Archer94

And so, The White Wolf and Dragon Queen is complete. After several years, and numerous headaches, i have finally completed it.

Thank you to everyone who had read the story and I hope you enjoy the ending, and will join me for the next step of the story (check the afterword for that)

After a long break, another chapter is up. Hope you all enjoy.

Daenerys watches her abusive brother die, it’s madness.

Arya Stark bakes the Freys sons and feeds them to their father for their betrayal, it’s justice and revenge.

Daenerys executes the Tarlys for their betrayal, it’s madness.

Jon Snow executes the men who killed him including a child, it’s justice.

Daenerys burns the Khals who wanted to rape her, it’s madness.

Ned Stark wants to execute Jorah, a slaver, it’s the law.

Daenerys executes slavers, it’s madness.

Tyrion Lannister roasts thousands alive with wildfire, it’s war.

Daenerys burns thousands alive with dragonfire, it’s madness.

Daenerys Targaryen in Game of Thrones 3.05: “Kissed by Fire”

The show really convinced some people that sansa is a better leader and administrator than Daenerys. These fans are always reminding us that Sansa is such a benevolent ruler and that Daenerys is a very self-centered queen obsessed with power. But in reality, that’s canon Daenerys:

“Dany is an exile. Powerless, penniless, at the mercy of other people.” — GRRM

-

Dany hungered and thirsted with the rest of them. The milk in her breasts dried up, her nipples cracked and bled, and the flesh fell away from her day by day until she was lean and hard as a stick […]

-

Jhogo said they must leave her or bind her to her saddle, but Dany remembered a night on the Dothraki sea, when the Lysene girl had taught her secrets so that Drogo might love her more. She gave Doreah water from her own skin, cooled her brow with a damp cloth, and held her hand until she died, shivering. Only then would she permit the khalasar to press on.

-

The next pool they found was scalding hot and stinking of brimstone, but their skins were almost empty. The Dothraki cooled the water in jars and pots and drank it tepid. The taste was no less foul, but water was water, and all of them thirsted. Dany looked at the horizon with despair.

-

“I fear no ghosts. Dragons are more powerful than ghosts.” And figs are more important.

-

In the coolness of her tent, Dany blackened horsemeat over a brazier and reflected on her choices. There was food and water here to sustain them, and enough grass for the horses to regain their strength. How pleasant it would be to wake every day in the same place, to linger among shady gardens, eat figs, and drink cool water, as much as she might desire.

-

“I’ve brought you a peach,” Ser Jorah said, kneeling. It was so small she could almost hide it in her palm, and overripe too, but when she took the first bite, the flesh was so sweet she almost cried. She ate it slowly, savoring every mouthful, while Ser Jorah told her of the tree it had been plucked from, in a garden near the western wall.

“Fruit and water and shade,” Dany said, her cheeks sticky with peach juice. “The gods were good to bring us to this place.”

-

Inside Meereen the slavers would soon be reclining in their fringed tokars to feast on lamb and olives, unborn puppies, honeyed dormice and other such delicacies, whilst outside her children went hungry. A sudden wild anger filled her. I will bring you down, she swore.

-

“The gods have sent this pestilence to humble me. So many dead … I will not have them eating corpses.”

-

Even feeding them had grown difficult. Every day she sent them what she could, but every day there were more of them and less food to give them. It was growing harder to find drivers willing to deliver the food as well. Too many of the men they had sent into the camp had been stricken by the flux themselves. Others had been attacked on the way back to the city. Yesterday a wagon had been overturned and two of her soldiers killed, so today the queen had determined that she would bring the food herself. Every one of her advisors had argued fervently against it, from Reznak and the Shavepate to Ser Barristan, but Daenerys would not be moved. “I will not turn away from them,” she said stubbornly. “A queen must know the sufferings of her people.”

-

Bless me, Dany thought bitterly. Your city is gone to ash and bone, your people are dying all around you. I have no shelter for you, no medicine, no hope. Only stale bread and wormy meat, hard cheese, a little milk. Bless me, bless me. What kind of mother has no milk to feed her children?

-

Thousands of slaves still toiled on vast estates in the hills, growing wheat and olives, herding sheep and goats, and mining salt and copper. Meereen’s storehouses held ample supplies of grain, oil, olives, dried fruit, and salted meat, but the stores were dwindling. So Dany had dispatched her tiny khalasar to subdue the hinterlands, under the command of her three bloodriders, whilst Brown Ben Plumm took his Second Sons south to guard against Yunkish incursions.

-

Beyond the eastern hills was a range of rounded sandstone mountains, the Khyzai Pass, and Lhazar. If Daario could convince the Lhazarene to reopen the overland trade routes, grains could be brought down the river or over the hills at need…

-

“She changed the subject. “Will the Lamb Men send us food?”

-

“Tell me, can this king puff his cheeks up and blow Xaro’s galleys back to Qarth? Can he clap his hands and break the siege of Astapor? Can he put food in the bellies of my children and bring peace back to my streets?”

-

“You spoke of help. Trade with me, then. Meereen has salt to sell, and wine …”

“Ghiscari wine?” Xaro made a sour face. “The sea provides all the salt that Qarth requires, but I would gladly take as many olives as you cared to sell me. Olive oil as well.”

“I have none to offer. The slavers burned the trees.” Olives had been grown along the shores of Slaver’s Bay for centuries; but the Meereenese had put their ancient groves to the torch as Dany’s host advanced on them, leaving her to cross a blackened wasteland. “We are replanting, but it takes seven years before an olive tree begins to bear, and thirty years before it can truly be called productive. What of copper?”

-

I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit.“ Does it matter that Hizdahr’s kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?

-

She could remember being cold and hungry and afraid, but never sick.

-

“The flesh is not wasted,” said Hizdahr. “The butchers use the carcasses to make a healthful stew for the hungry. Any man who presents himself at the Gates of Fate may have a bowl.”

“A good law,” Dany said. You have so few of them. “We must make certain that this tradition is continued.”

-

She was hungry too. One morning she had found some wild onions growing halfway down the south slope, and later that same day a leafy reddish vegetable that might have been some queer sort of cabbage. Whatever it was, it had not made her sick. Aside from that, and one fish that she had caught in the spring-fed pool outside of Drogon’s cave, she had survived as best she could on the dragon’s leavings, on burned bones and chunks of smoking meat, half-charred and half-raw. She needed more, she knew.

She is genuinely concerned about helping her people. Besides, Dany herself is victim of extreme poverty and hunger. She actually knows how is like to starve to death. Meanwhile that’s what we see from Sansa’s Alayne’s first POV in The Winds of Winter:

It was clever. The tourney, the prizes, the winged knights, it had all been her own notion.

-

Sixty-four dishes were served, in honor of the sixty-four competitors who had come so far to contest for silver wings before their lord. [lots of food description]. And best of all, Lord Nestor’s cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar.

For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more.

-

There were gifts as well, splendid gifts. Each of the competitors received a cloak of cloth-of-silver and a lapis brooch in the shape of a pair of falcon’s wings. Fine steel daggers were given to the brothers, fathers, and friends who had come to watch them tilt. For their mothers, sisters, and ladies fair there were bolts of silk and Myrish lace.

-

The melee was an afterthought, a sop for all the brothers, uncles, fathers, and friends who had accompanied the competitors to the Gates of the Moon to see them win their silver wings, but there would be prizes for the champions, and a chance to win ransoms.

-

“The merchants are clamoring to buy, and the lords are clamoring to sell,” the Gulltowner was saying when she found them. Though not a tall man, Grafton was wide, with thick arms and shoulders. His hair was a dirty blond mop. “How am I to stop that, my lord?”

“Post guardsmen on the docks. If need be, seize the ships. How does not matter, so long as no food leaves the Vale.”

“These prices, though,” protested fat Lord Belmore, “these prices are more than fair.”

“You say more than fair, my lord. I say less than we would wish. Wait. If need be, buy the food yourself and keep it stored. Winter is coming. Prices must go higher.”

“Perhaps,” said Belmore, doubtfully.

“Bronze Yohn will not wait,” Grafton complained. “He need not ship through Gulltown, he has his own ports. Whilst we are hoarding our harvest, Royce and the other Lords Declarant will turn theirs into silver, you may be sure of that.”

“Let us hope so,” said Petyr. “When their granaries are empty, they will need every scrap of that silver to buy sustenance from us.”

[then Sansa completely ignores this important conversation about food and starts complaining about Harry]

Now i ask y'all, how exactly Sansa spending a lot of gold and food on torneys and feasts at the beggining of a harsh winter is supposed to prove that she is “QITN material” or the “new Alysanne” or a decent leader like Jon Snow? How people have the audacity to call Daenerys a selfish/classist/arrogant brat and accuse her of “pretending to care” about others but at the same time claim that Sansa is SO selfless and wise and say that she will rebuild Winterfell and protect the smallfolk (and save them from the evil dragon queen of course) when she is still being THAT shallow and frivolous in her most recent chapter?