Daenerys Targaryen: A Helen of Troy, Queen Cleopatra … and Bloody Mary?
As the fifth book of A Song of Ice and Fire series, penned by the prolific George R. R. Martin, comes to a close, Daenerys Targaryen is adrift in the Dothraki sea. She has returned to the land of Khal Drogo, her sun-and-stars, and is once again under the sky that watched her become a woman, khaleesi, and true-blooded Targaryen. Rather than riding on a silver horse, she arrives on a dragon’s back, fleeing Meereen and the uncertainty of her future. She is lost and alone, with only the savage Drogon for company; but she is Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt and Mother of Dragons, so we know her story is far from finished.
The obvious question persists: who will she become? Will Daenerys remain in the East as the mother of freed slaves and enemy of the local elite? Will she reach the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, which are vulnerable and bleeding from civil war, to claim her father’s throne? Will she — as the television show claims — fall prey to the “taint” in her blood and devolve into a suspicious, bloodthirsty, mad Targaryen?
To speculate about her future, we must consider her past. In some ways Daenerys has been a Helen of Troy — a coveted woman, a political tool, a central figure in men’s ambitions. As a young and innocent girl, she was given by her brother Viserys to Khal Drogo, with the understanding that a hundred thousand Dothraki horsemen would eventually help him regain the Iron Throne. The Dothraki do not buy or sell, Daenerys insists, but she also argues that she was sold by her brother, that she tasted fear and bondage because of him. Like Helen, her value lay in her beauty and her birth. Possession of her promised pleasure, status, gain. She thus held a certain political power, though it did not belong to her, nor was it hers to control.
As an adult, a woman widowed and famed for beauty, Daenerys continues to spark desire in men as close as Qarth and as far away as the Iron Islands. Unknown to her, Victarion Greyjoy bears down on Slaver’s Bay at the head of the Iron Fleet, thinking to claim “the most beautiful woman in the world” for his own. Even Quentyn Martell, a prince of Dorne, sails across the sea to ask for her hand in marriage. And with much of the power of the East closing around Meereen, seeking to destroy this revolutionary queen, Daenerys proves to also possess a “face that launched a thousand ships.”
But in more ways she is a Queen Cleopatra — charming, intelligent, determined, and maligned by the men discomfited by her competence and command. With the death of her husband and her son and the birth of her dragons, Daenerys grew into a mature woman and asserted control of her husband’s remaining khalasar. No longer passive, she assumed power; it was not given to her. As khaleesi, she bears responsibility for her people, makes decisions with their welfare in mind, and seeks to provide for and protect them. Having been vulnerable and afraid as a child, she has compassion for the weak and helpless, but none for the cruel: in order to rescue slaves, she orders the deaths of their masters. She is a threat to the wealth and power of Slaver’s Bay — as Cleopatra was to the culture and supremacy of Rome — and so she is feared, vilified, and attacked. And though she is the fruit of a dynasty built upon incest (just like Cleopatra), Daenerys is not mad. She is extraordinary: her dignity, strength, and vision make her a wise and just ruler, a queen loved by her people (whom she calls her children) because she is attentive to their concerns (which are her own). The more she develops, the more I long to see her fly to Westeros and claim the Iron Throne.
And it is so enticing to view the Iron Throne as her fate. Westeros has been ruled by Robert Baratheon (whom Dany calls the Usurper) and torn apart by the causes of different kings, but Daenerys would return it to Targaryen control. All would come full circle. Moreover, she strikes me as George R. R. Martin’s darling: she is gorgeous, she is a natural leader and gracious queen, and she is the Mother of Dragons — in short, she is flawless. Perhaps she is too perfect to be the solution, the promising end of the series; for we all know that Martin lives for plot twists and turns, for the shocking and devastating. We need only recall, albeit reluctantly, the Red Wedding.
I would discount Daenerys as too obviously the desired conclusion — and therefore unlikely to triumph — except for two factors: her dragons (an undeniable source of power) and the prophecy that guides Melisandre, the formidable priestess of the red god R’hllor. Melisandre repeatedly speaks of the return of the prophet-legend Azor Ahai, the one whose coming will be heralded by a blood-red comet, who will be born amid salt and smoke and wake dragons from stone. Melisandre is confident that Stannis Baratheon, current Lord of Dragonstone, is this promised man, but we all know that Daenerys Stormborn is the one who truly fits that description. The terrible power of Melisandre and R’hllor, as well as Daenerys’s own ability, attest to her future’s great potential.
However, as much as I want Daenerys to win back Westeros, I dread the slaughter of both warriors and common people that is inherent in conquest. It is for this same reason that Daenerys herself hesitates. Thus far she has shown no qualms in shedding the blood of the guilty and cruel, but the blood of the innocent is another matter entirely. Is she willing to make that sacrifice in order to regain her father’s throne?
The end of A Dance with Dragons says yes. Wandering in the Dothraki sea, weakened by a lack of food, water, and shelter, Daenerys hears the stars and grasses speak to her. While she lies in a fitful sleep, the cold stars question her decisions and resolve. “Remember who you are, Daenerys,” they whisper. “The dragons know. Do you?” Daenerys wakes sore and aching, forced to face the reality from which she fled. In truth, Daenerys has come to fear her dragons, to fear herself. Viserion, Rhaegal, and Drogon are savage beasts, wild and ruthless, for whom humans are prey. Though she loves them, Daenerys also sees them as monstrous … but if they are monsters, what is she, their mother, if not a monster as well? Whose blood is on her hands? Whose blood runs in her veins?
Then the tall grasses of the Dothraki sea rebuke her in the gruff tone of Ser Jorah, her old friend and betrayer. Why has she lingered in the East and forsaken Westeros? “I was tired, Jorah,” Daenerys responds. “I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl,” she protests, but the voice of Jorah Mormont disagrees. “No. You are the blood of the dragon… Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.” Daenerys replies, “Fire and Blood.” Dragons — warfare — vengeance.
Though adrift in the Dothraki sea, Daenerys has discovered her path forward. She had distanced herself from her dragons and put them in chains because Drogon, a predator difficult to control, killed a little girl, and she could not bear the guilt. Yet now it appears that her dragons are an essential part of her identity and her future, regardless of the danger they pose to others — and to her own moral status. Dany seems to accept the fact that her cause entails death for those opposed. But waging a war and bearing responsibility for its bloodshed is not the same as persecuting the innocent or committing atrocious crimes. Though I am not defending the former, I am pointing out that Daenerys can be a conqueror without deteriorating into a cruel murderess, a Bloody Mary. She can be both Targaryen and sane.
Ultimately, we, like Dany, are at the mercy of the author. We must wait to see her fate unfold according to Martin’s plan. As I anticipate the next book, I fear the release of her dragons, and I fear the measures that she will take to conquer Westeros — but I do not fear her going mad. There has been no cause, no hint, no reason. But if Daenerys does spiral into insanity, I must say that it would spell the ruin of the series’ most impressive, inspiring, and compelling character.
