Horns of War


Dear Danaerys Stomborn,
Of the House Targaryen, The First of her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Khalisee of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons.
Thank you.
Thank you for letting me know that you don’t need balls,
To sit on a throne.
Thank you for letting me know, that when you love someone,
You should know when to let them go,
That when you cannot save him from himself,
That when every magic, and medicine has failed,
The hands that once rest warmly in his,
Can choke him, to end it, once and for all.
My sun and stars, I will be the moon of your life,
But I will not live in the shadow of your eclipse.
Thank you for letting me know that,
I will not perish on the pyre,
With his dead dreams, and that
I may not ride the stallion that mounts the world,
But I will ride dragons that breathe fire and vengeance.
Thank you for letting me know that,
Freedom is my spirit, and the only doctrine of my rule,
That I must set people free, and rule only those,
That wish to be ruled by me,
Even if I have to make them wish.
I was not born with an iron heart,
Nor the stone-cold resolve of a dictator,
But I will love them like the mother,
That I could not be,
And they will love me, for who I am,
Rather than fear me, for who I am not.
Thank you for letting me know,
That even the loneliest of us, need true friends,
That when life has made my tongue bitter,
I will need someone to put my words into sentences,
Someone to convey meaning when I can’t,
Someone to call my own,
Someone to call for help in 19 languages,
When I’m sinking.
Thank you for letting me know,
That I might not have all the answers,
And I will need an imp and a eunuch,
To seek them for me, when I cannot.
That I must respect these half-men,
More than real men,
And give them honor and respect,
To wear like badges with pride on their collars.
But to deal with treason, with cold steel,
Straight through their defiant hearts.
To not be afraid of flying in at the climax,
Just in time, to rescue my people,
My people, yes, ownership,
Thank you for telling me that I need to be loyal,
Not to a man, but to my kingdom,
And that I need to die for them,
If they were to die for me.
Thank you for letting me know,
That when a naked woman, stands in front of a mob,
With a burning temple raging behind her,
No man’s eyes dare rest upon my flesh,
No man dare lust for my fire,
That I will walk through the flames,
And burn on a pyre, again and again,
Until they lower their gaze,
And bow their heads.
And that they may call me many names,
But I will have to earn my titles,
Even if I was born with them,
Just because you I am a woman.
Thank you for letting me know,
That no man should cloud my vision,
Neither love, nor intimacy should precede ambition,
And bidding goodbye to someone who cares for me,
Must elicit no reaction save the eagerness to move on,
Because there will be other men, waiting,
Who I will let in to my world,
But never into my life,
Who will swear their swords and lives to me,
But I will only take their sacrifices,
Who will follow me, and fight battles for me,
But I will fight the great war, alone,
Who will be hurt by me, and hate me for it,
But I will be indifferent.
Thank you for letting me know,
This world isn’t an easy place,
That I cannot move things the way I want to,
When I want to,
That I must wait for my turn,
For an opportunity, for the right moment,
That every mistake I make, makes me vulnerable,
But I am not.
That slowly men will realize my power,
And want to ally with me,
Not just in bed, but in the battlefield,
That they will not look at the curve of my breasts,
But the shine of the crown on my head,
And that I should never stop at stopping the wheel,
I should break the wheel,

Thank you for letting me and every woman know,
That they should take what is theirs,
With fire and blood.

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