the descent was steep and rocky, but dany rode fearlessly, and the joy and the danger of it were a song in her heart. all her life viserys had told her she was a princess, but not until she rode her silver had daenerys targaryen ever felt like one.
“The woman dies.
She dies to provide a plot twist. She dies to develop the narrative. She dies for cathartic effect. She dies because no one could think of what else to do with her. Dies because there weren’t any better story ideas around.”
eleven / daenerys / vanessa ives
“She dreamed; her lover was always younger and more handsome, though his face remained a shifting shadow”
#Snowstorm#Jonerys
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“And now when they look east, they see this young queen shining from afar, this breaker of chains.”
“Dragons. These same stories have reached Oldtown. Too many to discount. A silver-haired queen with three dragons.”
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“what are they?” she asked, her voice hushed and full of wonder.
“dragon's eggs, from the shadow lands beyond asshai,”said magister illyrio. “the eons have turned them to stone, yet still they burn bright with beauty.”
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a word, and dany could have her head off … yet then what would she have? a head? if life was worthless, what was death? — dany ix, agot
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