Daenerys Targaryen Artwork Novels & Stories

The woman left, everyone looked at Altar gasping. "Dont y'all look at me we all had choices" Altar shrugged his shoulders. "I didnt know king Dorian was gonna go through with that demand" Karl said "Yeah? Me neither" Altar laughed "I must've really impressed him." "Yeah no shit you might just take my job if I'm not careful" Karl said Altar scanned Karls beautiful grey armour. It shined brighter than his own old rundown armour. "I'm finally gonna get me one of those" he felt the symnbol symbol of Dorne carved on Karls breastplate - the setting sun behind the three cliffs.

"There's proof of a sort at Storm's End. Robert's bastard. The one he fathered on my wedding night, in the very bed they'd made up for me and my bride. Delena was a Florent, and a maiden when he took her, so Robert acknowledged the babe. Edric Storm, they call him. He is said to be the very image of my brother. If men were to see him, and then look again at Joffrey and Tommen, they could not help but wonder, I would think." "Yet how are men to see him, if he is at Storm's End?" Stannis drummed his fingers on the Painted Table. "It is a difficulty. One of many." He raised his eyes. "You have more to say about the letter. Well, get on with it. I did not make you a knight so you could learn to

Even with his skin being pale, his manly features still stood out; his electric blue eyes housed by hooded lids, tall pointed nose, chiseled jawline all came together to bring forth such an ethereal beauty — as if the hand of a divinity themselves worked to create this masterpiece of a creature. At first glance, it is indeed difficult to believe that a person who also walks atop the earth could be this gorgeous, but what could even be more unimaginable than him being able to reshape himself alike those huge, frightening creatures known as 'Dragons'? "You never did because you're not capable enough to." "How sure are you, darling? Try me," he provoked, lips curved into a devilish smirk. "Tch.

“Enter the Hall of Pain. There, the final trial awaits.” Nyra nodded, determination rekindled. Ryker brushed water from her hair. “I’ll be right beside you.” She offered him a fierce smile. “Together.” The Hall of Pain was a vaulted chamber carved from obsidian stone, lit by braziers of crimson flame. Every surface was etched with the blood‑runed glyphs of the first queens; warnings, prophecies, and curses that flickered in the firelight. At its center stood the Iron Throne of Agony: a seat of black metal lined with sharpened spikes and chains that gleamed like blades.

Warning: +18 DAXTON The moment Mason burst through the studio doors, his face pale, I knew something was wrong. I dropped the paintbrush in the bucket by my side, turning the unfinished painting away from him. It was my most sacred art. A painting of the woman who'd occupied my heart. "What's wrong?" I asked my brother, and shortly after, Tyrone literally dragged Arya into my studio. She looked dazed, trapped in a world I couldn't see.

"Alpha King… This is what my daughter wanted... I promise that I will pledge you loyalty for eternity, but I just want you to go on one date with my daughter. I promise that you will change your mind once you meet her." "One date?" Tyrion smirked. Alpha Marcus nodded excitedly. "Yes! She is waiting outside! I will call her in!" He ran to the door before Tyrion could react. As the door opened, a slender, tall woman walked in. She had curves in all the right places, long platinum-blond hair, and mesmerizing crystal-blue eyes. As if she wasn't stunning enough, she was wearing a fitted wine-red dress with a deep neckline, perfectly emphasizing her breasts. She was pure sex with a touch of elegan

She drank deep. Descendants of the ancient kings and queens of Qarth, the Pureborn commanded the Civic Guard and the fleet of ornate galleys that ruled the straits between the seas. Daenerys Targaryen had wanted that fleet, or part of it, and some of their soldiers as well. She made the traditional sacrifice in the Temple of Memory, offered the traditional bribe to the Keeper of the Long List, sent the traditional persimmon to the Opener of the Door, and finally received the traditional blue silk slippers summoning her to the Hall of a Thousand Thrones.

"Tilt your face towards the sun a bit Morgana.." Tony says and I obey, angling my face towards the light. Tony asked to take some pictures of me for an art exhibit he is working on and well, I said yes. It's not like I have anything better to do anyways. "Should we be doing this during lunch time. Don't you want to take pictures outside? In the sky? With nature?" I ask him with a raise of my brows. "Yeah yeah, we'll definitely take pictures of you outside. I'm just taking these ones now cause I can't get over how amazing your features are. I could photograph you all day.." Tony says to me with a grin on his face.

"Lady Daenerys looks like his fiancé. She's touching her silver ring way too many times." "Lady Daenerys?" I lift my eyebrow. "That's the name which popped in my head after seeing her braided hairstyle." She shrugged. "Look at her cheeks. She's probably feeling hot, but is shying to take off her coat, afraid to interrupt Dr. Clarke." "She's showing off her coat, trying to persuade Dr. Clarke to buy her another," I suggest, aligning the fork and knife. "Umm, no," she glances at me. "The way I see, Daenerys is trying to find an excuse to get up and leave."

I’m not so good with my antique furniture. Above her desk hung a painting similar to the ones outside on the walls where we’d first entered the school. This one was of a woman who looked a lot like Mage Jaye, wearing a blue hood, and holding a sparkling silver sword. I had to imagine this was a different Mage Jaye, one of her ancestors. The woman in the painting somehow looked even more harsh than the one seated in front of me, and I wouldn’t have thought that was possible before I saw the artwork.