Why I Don't Want Daenerys To Get Married Again On 'Game Of Thrones'
I have watched Game of Thrones from the very beginning, which means that I have experienced all the heartbreak the show has to offer in real time. Despite the tragedies in Westeros and beyond being rife and frequent, perhaps none have affected me as much as the joint deaths of Khal Drogo and Khaleesi's son way, way back in Season 1. Maybe it's because it was my first foray into truly comprehending what this cold, unfeeling fictional world had to offer. Or, maybe it's because I ended up championing Daenerys and Khal Drogo against my better judgement. Whatever the case may be, the fact of the matter is, I have never gotten over it. Which brings me to my point — when Game of Thrones Season 7 premieres, I don't want Daenerys to get married again, and not only because of Dany's love for Drogo.
Yes, I do think Khal Drogo was "the one," and yes, the wounds from his loss are still fresh. But while I shipped Drogo and Dany more than I've shipped almost any duo on the show, the reasons I don't want Dany to get married again go so much further than her actual romantic relationship with the Khal. First of all, Khaleesi's marriage to Drogo felt imperative. It was her awakening, her training period for greatness. In a powerful (albeit problematic) way, Khal showed Dany all that she was made of. But, in all honesty, it was his death, not his life, that helped her live up to that potential. She had no choice but to go at it alone. She grew into the Khaleesi she is today because of her strife and championed through it with self-reliance. Her resilience is what really earned her that royal title.
Then there's the issue of marriage itself. In real life, marriage is often more than status, but a sign of love, commitment, stability, and family. But, in case you haven't noticed, Westeros doesn't play by those rules. In this world, marriage is very much a business arrangement, one that sometimes happen to have a happy side effect of love. So, while I dug Khaleesi's relationship with Daario Naharis, because like, hubba hubba Michiel Huisman, I never wanted them to tie the knot. I didn't want Khaleesi's greatness tied to someone else.
Even Cersei, who can be seen as one of the most dynamic and worthy throne opponents in this ruthless game, isn't given the courtesy of having her own agency, due to her connections to the men in her life. She has always been Tywin's daughter, or Robert's wife, or Joffrey and Tommen's mother. Khaleesi, on the other hand, was able to shed her male-associated title early on. Because of that, she has had the opportunity to prove her greatness all on her own, something not many women in Westeros have ever been given the chance to do. And, unlike Cersei and practically any man that has ever come into power save for the likes of people like Ned and Tyrion, Dany has done so in a mostly just way. To let someone else claim that success, in this cutthroat fantasy world, seems so incredibly wrong.
That's not to say that Khaleesi hasn't made her fair share of mistakes, and hasn't benefited from being advised by people wiser than her. But in owning her own mistakes, she should be able to own her own accomplishments, too. In the end, regardless of who's telling her what, it's Dany who makes the ultimate decision when it comes to governing, conquering, and fighting. It is her shoulders on which she lets the weight of the world rest. Khaleesi has a real shot at the throne, and it should be her alone on that pedestal when she does.