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 trueblooded 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 and granted status. She thus held a certain political power, but 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 q ueen, Daenerys proves to also possess a “face that launched a thousand shi ps.” 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 puts their interests first. 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 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 descri ption. The terrible power of Melisandre and R’hllor, as well as Daenerys’s own ability, thus attest to the greatness of her future.

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 kingdom? 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 monsters… 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?

hen 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 an innocent 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. 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. In other words, 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 antici pate the next book, I fear the release of her dragons, and I fear the measures that she will take to conq uer Westeros — but I do not fear her going mad. There has been no cause, no hint. And if Daenerys falls into insanity, it would spell the ruin of the series’ most impressive, inspiring, and compelling character.


Although the universe of Game of Thrones is steeped in a medieval atmosphere, several of the central in the series – Daenerys Targaryen, Joffrey Baratheon and Jon Snow – seem directly inspired by characters from Roman antiquity. George R.R. Martin, author of the novels behind the hit HBO series, has affirmed that the history of the Roman Empire was one of his sources of inspiration. Indeed, it was the 117km wall that the Emperor Hadrian had built in the north of England in the years 120 AD that gave him the idea of the Wall. Martin tells of visiting the site one autumn evening: the sun was setting and it was getting cold. After the departure of the last tourists, the novelist said he felt the loneliness and homesickness of the Roman legionaries posted there 2,000 years ago. Of course, the author’s imagination has transformed Hadrian’s Wall into an immense barrier of ice in the Game of Thrones saga. At 200 meters high, Martin’s Wall is worlds away on Hadrian’s fortification, but its function remains the same as that in Antiq uity: to preserve the “civilized” world from a formidable external threat. To breathe life into his fictional characters, Martin was able to exploit and adapt elements found in the work of ancient historians, including Suetonius, Tacitus and Dio Cassius. He also drew inspiration from the landmark television series I, Claudius (BBC, 1976), and Rome (2005-2007). Like Game of Thrones, the HBO series Rome featured abundant violence and cruelty that was intimately linked to the political sphere, the ambitions of its leaders and their thirst for domination.

alliance to jointly control the Roman Empire: the military leader Pompey the Great, the rich Crassus, and the ambitious Julius Caesar, who dreamed of turning the Republic into a monarchy. The members of this triumvirate will each experience a violent and atrocious death. Crassus, who thought he could defeat with the Parthians, enemies to the east of Rome, was defeated at the Battle of Carrhae in 53 BC. According to a tradition reported by Dio Cassius (Roman History 40.27), after Crassus’ death, the victors pour molten gold into his mouth as a symbolic punishment for his inexhaustible greed. Viserys Targaryen will suffer a similar punishment. After being defeated at the Battle of Pharsalus in 48 BC, Pompey fled to Egypt, where he was decapitated – like Eddard Stark. Four years later, Julius Caesar is stabbed to death by a group of traitors, including his adopted son Brutus. “You too, my son,” would be Caesar’s last words. In the same way, Jon Snow will be the victim of a conspiracy hatched by his entourage. The young Olly, playing the role of Brutus, carries out the coup de grace.

After his death, Julius Caesar, the idol of the lower classes, is deified and a temple is dedicated to him on the Roman Forum. Jon Snow follows the model of Jesus, another historical figure of the Roman era. By his physical appearance alone, Snow is clearly in the tradition of Christian iconography. His politico-military aspect is modeled on Caesar, however: Snow possesses the charisma and virtues of the ideal leader who puts himself at the head and in the service of his people. Game of Thrones also contains several adaptations of political characters from imperial Rome. In contrast to Julius Caesar, a positive figure, Caligula, the third Roman emperor, represents the delusional Caesar. Suetonius, author of the Life of the Twelve Caesars, portrays a tyrant as violent as it is unpredictable. Caligula has three major characteristics: he is young, cruel and crazy. The resemblance of Caligula to Joffrey Baratheon is striking, both in terms of his character and physical appearance. Even the hair of actor Jack Gleeson is styled in the same way as the emperor on his official portraits. Caligula had previously been portrayed on screen in 1979 by Malcolm McDowell in Tinto Brass’s Caligula. The notorious film added an erotic and cruel aspect to the classic Roman sword-and-sandal epic, prefiguring Rome and Game of Thrones. The historian Suetonius stated that Caligula had incestuous relations with his sister Drusilla. In Game of Thrones, a forbidden love links Cersei to her brother Jaime. Cersei also resembles the empress Agrippina, a cunning and unscrupulous figure who wanted to reign through her son Nero. He became emperor at the age of just 17, a young man like Tommen. Claudius, the uncle of Caligula, was scorned in his youth because of physical disabilities and was dismissed as an idiot. His own mother called him a man “unfinished by nature”, yet he revealed a great political finesse, as does Tyrion Lannister in Game of Thrones. Caligula-Joffrey and Claudius-Tyrion, the nephew and the uncle, form a contradictory pair: on one side the cruel young sovereign, on the other, the intelligent man unjustly denigrated because of his physical appearance. Do not be fooled by appearances

Painting of Queen Boudica (20th century, unknown artist). Boudica or Boadicea (circa 30-61 AD) was a queen of the Icenians, Celtic people of ancient England, near present-day Norfolk. Since the Roman conquest and the transformation of the south of the island into the province of the Empire, the local people, dominated, were treated as slaves by the Roman occupiers. Boudica herself had been beaten and her two daughters raped by legionaries. In 61 AD, she managed to gather a powerful army and led an uprising of the humiliated populations against their