?”

Her eyes did a double take before settling on Aegon, slightly taken aback by the abrupt change in tone, Visenya muttered, “Yes.”

A small, amused grin appeared upon his sharp face as he tilted his head and tutted “I feel sorry for you Visenya… however are you going to celebrate it again? It shall depress everyone knowing Lady Laenor died only a day prior. No more festivities it seems…” Aegon sighed, feigning pity before he began to pace again, continuing to ramble.

“…At least… not at Dragonstone, mayhap you ought to come to Kings Landing – I pride myself on the most unforgettable name day celebrations.” Aegon threw his head back slightly as he bragged, his eyes coming to his younger brother, noticing how Aemond shifted in discomfort, “Isn’t that right, brother? Tell our niece about our trip to Cock Inn, last year. You were turning ten and three, just like her.”

He knew it was coming, the young prince… he knew Aegon would find a way to humiliate him further. Slowly Aemond felt his cheeks burn, turning read from further humiliation, he looked up to see the disgusted expression upon Visenya’s face. “Be quiet.” Aemond grumbled.

Visenya watched as the dragonless prince shifted in discomfort, his fists and jaw clenched tightly as Aegon began to bring up a past that clearly had not been forgotten. She could only watch quietly as Aegon spoke on the name-day celebration, his drunken laughter filling the evening air. The young princess's eyes widened with shock as she heard Aegon mention the name of the Inn. She shook her head in confusion.

"No, no… I insist you tell her! Visenya is nearly a woman grown, I am sure she shall be betrothed soon. You ought to educate her as I did you!” With a wave of his hand, Aegon continued pacing, awaiting what was to come.

Aemond's cheeks flushed bright red, his fists clenching even tighter as Aegon began to reminisce that fateful night. He could still remember how Aegon’s vile words were still etched into his mind, “Time to get it wet.” The flash of what he had done that night, to whom he had done it to filled him with shame. He could still smell the saccharine perfume upon the weathered skin of the madame. Aemond furrowed his brow, wishing his mother were here. Aemond’s gazed laced with disgust before he turned his head away. A he avoided his brother's teasing sneer as a mixture of mortification and irritation filled his heart. How could he have been so foolish to follow his brother into such a wretched night? He muttered lowly to himself, the wind almost carrying his words away, “No.”

A high pitched, snivelling snicker left Aegon, and another lashing of that heavy feeling settled in the younger prince’s chest. He cursed his brother and his big, vile mouth, why did he have to mention such sin in front of Visenya? His fists tensed as Aegon's laughter bounced upon the jiggered cliff wall, he could feel his jaw clench as the mention of a past made his cheeks burn. He tried to ignore the pain and dishonour that came when Visenya's gaze shifted towards him.

The princess felt an overwhelming dread rippled through her, pulsing into her very bones. It was dreadful, the whole conversation seemed to derail into absolute horror before her eyes and though she knew not what Cock Inn was, she was ignorant to what its name suggest. “What are you blabbing on about?” Her tone sharp as she sneered at Aegon.

“See, our niece wishes to know? You would be a grand teacher for our sweet niece, after all he learned from one of the more… aged and experienced Lady’s.” Aegon snivelled lowly at his lewd implication.

As the words left Aegon’s lips, Aemond could not contain himself. The sheer shame of it all, the sheer disgust he felt within himself – which sparked tears in his eyes. Tears? No… no he could not cry, not in front of Aegon, not in front of Visenya. He would not be faint-hearted, he couldn't let his brother continue to humiliate him in front of others, even if it was his own blood. With a low growl, Aemond lunged at Aegon, tackling him to the ground and began punching him, his fists hitting his brother's face relentlessly.

The princess gasped, her eyes widened as she watched the young princes' wrestle on the ground, their fists flying wildly. As Aemond managed to tackle Aegon, he began to punch him repeatedly, his fists landing on his brother's face with a flurry of anger. But, the elder dragon's smile never left his face, he just giggled as if he were merely being tickled by a little boy. With that, a scoff left Aegon’s lip as he brought his hand to Aemond’s smaller chest shoving him to rocks.

Aemond stumbled back as Aegon shoved him away, his body crashing hard on the ground with a thud. He felt the pain as the sharp rocks dug into his back, it hurt, but he knew he had to continue fighting. He rose back up to his feet, his fists still clenched tight. He let out a loud yell, filled with anger and frustration, before charging back towards his brother. The younger prince swung freely at Aegon, and his fist connected with his brother's face once more.

The heavy sounds of grunts and giggling filled the air, and Visenya folded her arms, tilting her head at the rather pathetic sight before her. Aemond desperately trying to get one up upon his brother, and Aegon rolling about the floor dodging his advances, snivelling like a child.

She sighed after a few moments, waiting for them to tire themselves out and slowly approached them. With one final push, Aemond crashed upon the rocks again, and he himself let out a sharp, air hungry breath before he gave up his attack. Aegon stood up unsteadily and then looked down to his younger brother, a small moment transpired, a wry smile upon the elder prince’s face as his hand whipped Aemond hard across the back of his head, “Twat.” He spat.

As Aemond winced, he felt himself cower, more rage and shame curdling within him, but he had little energy to keep fighting. His gaze returned to his brother above before a small tap upon Aegon’s shoulder drove his attention to their niece behind him, “Keen for a slap too niece?” He laughed.

Suddenly, the dense thud of Visenya’s boot came in contact with Aegon’s groin. Aemond’s eyes widened in a strange enjoyment as the whimpering of Aegon filled the space. His elder brother practically crumbled to his knees and gagged. The elder prince coughed and groaned more, clutching at his breeches before he choked out, “You little… cunt…”

Visenya’s gaze was indignant and sharp before she looked to Aemond, extending her hand. The young prince refused her but as he went to speak, her harsh grip clawed into his wrist and forced him up. Without another word, Visenya tore Aemond away from his brother. Aegon shuffling to lean again the rocky cliff wall, inebriated and moaning in pain.

○vi○

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aboveallarescuer · 4 years ago

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Daenerys Targaryen's tropes - Rule of Three

Sometimes called trebling, the Rule of Three is a pattern used in stories and jokes, where part of the story is told three times, with minor variations. The first two instances build tension, and the third releases it by incorporating a twist.

Three is the smallest number required to create a pattern, so it's especially common in storytelling.The third of three siblings succeeds after their older siblings each failed. The protagonist is given three tests and receives the prize after the third. It's almost unusual to find a folktale that does not incorporate the Rule of Three in some form. This may be an artifact of the oral tradition, in which the stock formula of the first, second, and third attempts makes the story easier to remember.

[...] Sometimes, an event needs to be shown three times to establish that a variation to the norm is happening. The first time the audience sees this event, they see it happening a certain way, but they don't yet know that this is typical. The second time they see it, it is the same as the first. This establishes that this is the standard way that things always happen. The third time they see the event in question, it is different, so the audience knows that this is a deviation from the norm.

Dany's story is deliberately filled with Rule of Three examples. This trope is so significant to her character that GRRM even had her acknowledge it:

Her bell rang softly, and Dany found her thoughts returning to the Palace of Dust once more, as the tongue returns to a space left by a missing tooth. Child of three, they had called her, daughter of death, slayer of lies, bride of fire. So many threes. Three fires, three mounts to ride, three treasons. (ACOK Daenerys V)

Examples where the third time breaks the norm

1) Dany was the third of three siblings and became/will become everything that they couldn't be - conqueror, queen and savior

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. They will kill me too if I allow it. (ADWD Daenerys I)

2) Dany has three dragon dreams, with the third happening just before she births her dragons

There are no more dragons, Dany thought, staring at her brother, though she did not dare say it aloud.

Yet that night she dreamt of one. Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You woke the dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon.” Her thighs were slick with blood. She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. (AGOT Daenerys II)

Yet when she slept that night, she dreamt the dragon dream again. Viserys was not in it this time. There was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed. Its eyes were pools of molten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She could hear it singing to her, She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blacken and slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and fierce. (AGOT Daenerys III)

Wings shadowed her fever dreams. 

[...] Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. “Faster,” they cried, “faster, faster.” She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. “Faster!” the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew.

“... wake the dragon ...”

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door.

“... the dragon ...”

And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. “The last dragon,” Ser Jorah’s voice whispered faintly. “The last, the last.” Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

3) Dany wakes up three times from fever dreams and gets up in the third attempt

She woke to the taste of ashes. 

“No,” she moaned, “no, please.” 

“Khaleesi?” Jhiqui hovered over her, a frightened doe. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

After a time—a night, a day, a year, she could not say—she woke again. The tent was dark, its silken walls flapping like wings when the wind gusted outside. This time Dany did not attempt to rise. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

When she woke the third time, a shaft of golden sunlight was pouring through the smoke hole of the tent, and her arms were wrapped around a dragon’s egg. It was the pale one, its scales the color of butter cream, veined with whorls of gold and bronze, and Dany could feel the heat of it. Beneath her bedsilks, a fine sheen of perspiration covered her bare skin. Dragondew, she thought. Her fingers trailed lightly across the surface of the shell, tracing the wisps of gold, and deep in the stone she felt something twist and stretch in response. It did not frighten her. All her fear was gone, burned away. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

4) Dany attempts to birth the dragons in three different ways: sleeping alongside the dragon eggs, putting them on a brazier and placing them on Drogo's funeral pyre. The third attempt works

“Please, bring me one of the dragon’s eggs.”

Irri fetched the egg with the deep green shell, bronze flecks shining amid its scales as she turned it in her small hands. Dany curled up on her side, pulling the sandsilk cloak across her and cradling the egg in the hollow between her swollen belly and small, tender breasts. She liked to hold them. They were so beautiful, and sometimes just being close to them made her feel stronger, braver, as if somehow she were drawing strength from the stone dragons locked inside.

She was lying there, holding the egg, when she felt the child move within her ... as if he were reaching out, brother to brother, blood to blood. “You are the dragon,” Dany whispered to him, “the true dragon. I know it. I know it.” And she smiled, and went to sleep dreaming of home. (AGOT Daenerys IV)

Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, “Ser Jorah, light the brazier.” “Khaleesi?” The knight looked at her strangely. “It is so hot. Are you certain?” She had never been so certain. “Yes. I ... I have a chill. Light the brazier.”

He bowed. “As you command.”

When the coals were afire, Dany sent Ser Jorah from her. She had to be alone to do what she must do. This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn, and it’s so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet ...

Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals. The black scales seemed to glow as they drank the heat. Flames licked against the stone with small red tongues. Dany placed the other two eggs beside the black one in the fire. As she stepped back from the brazier, the breath trembled in her throat.

She watched until the coals had turned to ashes. Drifting sparks floated up and out of the smokehole. Heat shimmered in waves around the dragon’s eggs. And that was all. (AGOT Daenerys VI)

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. Mirri Maz Duur had fallen silent. The godswife thought her a child, but children grow, and children learn. (AGOT Daenerys X)

5) Dany births three dragons. She bonds with and rides the third one

She heard a crack, the sound of shattering stone. [...]

And there came a second crack, loud and sharp as thunder, and the smoke stirred and whirled around her and the pyre shifted, the logs exploding as the fire touched their secret hearts. [...]

Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world. (AGOT Daenerys X)

Daenerys Targaryen vaulted onto the dragon’s back, seized the spear, and ripped it out. The point was half-melted, the iron red-hot, glowing. She flung it aside. Drogon twisted under her, his muscles rippling as he gathered his strength. The air was thick with sand. Dany could not see, she could not breathe, she could not think. The black wings cracked like thunder, and suddenly the scarlet sands were falling away beneath her.

Dizzy, Dany closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she glimpsed the Meereenese beneath her through a haze of tears and dust, pouring up the steps and out into the streets.

The lash was still in her hand. She flicked it against Drogon’s neck and cried, “Higher!” Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. Drogon’s wide black wings beat the air. Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. Yes, she thought, yes, now, now, do it, do it, take me, take me, FLY! (ADWD Daenerys IX)

6) Dany sends her three bloodriders to look for a safe place to go and the third (who had followed the comet, strongly implying that it was indeed showing her the way) returns with news of Qarth, which is where she ultimately goes

“I have need of you. Each of you is to choose three horses, the hardiest and healthiest that remain to us. Load as much water and food as your mounts can bear, and ride forth for me. Aggo shall strike southwest, Rakharo due south. Jhogo, you are to follow shierak qiya on southeast.”

“What shall we seek, Khaleesi?” asked Jhogo.

“Whatever there is,” Dany answered. “Seek for other cities, living and dead. Seek for caravans and people. Seek for rivers and lakes and the great salt sea. Find how far this waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side. When I leave this place, I do not mean to strike out blind again. I will know where I am bound, and how best to get there.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

Rakharo was the first to return. Due south the red waste stretched on and on, he reported, until it ended on a bleak shore beside the poison water. Between here and there lay only swirling sand, wind-scoured rocks, and plants bristly with sharp thorns. He had passed the bones of a dragon, he swore, so immense that he had ridden his horse through its great black jaws. Other than that, he had seen nothing. (ACOK Daenerys I)

Aggo was back next. The southwest was barren and burnt, he swore. He had found the ruins of two more cities, smaller than Vaes Tolorro but otherwise the same. One was warded by a ring of skulls mounted on rusted iron spears, so he dared not enter, but he had explored the second for as long as he could. (ACOK Daenerys I)

Jhogo was gone so long that Dany feared him lost, but finally when they had all but ceased to look for him, he came riding up from the southeast. One of the guards that Aggo had posted saw him first and gave a shout, and Dany rushed to the walls to see for herself. It was true. Jhogo came, yet not alone. Behind him rode three queerly garbed strangers atop ugly humped creatures that dwarfed any horse.

They drew rein before the city gates, and looked up to see Dany on the wall above them. “Blood of my blood,” Jhogo called, “I have been to the great city Qarth, and returned with three who would look on you with their own eyes.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

7) The third fire that Dany must light is to (rather than for) love

The whispers became a swirling song. ... three fires must you light ... one for life and one for death and one to love ... (ACOK Daenerys IV)

8) Dany conquered three cities and ruled the third one

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. (ADWD Tyrion II)

“Meereen is not Westeros, Your Grace.”

“But how can I rule seven kingdoms if I cannot rule a single city? [...] I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.” She turned back to look at their faces. “I will not march.”

“What will you do then, Khaleesi?” asked Rakharo.

“Stay,” she said. “Rule. And be a queen.” (ASOS Daenerys VI)

9) Dany is given the option to leave Meereen for Westeros three times in ADWD and only chooses to do so in the third time

“You turned north when you should have continued south and west, across the Summer Sea, but with my gift you shall soon be back where you belong. Accept my galleys with a joyful heart, and bend your oars westward.”

Would that I could. “My lord, I will gladly have those ships, but I cannot give you the promise that you ask.” She took his hand. “Give me the galleys, and I swear that Qarth will have the friendship of Meereen until the stars go out. Let me trade with them, and you will have a good part of the profits.”

Xaro’s glad smile died upon his lips. “What are you saying? Are you telling me you will not go?”

“I cannot go.” (ADWD Daenerys III)

“Your Grace, I must entreat you. My father’s strength is failing, but his devotion to your cause is as strong as ever. If my manner or my person have displeased you, that is my sorrow, but—”

“If you would please me, ser, be happy for me,” Daenerys said. “This is my wedding day. They will be dancing in the Yellow City, I do not doubt.” She sighed. “Rise, my prince, and smile. One day I shall return to Westeros to claim my father’s throne, and look to Dorne for help. But on this day the Yunkai’i have my city ringed in steel. I may die before I see my Seven Kingdoms. Hizdahr may die. Westeros may be swallowed by the waves.” Dany kissed his cheek. “Come. It’s time I wed.” (ADWD Daenerys VII)

You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. “To be a queen.”

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.

“It is such a long way,” she complained. “I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl.”

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

“Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass. (ADWD Daenerys X)

Examples of three instances without a twist

1) The dragon has three heads (refers to the prophecy, to House Targaryen's sigil and to the Conquest Trio)

“There must be one more,” he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. “The dragon has three heads.” (ACOK Daenerys IV)

“The dragon has three heads,” she sighed. “Do you know what that means, Jorah?”

“Your Grace? The sigil of House Targaryen is a three-headed dragon, red on black.”

“I know that. But there are no three-headed dragons.”

“The three heads were Aegon and his sisters.”

“Visenya and Rhaenys,” she recalled. “I am descended from Aegon and Rhaenys through their son Aenys and their grandson Jaehaerys.” (ACOK Daenerys V)

2) Dany is given three handmaids

Her brother Viserys gifted her with three handmaids. Dany knew they had cost him nothing; Illyrio no doubt had provided the girls. Irri and Jhiqui were copper-skinned Dothraki with black hair and almond-shaped eyes, Doreah a fair-haired, blue-eyed Lysene girl. (AGOT Daenerys II)

3) Dany has three bloodriders

She turned to the three young warriors of her khas. “Jhogo, to you I give the silver-handled whip that was my bride gift, and name you ko, and ask your oath, that you will live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

Jhogo took the whip from her hands, but his face was confused. “Khaleesi,” he said hesitantly, “this is not done. It would shame me, to be bloodrider to a woman.”

“Aggo,” Dany called, paying no heed to Jhogo’s words. If I look back I am lost. “To you I give the dragonbone bow that was my bride gift.” It was double-curved, shiny black and exquisite, taller than she was. “I name you ko, and ask your oath, that you should live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

Aggo accepted the bow with lowered eyes. “I cannot say these words. Only a man can lead a khalasar or name a ko.”

“Rakharo,” Dany said, turning away from the refusal, “you shall have the great arakh that was my bride gift, with hilt and blade chased in gold. And you too I name my ko, and ask that you live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

“You are khaleesi,” Rakharo said, taking the arakh. “I shall ride at your side to Vaes Dothrak beneath the Mother of Mountains, and keep you safe from harm until you take your place with the crones of the dosh khaleen. No more can I promise.” (AGOT Daenerys X)

4) Dany is the mother of three dragons

And my dragons, never forget. In time, the dragons would be her most formidable guardians, just as they had been for Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters three hundred years ago. Just now, though, they brought her more danger than protection. In all the world there were but three living dragons, and those were hers; they were a wonder, and a terror, and beyond price. (ASOS Daenerys I)

5) Dany is met by three representatives from Qarth at Vaes Tolorro (who are a deliberate reference to the Three Wise Men visiting Jesus after his birth)

One of the guards that Aggo had posted saw him first and gave a shout, and Dany rushed to the walls to see for herself. It was true. Jhogo came, yet not alone. Behind him rode three queerly garbed strangers atop ugly humped creatures that dwarfed any horse.

6) Dany receives three prophecy visions: she will light three fires and ride three mounts and know three treasons

Her own heart was beating in unison to the one that floated before her, blue and corrupt ... three mounts must you ride ... one to bed and one to dread and one to love ... The voices were growing louder, she realized, and it seemed her heart was slowing, and even her breath. ... three treasons will you know ... once for blood and once for gold and once for love ... (ACOK Daenerys IV)

7) Dany is called the child of three and is given three titles contextualized by multiple visions - daughter of death (because three men died so she could become who she is), slayer of lies (because she will reveal three assertions to be false) and bride of fire (because she will take three husbands).

Then phantoms shivered through the murk, images in indigo. Viserys screamed as the molten gold ran down his cheeks and filled his mouth. A tall lord with copper skin and silver-gold hair stood beneath the banner of a fiery stallion, a burning city behind him. Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with his last breath murmured a woman’s name. ... mother of dragons, daughter of death ... Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire. ... mother of dragons, slayer of lies ... Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. ... mother of dragons, bride of fire ... (ACOK Daenerys V)

Child of three, they had called her, daughter of death, slayer of lies, bride of fire. (ACOK Daenerys V)

8) Illyrio sends Dany three ships

“It is so, Your Grace,” Arstan Whitebeard said. “The great cog Saduleon is berthed at the end of the quay, and the galleys Summer Sun and Joso’s Prank are anchored beyond the breakwater.”

Three heads has the dragon, Dany thought, wondering. “I shall tell my people to make ready to depart at once. But the ships that bring me home must bear different names.”

“As you wish,” said Arstan. “What names would you prefer?”

“Vhagar,” Daenerys told him. “Meraxes. And Balerion. Paint the names on their hulls in golden letters three feet high, Arstan. I want every man who sees them to know the dragons are returned.” (ACOK Daenerys V)

9) Three suitors outside Meereen are attempting to reach Dany in ADWD

When Victarion opened his hand, his palm was red with blood. “I’ll go to Slaver’s Bay, aye. I’ll find this dragon woman, and I’ll bring her back.” But not for you. You stole my wife and despoiled her, so I’ll have yours. The fairest woman in the world, for me. (AFFC The Reaver)

That was before Prince Doran had summoned him to the Water Gardens. And now the most beautiful woman in the world was waiting in Meereen, and he meant to do his duty and claim her for his bride. She will not refuse me. She will honor the agreement. Daenerys Targaryen would need Dorne to win the Seven Kingdoms, and that meant that she would need him. It does not mean that she will love me, though. She may not even like me. (ADWD The Merchant's Man)

“...It does make for a splendid story, and the singers will make much of your escape once you take the Iron Throne … assuming that our fair Daenerys takes you for her consort.”

“She will. She must.”

“Must?” Tyrion made a tsking sound. “That is not a word queens like to hear. You are her perfect prince, agreed, bright and bold and comely as any maid could wish. Daenerys Targaryen is no maid, however. She is the widow of a Dothraki khal, a mother of dragons and sacker of cities, Aegon the Conqueror with teats. She may not prove as willing as you wish.”

“She’ll be willing.” Prince Aegon sounded shocked. It was plain that he had never before considered the possibility that his bride-to-be might refuse him. (ADWD Tyrion VI)

Speculations

Considering how the Rule of Three was so important to Dany's story so far, it's only natural that people also use it to speculate on her future.

1) Dany is the third Daenerys that we get to know of and the one that will get to rule

While the three Daenerys’ don’t have anything close to similar lives, each of the Daenerys’ of the past seem to intentionally have call backs or call forwards to the canon era Dany. Both of them seem to foreshadow Dany’s current and future storylines with pushes for social progress and her future as the reigning Queen of Westeros. (x)

2) Dany's story is illustrated by the three walls of Qarth. It has three phases marked by her time with the Dothraki, by her actions in Slaver's Bay and, later, by love (read more about this in this meta)

Three thick walls encircled Qarth, elaborately carved. The outer was red sandstone, thirty feet high and decorated with animals: snakes slithering, kites flying, fish swimming, intermingled with wolves of the red waste and striped horses and monstrous elephants. The middle wall, forty feet high, was grey granite alive with scenes of war: the clash of sword and shield and spear, arrows in flight, heroes at battle and babes being butchered, pyres of the dead. The innermost wall was fifty feet of black marble, with carvings that made Dany blush until she told herself that she was being a fool. She was no maid; if she could look on the grey wall’s scenes of slaughter, why should she avert her eyes from the sight of men and women giving pleasure to one another? (ACOK Daenerys I)

Most of the "firsts” seem to relate to the beginning of Dany’s journey and her life with the Dothraki, just as the first wall of Qarth.

[...] Most of the “seconds” of the prophecies seem to relate to moments of war or moments in Slaver’s Bay, just like the second wall of Qarth is full of scenes of war.

[...] And Dany’s third prophecies seem to mostly relate to love. Fire to love, mount to love and treason for love. (x)

3) Dany embraced fire and blood in two moments that marked the end of the first and second phases of her journey and will either do so again or reject it towards the end of the third phase

No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children. (AGOT Daenerys X)

You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

“Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass. (ADWD Daenerys X)

4) Dany had/will have two brief and unhappy marriages with her first two husbands (Drogo being represented by the silver, Hizdahr being represented by the corpse). Her third husband (Jon being represented by the blue flower) will finally allow her to enter a long and happy marriage (which the vision itself suggests since the blue flower "filled the air with sweetness")

Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. ... mother of dragons, bride of fire ... (ACOK Daenerys V)

The blue flower in the wall of ice is without doubt Jon. And this comes during the bride of fire prophecy, and it’s the third vision of the prophecy, meaning that it will happen during the third phase of Dany’s story, the one that is focused on romantic and sexual love. (x)

5) Dany had her first child killed and miscarried her second child. Her third child (with Jon) will live

She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogo’s copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

When she woke, gasping, her thighs were slick with blood.

For a moment she did not realize what it was. The world had just begun to lighten, and the tall grass rustled softly in the wind. No, please, let me sleep some more. I’m so tired. She tried to burrow back beneath the pile of grass she had torn up when she went to sleep. Some of the stalks felt wet. Had it rained again? She sat up, afraid that she had soiled herself as she slept. When she brought her fingers to her face, she could smell the blood on them. Am I dying? Then she saw the pale crescent moon, floating high above the grass, and it came to her that this was no more than her moon blood.

If she had not been so sick and scared, that might have come as a relief. Instead she began to shiver violently. She rubbed her fingers through the dirt, and grabbed a handful of grass to wipe between her legs. The dragon does not weep. She was bleeding, but it was only woman’s blood. The moon is still a crescent, though. How can that be? She tried to remember the last time she had bled. The last full moon? The one before? The one before that? No, it cannot have been so long as that. (ADWD Daenerys X)

6) Dany is the third of the three queens (after Cersei and Margaery) that Littlefinger is referring to

“...What little peace and order the five kings left us will not long survive the three queens, I fear.”

“Three queens?” She did not understand. (AFFC Alayne II)

7) Dany is the younger more beautiful queen that Cersei is afraid of, which is only fitting since she will be specifically the third of the three candidates (after Sansa and Margaery) that Cersei will suspect

“I will be queen, though?” asked the younger her.

“Aye.” Malice gleamed in Maggy’s yellow eyes. “Queen you shall be ... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.” (AFFC Cersei VIII)

8) Dany couldn't trust the first two Qartheen envoys, only the third

“I have been to the great city Qarth, and returned with three who would look on you with their own eyes.”

Dany stared down at the strangers. “Here I stand. Look, if that is your pleasure ... but first tell me your names.”

The pale man with the blue lips replied in guttural Dothraki, “I am Pyat Pree, the great warlock.”

The bald man with the jewels in his nose answered in the Valyrian of the Free Cities, “I am Xaro Xhoan Daxos of the Thirteen, a merchant prince of Qarth.”

The woman in the lacquered wooden mask said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms, “I am Quaithe of the Shadow. We come seeking dragons.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

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