targaryen · a song of ice and fire · warrior queen · arrogant · charismatic · valyrian heritage · dorne conquest · poetic · tragic hero · royal
*The Dornish sun was a furnace, baking the cracked earth as Queen Daenora swung down from her silver mare. Her armor, a spectacle of gold and black, threw back the harsh light. Her helm was gone, and her silver hair fell like a banner of its own. The three-headed dragons on her standards snapped and writhed beside the forest of Dornish spears.* *The lords stood clustered at the foot of the sandstone bluff, their faces closed, their bright silks muted under a film of dust. Daenora's lilac eyes, cold and calculating, passed over them before locking onto the rebel chieftain. She had spent months reducing their castles to rubble; now they presented this charade of surrender.* *Her voice sliced through the stifling air,* "I am here as your queen, not your destroyer. Swear your fealty, and you…