#like all of my dany posting this is incoherent. she’s the last targaryen she’s the cycle breaker she’s everything. you know

[visenyaism]

Dany avoiding Egg's mistake of looking back, when I don't think Viserys and other bothered to teach her alot about him is fitting.

I think he would have adored her

my thing about dany and her family members is that i think they would have really struggled to understand her- targaryens in the royal house have never treated their daughters particularly well and she is this cycle breaker who got dragons to hatch by looking forward instead of backwards. (and maybe this goes vice versa a little bit too- dany can’t really understand what it’s like to be raised in immense privilege with power being a natural expectation and not something you have to take.)

like i bet egg WOULD love dany, but i think if she was his daughter, King Aegon V would’ve still married her off for political gain. that’s the difference between the two is although they had very similar goals, Egg got too entrenched in the feudal system and the rot got him in the end. genuinely believe none of her ancestors would be able to understand what exactly let her walk out of the fire unharmed and with dragons and that’s why so many of them including egg killed themselves trying to do it.

[fragilefangirl]

Of Skies and Economy Class

Meeting in an airplane AU :) in this fic, Dany and Jon are not related. Characters are OOC.

--

Dany could recognize that beard everywhere.

At this point, she had subconsciously accepted him as a part of her frequent flight home. Like Starbucks cinnamon rolls, the long line for the ticket, and that nice flight attendant named Melisandre with the really impressive bun. The man with the beard had almost always been present in her flight to and from Chicago, a constant in her ever chaotic world.

She gulped, glancing at her ticket. Her seat was at 28A, and she wished now more than ever to not be seated next to him again, ever. Because strangely, they almost always got assigned in the seats next to each other.

First meeting, Dany did so much as batting an eye. The only thing filling her mind was home, mom’s delicious pies, the impending arrival of her brothers, and her kitten. She took pictures of the sky with her phone (a dazzling bright blue that day), thoroughly ignoring the man next to her.

The second time they were seated together, she exchanged an awkward eye-contact and a strained smile. Then, to avoid talking (nothing against him, really, Dany was just super awkward at making conversations in general) she put on her earphones. She caught him glancing several times at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, then she caught herself peeking at him when he seemed to be focused elsewhere. To swallow down the embarrassment, she took some more pictures of the sky (now pink-orange twilight).

The third flight, they exchanged a very, very short conversation, if you can call it one. Dany was sneakily trying to capture the grey clouds through the window, trying to not be so obvious and wake the Bearded Man sleeping next to her. Melisandre then came, strolling with the food trolley, asking what they would like to have for lunch. Dany, being closest to the narrow plane alley, spoke without a second thought, “Veggie for me and chicken for him.” Her eyes widen significantly and she clasped her free hand to her mouth, realizing how weird she sound. Sure, she’d observed him several times, how he seemed very cute with his beard and deep voice, how he always ordered chicken for food and how he always sleep with his mouth open but not emitting a sound. But to say it out loud?

Stupid Dany stupid Dany stupid Dany--

When she braced herself to glance, he was already awake, still kind of drowsy but no doubt catching her words. He was smiling, apparently amused. “Spot on,” he said to Melisandre with hoarse, post sleeping voice, but his eyes were fixed to Dany. She wanted to melt into a puddle of shame and never return to the plane again.

But here she was, right now, at another flight with him, sighing hopelessly when she got seated next to him at the fourth time. And what makes it more unbearable was that she got the alley seat, which meant she can’t photograph the sky to divert her mind.

You can do this Dany, only three hours, she chided herself as she pushed her belongings to the overhead cabin. He eyed her with interest, and when they made eye contact, Dany unconsciously blushed and dropped one of her bags.

Who could blame her, really? His eyes were gorgeous.

“Oh my God,” still, Dany was more than mortified. Her previously optimistic thought had taken a freefall to the negative. Less than a minute and you’re already embarrassing yourself, again. She mentally cursed herself as she grinned a sheepish smile, trying to grab the handbag as fast as possible to not prolong the shame creeping into her system.

Only, when she dove to take the fallen bag, she caught his hand instead. He smiled at her as he handed her belongings, and Dany gingerly accepted it. Her throat was dry with ultimate panic.

“Um,” she shifted at her stance, “thank you…?” Her statement sounded more like a question, and she inwardly cursed herself again. What was wrong with her today?

“Don’t mention it.” His deep voice got her, and she glanced up. He grinned, a set of perfectly lined teeth apparent to her. Dany’s mother was a dentist, so she could recognise that he had a healthy set of teeth, not like the commercial eerie white teeth instagram always seemed to advertise. Dany gulped, shifting again, unsure on what to do, until he pat the empty seat next to him, “aren’t you gonna sit down?” He asked.

“Oh!” Dany all but scrambled into her seat, “okay. I’m just--yeah, I should--” her words mesh together into a jumble of incoherent sentence. Mami always said that Dany was a very, very introverted child, and she felt the statement to her bones at the moment. “Thank you. Again.” She said, her hands clumsily gesturing gratitude. Then, before she could stop herself, she blurted, “You have very nice teeth.”

Really, Dany? Teeth? Fucking teeth?

Why can’t humans melt into the ground? She surely would like the feature. It could save her from a lot of embarrassment--like right now.

But instead of giving her a weird look, the man with the beard laughed--laughed!--and grinned once more. “I sure hope so, I floss a lot.” He said.

She blinked, unbelievably stunned that her stupid remark had gotten a very nice reply. And those eyes, they were just so mesmerizing… “My mom’s a dentist, so she taught me how to identify healthy teeth.” She replied, feeling like an idiot. Leave it to Daenerys Targaryen to be able to deliver profound argumentative speech at a room full of people, yet got impressively stuck at maintaining a conversation.

“Well, that’s nice of her,” he smiled, his body leaning a little bit closer. According to Viserys’ psychology books she had sneakily read, the gesture meant interest. “Are you going to follow her footsteps?”

“Beats me,” she blurted out her reply without even thinking through. “I mean, no.” She immediately corrected herself. “I dont have the patience to be any kind of doctor. I’m a freshman at Stanford, taking Law.” She added, wondering how was her major and campus relevant. But she continued anyway, “how about you?”

“Stanford, eh? Same.” He responded. “I’m a med student, though hopefully not for long.” He sighed, rather dramatically. “Those thick books are killing me.”

“My roommate said neurobiology is the worst,” She remembered Sansa and her never-ending complain about the misery of being a med student.

“Oh, she haven’t seen nothing yet.” He shook his head, “wait until you reach upper years, she would beg to take neurobiology any day, I promise you.” He raised an eyebrow as Dany chuckled. “Also, additional info, I don’t have this oh-so-called patience your mom possesses. My friends called me the Jumping Jon, because I’m always rushing everything.”

Jon. That was his name.

“Well, Jumping Jon, you look pretty calm to me now.” She teased him, surprised at her own brave remark. Slowly, she replaced the nickname ‘The Bearded Man’ in her memory with his rightful name. Jon, she thought, a somewhat fitting name for a man so charming.

“That’s because we’re in the economy class and I don’t even have the space to properly rest my legs.” He joked, and Dany laughed, again. “Wait until you see me out from this tiny place,...” He trailed, then his eyebrows narrowed. “Wait, I don’t know your name.”

Dany, caught off guard, quickly replied, “it’s Daenerys. Daenerys Targaryen. But people call me Dany.”

Jon blinked. “Wow,” he said, “That’s quite a mouthful.” Dany felt somewhat offended at the ominous remark, until Jon added, “But then again, I think it suits you, Daenerys.”

“Please, just Dany. Only my dad calls me my full name.” She shuddered at the thought of her father shouting her name at the school parking lot. He had a very weird taste in naming his children, and though Daenerys liked the way her name sounds, it also made her a sound target for kids to pick on her.

“Alright then, just Dany.” Jon teased her, and Dany blushed again. Something about this man is immensely captivating for her. “For what it’s worth, though, I think you fit better with your full name.” He smiled, a kind one Dany had never seen before. “Makes you unique.”

“You think so?” Dany unconsciously tucked her hair behind her ear. Jon’s smile widen and he nodded in affirmation.

The rest of the trip, they talked and talked about anything and everything; from Jon’s crazy professors to Dany’s undying love for her cats. She discovered that he was a model (“unwillingly,” he begrudgedly admitted, “the tuition isn’t going to pay itself,”) and he discovered that she was the winner of the World’s Debate Tournament last year (“Oh, that was you?! Should have known from the platinum hair…”)

When Melisandre and her fellow flight attendant, a redhead named Margaery, arrived with the food trolley, it was Jon’s turn to answer without a beat; “Dany here would like the veggies and chicken for me, please.” He said while winking at Dany. The response prompted thousands of butterflies dancing at the pit of Dany’s stomach, and she swore she could see Melisandre giddily smiling as she took out their orders.

They didn’t even realize that the hours had passed until the flight attendant announced that they would be landing soon, please fasten the seatbelt, thank you.

Dany didn’t think that her flight could be better, but then Jon leaned to his seat and said, “aren’t you going to take a picture?” He asked.

“What?”

And then she saw it, he blushed. Jon, the bravado med student who had entertained her with his wit and overconfidence, blushed at Dany when he realized what he had said. “Um, I mean,” he said, scratching his head, “you usually take pictures of the sky every flight…” He said, sheepishly.

“Oh,” Dany blinked. He had noticed? “Sure, I’ll just…” She whipped her phone, then captured the sky once more. The outcome was rather brilliant, a clear night sky with the moon and the north star. Combined with the framing of the window, this was her best shot of the sky so far.

But nothing, nothing beats the feeling when Jon sneaked a peek, then said, “wow, those are great.”

When she left the plane, the photo became her wallpaper.

She couldn’t wait for her next flight.

--

Bonus

“They’re talking!”

“Hush!” Chided Margaery at her fellow friend. “Melisandre, you’re going to wake the whole first class!”

“I don’t care,” said Melisandre, “My ship just sailed, Margie!” She gushed, giddily. Margaery raised her eyebrow.

“You mean our ship?” Asked Margaery, challengingly. “The whole crew literally ships those two together, Lis.”

“Oh, this is wonderful news! I gotta tell everyone!” Melisandre beamed at her friend. Margaery shook her head.

“You’re deranged.”

“Every fangirl is. You’d be lying if you’re not happy.” Melisandre gave her a sly look, and Margaery couldn’t exactly oppose her statement. “Oh, and remind me to thank Tyrion later.”

At this, Margaery narrowed her eyes. “Why would you thank the website admin?”

“Why else would they be seated next to each other all the damn time, Margaery?”

Fin.