I'm thinking of making this into a series of little snippets from the lives of our favorite GOT characters, starting with Daenerys, now that I have time. Beware though, the following chapter was written in 2017, and my writing has improved since then. If I do continue writing, I hope any future chapters will contain more dialogue and better grammar.

This chapter I wrote almost two years ago follows Dany's perspective and thoughts about her dragons throughout the seasons, ending in season 7. Her personality may not be spot on, but I hope I did well enough.

Note that English isn't my first language, so I'm practicing my writing on you guys. Feel free to give any critique you might have. It would mean a lot. Moving on from that, please enjoy!

Daenerys loved her children. She truly did, or so she told herself. For who would ever love a beast if not even it's mother could? From the very day they had been born, she had been by their side watching, protecting. Not once in their first year had she left their side. They were her blood and her family, her only family, and she would sooner die than let anything harm them, or so she told herself. They were beautiful. They were hers. She would protect them and raise them as her own, even though they had not come from her body, for it was the right thing to do.

Between the death of her husband, and the birth of her new children, she had suffered. Even before then… she had always suffered. Pain had been a constant factor in her life, in many ways, but the dragons brought no pain, and for that she loved them. She loved them so much that she sung them soft lullabies at night, told them stories and spoiled them rotten, for fate had taken her first son and it would not take the others from her.

Perhaps she had come to think of of them as her children only because she had been grieving her firstborn? Perhaps she had never intended to love them the way she did? Little did it matter. Daenerys was a mother of dragons, and to protect a dragon she would be a dragon, even if her current form was weak. She had always known that her children would outgrow her, and then she would be even weaker. She did not deny it, but even so, for as long as they were small and fragile, she would protect them as well as she could.

There had been times when she feared for their lives, when she feared she had failed them. The house of the undying was one of the worst moments of her life, and Dany had more than a few painful memories to choose from. That time, she had thrown caution to the wind in panic, anger and sorrow. Had her children died there, she was certain that she would have gone with them, because she cared for them more than she had ever cared for anyone.

Yes, she loved her children. She loved them so much that she would destroy the world and then herself if it meant their safety. They were all she had. Even with the world within the palm of her hand, all she would ever have was the love of her darlings. Even if she stood on top of the world with every lord beneath her feet, it did not measure up to how she felt, for what was power if not a way to ensure that her family would be allowed to live? She understood that now.

Power… Her brother had been obsessed with it his whole life, and she had resented him for it, but now she knew. If you had power, no one could hurt you. If you had power, your family would never be in danger. All she wanted was their safety. Daenerys had never been welcomed anywhere because of her lineage, but with a crown on her head she could not be refused, nor could her children. Because of that, she fought not only for her own place in the world, but also for theirs.

Yes, she fought for them, but it was evident that it would not always be needed. They had already outgrown her, and they would surely outlive her as well. Very soon they would realize that they could tower over the tallest man with ease, and very soon they would discover that their mother held not even half of the authority she spoke to them with. Would they listen to her then? Would they still love her as children love their mothers?

It was a frightening thing, indeed, to think that after her death there would be no one to control these beasts. Though, Daenerys doubted she could even do that now. She always had an inkling that in their current forms, they only listened to her out of respect. If they grew even larger, would they simply crush her with their claws if she demanded too much?

If there was anything this queen wanted in life, it was control. And if there ever was a thing in this life she feared, it was losing that control. She hated to admit it, but at times she feared her children. Her own thoughts were no different than the thoughts of the commoners whose cattle they stole, or the mothers whose children they burned. Despite knowing that they currently did as she said, there was always that lingering feeling that they could turn around at any moment and become a true danger. Dragons were not tame, after all. Deep down in her very core, she knew that they would never hurt her, never for as long as she would live, but that could never stop them from destroying everything else should they one day wish it.

She had been blinded by her love for them, and it was a dangerous thing, for as they grew and grew, so did their hunger, and the more they fed, the larger they became. Her subjects feared them and called them monsters. They pleaded with her to chain them away, and Daenerys had to listen. She did not want to, but what could she do? Her own firstborn had been taken from her, so she understood the mothers who pleaded at her feet. She understood the desperation, the heart wrenching sorrow, and she suffered with them. Her dragons were monsters. It could not be denied.

She held no doubt in her heart that they loved her, and yet likewise she held no doubt that if the dragons wanted to eat, she could not stop them. If they wanted to prey on children instead of sheep, they would do so, and if the day ever came where they wanted to tear down kingdoms, they would not listen to her. The day had come where she was powerless, where she first started to fear.

Rhaegal and Viserion they had been able to restrain, but not her Drogon. The shadow of death, they called him. The most dangerous of the three, her most beloved, and she could not tame him. When months passed, and he had yet to return, she had begun to doubt that he had ever loved her. Perhaps this was his escape from her? If she let his brothers go, would they leave her too? She knew that it was cruel to keep them chained up, but if she lost them… Daenerys dared not think of it, nor did she want to.

Despite what the world thought of her, Daenerys was not quite so fierce as she made herself out to be, and the responsibility resting on her shoulders weighed just the same as three large beasts. If Drogon killed, if he burned, if he destroyed whatever caught his attention, the blame would be hers. She could not chain him, nor could she control him, and yet the weight of his sins was hers to carry. As their parent it was her wrongdoing if the dragons did something wrong, and it would not be them but her who had to repent, and that she would do. Over and over she would correct their mistakes, for the ferocity was in their nature and she refused to deny them that, despite the burden it put on her shoulders.

She had chained them once, and never again would she restrain them. Daenerys held perhaps the only voice in the world that her children listened to, and while she knew that they only did so out of love and respect, she refused to abuse that power further. She would suffer if it meant their wellbeing, and she would carry their sins, for Daenerys was not just a queen; she was a mother. Chaining her children beneath the earth had turned out to be a mistake, and she had Tyrion to thank for setting them free when he did. She had not asked it of him, and yet he did. For that she would forever be grateful.

Had he not released them when he did, they might have never seen the sunlight again. Even with all the Dothraki and unsullied, they could have very well lost against the masters, and then her children's blood would be on her. She had been foolish, so very foolish and afraid that she had put them in danger when she thought she was keeping them safe, keeping everyone safe. No matter how far she went, how many battles she won, or how many slaves she freed, she was always afraid. No one had seen her cower since her brother died, she hadn't let herself, but there was always that feeling in the back of her heart. It filled her up with doubt, dragged her down, down and further down into the darkness she could not escape… not alone.

She was glad she had Drogon by her side, and Rhaegal and Viserion. Had they not hatched all those moons ago, when the love of her life left her, the dragon in her own heart might have never awakened. She might have never had the true courage to sail home, home to a place she had dreamed about since she was a child. She might have never set foot in Dragonstone, and she might have never met Jon snow.

It was laughable really, their first interaction. It had been blatantly obvious that he did not respect her as a queen, and Daenerys had been so flabbergasted that she could not help but disrespect him in return. Their conversation had been stiff and awkward, and she had spent many hours debating on what she should do with this "king of the north". She did not doubt that her children knew of her bitter attitude toward this man, and she could not deny that some of that irritation might have transferred onto Drogon, whom she often flew with in times of distress. Her darling son did, after all, know her better than anyone, and because of that, he often tended to mirror her emotions.

Because of that, it should have been no surprise that when Drogon flew her over Dragonstone and spotted him, he decided to take a nosedive. It also shouldn't have been a surprise that her son was fully intending to eat him for being such a thorn in his mother's side, but it was. Daenerys hadn't been able to see where he was headed before it was too late, and small as she was on his back, there was nothing she could do. Few times in her life had she ever been so scared, not for her own life but for another's, and there was little to no time to react. Daenerys was helpless as they landed roughly on the ground and for a brief moment, she saw nothing. Then, the scaly beast started running, swishing his tail and growling from deep within his core.

This was it, then. No more Jon Snow. She should be thrilled that Drogon wanted to help her, thrilled to be rid of that menace, and yet, she couldn't help but panic. For only that brief moment, she was certain that the king would die. Her child would gobble him up whole and let him rot within his stomach. Then, she would have to go to war against the northerners as well as Cercei. A good man would be dead, and more blood would be on her hands.

She should have known better. He did roar, ferociously so, but no more than that, and Jon never wavered. The man simply had to be suicidal to not only stand his ground without blinking, but to also reach out a hand to the beast. Had she not known her own son any better, she would've imagined him chopping it right off his arm, but Drogon was no fool. He must've known that she, for whatever reason, did not want this man dead. He probably also knew why, even though Dany herself did not.

In the future, if the queen was asked about the occurrence, she would smile and shrug, saying that the man was never in any danger. She would laugh it off as her children trying to scare him, rebellious as they sometimes were. Her other two sons had not been daring enough to take such a direct approach, but they were also not as fierce. Deep within her heart, in a corner she dared not touch, behind all the smiles and laughs, still lingered the brief moment of fear she had felt that day. The fear that would not go away, even after years would come to pass, for she did truly not know what Drogon had intended to do. She still didn't, despite all the lies. If the dragons ever decided to tear down kingdoms, she could not stop them. If they decided to kill her, little could be done. For all the power she claimed to have, little of it was truly hers.

Yes, Daenerys loved her children, as any mother should. She had raised them and risked her own life for their safety, because she loved them. Over and over again would she do it, no matter who it destroyed in the process, for they were her own. But as children often do, they grew, and they did not need her anymore. They did not listen, and they were no longer hers. Yes, she loved her children, but even as their mother, she could not deny that she feared them.

Remember to tell me your thoughts! Your opinion matters :)