( She sat by the window in the warm air, relishing the shade. )

One was not a queen -- widowed or not, dethroned or not -- without some accumulated wealth. And having been here for half a year now, Dany had decided that it was time to adapt to the local culture. More than just through her clothing collection, which was gathering more and more modern pieces as time went on (though today, and most days, she ( Read more... )

It was remarkable, how much pleasure Dany could derive from the simple arrival of a bird. But Tuesday afternoon, when she was gently cleaning Viserion's scales (he'd gotten into something or other, and his lovely cream coloring was sort of a marred brown), there came a tapping at her window ( Read more... )

Dany had absolutely no idea how to dress for a Homecoming, except that it was formal -- and she, decidedly, had nothing to wear. She'd burned her wedding gown, of course, so that was out (and she wouldn't, anyway) and Dothraki garments and even her loose gowns from the Free Cities wouldn't do ( Read more... )

While Dany had not hallucinated herself into a coma, or a love affair, or gone upstairs to look for skis and never returned (not that Dany knew what skis were), she had kept quietly to herself for the weekend. She'd kept quietly to herself for weeks, if she was honest, and it was time to stop. She was a Targaryen -- no, she was a khaleesi, and she ( Read more... )