They said of the Dragon Queen that where she walked, she was wreathed in fire and trailed ashes in her wake.
They said she burned bright, yet her enemies burned brighter.
They feared her, the people of Westeros. One day, she knew, they would love her, for fear and love were only two sides of the same coin.
Queen of Ashes they had called her first behind her back, then to her face when they realized she had come to bear the title with pride.
“They will love me when all wheels are broken and they see the world I have built for them,” she liked to tell the councilors who had remained at her side and the ones who had flocked to her since. Many would rather stand at a conqueror’s side than in the path of their destruction and Daenerys was not known to be unkind to those who swore fealty late, just as long as they did.
Soon, her lands would be flourishing more than ever before, she knew, for fire burned away the old and made room for new life to sprout, nourished by the ashes of the old. Then, all would see that what she had done was no crueler than to pull out the weeds to make room for the flowers to grow.
Thus, it was that Drogon kept spewing flames and the Dragon Queen’s armies marched on, driven by the promise of a world remade.
“Let them call me monstrous now,” she said as she walked King’s Landing rebuilt - brighter and better and far more glorious, as she had promised, and more loyal than ever before. “History is written by the victors. History will understand.”
…and so the fires raged, for you could not create a new world without burning away the old.