Good day dragonlets! It seems about time that the mother of dragons and queen of general badassness told her story to keep you all informed of her adventures and just to make sure none of you forget anything.
My tale is sad and somewhat dramatic. Daddy was murdered long ago by hatefully handsome Jaime Lannister and my rather dreamy brother Rhaegar suffering the same fate at the hands of revoltingly rude Robert Baratheon, who seized my family’s throne for himself and married the Kingslayers beautiful, wealthy but dangerous sister Cersei. My mother had died giving birth to me and left me entirely alone in the world with only my brother Viserys for company. Vissy is sadly nothing short of an ass, far more interested in curling his hair and dreaming about being king than in his neglected little sister.
We began our tale with my brother and I, far away across the narrow sea, availing ourselves of the hospitality of Illyrio Mopatis, rather glad that the name of Targaryen still carried some respect. Illyrio and my brother rather thoughtfully arranged to sell me to a barbarian horse lord in exchange for an army to help my brother regain our family’s throne and reconquer the seven kingdoms. Less than impressed by this, I found myself rather pleasantly surprised to discover my prospective bridegroom was quite a dish, despite being the size of a small mountain. The wedding proved to be…interesting. The Dothraki people’s customs nothing short of barbaric in my eyes and my wedding gift from Illyrio, a box containing three rocks [Somebody please pass that man a Tiffany catalogue!] somewhat underwhelming. I was more pleasantly surprised later to be informed by my new BFF, Juicy Jorah, that rather than being excellent ammunition for throwing at my vile brother, they were in fact, petrified dragon eggs. From that moment I loved them, a strange, almost unearthly obsession attaching me to the glittering objects and they were never far from my sight. I could almost have sworn they were alive…
As we wended our way toward our destination and with a little [cough] gentle schooling from my handmaidens, I managed to soften my hunky barbarian husband toward me and rather quickly fell both pregnant, and stupidly in love with my ‘sun and stars’. Somewhat unfortunately, I also, inadvertently managed to have the same effect on Juicy Jorah, and more than a few lingering looks were thrown my way, thankfully unnoticed by said husband.
Once we reached the Dothraki city of Vaes Dothrak [Not quite a honeymoon in the Bahamas, but beggars cannot be choosers] my brother once again decided to ruin everything by having one too many cups of Dornish red and struck me in a fit of anger, as was his habit when we were children. Cue angry hubby…and angry Jorah. [Bad move bro] After somewhat miraculously escaping being mauled to death by my now adoring subjects due to my pleas for his life, my brother was left to follow in my wake, silently fuming that everybody hated him. Ignoring said sulking had now become much easier, filling my time with concentrating on my husband and my pregnancy, and trying and ingratiate myself with my new people as best I can. [Dothraki for dummies having been a name-day present to help the language lessons along]Eating an entire horses heart [Damned pregnancy cravings] in the middle of a party, may have been a tad excessive, but certainly seems to have gone down well with my new friends.
Little deliberation was needed for me to declare my unborn baby would be named ‘Rhaego’ for my glorious fallen brother and I also managed to delight the resident witches and husband with my acceptance of the traditions of their people. Less so Vissy. Once again, jealous of the attention baby sister was getting and raving about being king, he made another, rather foolish mistake and attempted to steal my precious [cue Gollum voice] dragon eggs. This rather annoyed Jorah, who caught him in the act. Returning after another splurge with the Dornish wine, Vissy then made his worst mistake yet. Demanding hunky hubby made good his promise to set him atop his throne under pain of taking back both me and our baby with a barrage of threats. Cue angry hubby…really…REALLY angry hubby. One pot of molten gold and this time, no pleas for clemency on my behalf, [I am mother protecting her baby after all] was all it took to permanently ruin Vissy’s immaculate hairstyle and send him on his way to join daddy in the seven hells. [No doubt complaining about the lack of adequate seating all the way]Sadly for me however, hunky hubby was now less keen on the throne idea, despite it now being my inheritance.
Meanwhile, back in Westeros, King Yetti mysteriously learned of my pregnancy and instead of sending flowers and teddy bears, sent some rather sloppy assassins. His second attempt to kill me was thankfully thwarted once again by Juicy Jorah [The poisoned wine can only have been Cersei’s idea] and was enough to finally persuade my husband, in a frankly drool-some fit of rage at someone daring to harm the ‘moon of his life’ to seize the seven kingdoms for our son with fire and blood. [Cue mass swooning]
Our progress through the desolate lands was arduous, the Dothraki methods of war, again quite shocking me with their brutality, and drew protestations for clemency from me for the poor villages through which we passed. My indulgent husband’s agreement to do so managed to spark a fight and gain him a nasty wound before he divested his attacker of his internal organs. Thankfully, the resident local witch came to his aid after I had rescued her from would be attackers. However, the wound festered and would not heal as we continued our journey and my glorious mountain fell from his horse. [Major Dothraki deal] Despairing for his life, I called in witchy to try and save him, to her assurance that she was able. This sparked yet another fight with Juicy Jorah dashing to my aid yet again [He does play the knight in shining armour rather well…wait…who said that?] but not before I managed to get injured and go into labour.
My baby was born dead and deformed, strangely dragonesque with scales to boot, to my utter horror and heartbreak. Witchy then did indeed save my husband, but barely, leaving him just a breathing shell, only just existing in the land of the living and hovering between this world and the next. Witchy then stupidly admitted that she had done this deliberately in revenge for the harm caused to her village, draining the life force from my poor unborn child to save his father, knowing it would leave him in that state. Cue angry Dany…Cue awakening the dragon. Unable to bear the sight of my beloved in such a state…I did the only thing I could, the only thing I knew he would want me to do and I ended his torment. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces as I felt the life drain from my sun and stars, my resolve to take what I wanted from the world only strengthening.
I set his funeral pyre [Adding withy tied to the side for kindling and revenge purposes] I found myself struck with a sudden fancy. Gathering my dragon eggs into my arms, I stepped into the fire [Ignoring Jorah’s pleas to not be so stupid] and emerged the following morning clutching three rather adorable baby dragons. It seems the eggs were not so petrified after all. [Yes Drogon darling, I am talking about you and your brothers…Cue dragon preening] Those witnessing my miraculous survival seemed rather impressed to have not found a smouldering body where I sat and fell to their knees proclaiming me the ‘Unburnt mother of dragons’ swearing their undying fealty to my cause. And this is where we end. Not uneventful as you see, but only the beginning of my journey. I shall return later with the next instalment as the Wifi signal here in the desert is poor at best and Viserion is trying to eat one of my handmaidens.