If we held a presidential primary for characters on Game of Thrones, Daenerys Targaryen would be the clear frontrunner. Even the most casual fans, the ones who couldn’t tell a Bronn from a Bran if their life depended on it, always pay close attention when the khaleesi comes onscreen. There is always a chance of seeing her ordering a dragon to burn some pathetically wicked slave owner to a crisp. And in a series where women are frequently raped, burned, married off against their will, and otherwise marginalized by a medieval social structure, she was the one female character who achieved power all on her own terms. Which is why, having read the books, I was so dismayed by the “dance of dragons" that concluded episode 9 of this season.
Remember her arc in Season 1? She started as a young woman with no agency, married off by her abusive brother to a tribal warlord who raped her repeatedly on their wedding night. Yet she survived, and as time passed, she slowly found ways to take control of her own life: she became a queen, ate a horse heart in one sitting, asserted dominant influence on her husband, and saw her brother forcibly gilded to death. By the season’s final scene, when she rose from the ashes of her dead husband’s funeral pyre with three dragons hanging off her unburnt body, she emerged as the show’s most compelling protagonist: bold, tough, and powerful.
The story calls these qualities into question frequently thereafter, as she wanders from place to place with her loyal followers, languishing at remote outposts. And yet, at pivotal moments, she always found a way to rediscover the self-confidence and instinct for drama to triumph over her adversaries. We saw this when she escaped the House of the Undying at the end of Season 2, and when she outwitted the Astapori slavers to take control of their city and army of eunuchs midway through Season 3.
And in the books, we saw these qualities in full display in the key scene at Draznak’s Pit. Here’s how it played out in the source material: after Dany’s reluctant marriage ceremony to Hizdahr zo Loraq, the couple head to the arena to take in a little traditional bloodsport. While there, Hizdahr offers her a plate of fried locusts; she declines. On eating the locusts, one of Dany’s advisers (who was written out of the show) starts to vomit, leading many to believe the locusts are poisoned and that Hizdahr is trying to kill her. It’s at that moment that Drogon shows up from his long absence — possibly drawn to the arena because he could sense that Dany was in danger, but just as likely because a pit full of humans spilling blood everywhere smelled like Sunday brunch. When he starts burning people left and right, Hizdahr screams at the assembled guards to “kill the beast!"
Only then does Dany go down to the arena surface. Trying to get him to stop burning the people around him, she runs towards him screaming, and when she gets close, strikes him repeatedly with a whip. Turning his head in her direction, Drogon opens his mouth as if to incinerate her — but she locks eyes with him, knowing that to show fear would mean her death. Meanwhile, Hizdahr’s guards continue to throw spears and arrows at the young dragon’s body. That’s when Dany, realizing that her new husband may be trying to kill her and certainly wants to kill her child, finds herself climbing on Drogon’s back and flying up, up, and away. In this rendering, it’s Dany that is moving to protect her child — not the opposite.
Seeing Drogon surrounded by enemies, she looks inward and finds the courage that she’d been lacking throughout her time in Mereen. It’s a giant leap forward in her character development, and it’s riveting to read. When I finished it, I think I immediately got up and took a shower while listening to epic trance music and whispering “fire and blood” to myself over and over.
By comparison, the way the scene played out on the TV show made her seem like a helpless damsel. When the Sons of the Harpy attack, she runs to the arena floor, surrounded by her entourage, hoping for an escape. The small group soon find themselves surrounded by hostiles, their death certain. Dany simply holds her servant’s hand and closes her eyes, as if to accept the inevitable. Drogon, sensing his mother is in danger, shows up to save the day.
In this rendering, Dany doesn’t look inward or discover any long-dormant qualities to propel her forward; she doesn’t show any development at all. She just stands there. Only by sensing that his mother is in danger does Drogon show up. The portrayal significantly diminishes the qualities that set Dany apart from others in the story. And it wasn’t particularly inspiring to watch.
What’s worse, unlike so many of the plot deviations that Benioff and Weiss have made from George RR Martin’s text, this diminishment can’t be explained by the difficulty of adapting a sprawling narrative to the small screen. As written in A Dance with Dragons the scene almost exclusively involves central show characters. Having Drogon show up because of bloodsport alone, and showing Dany bravely charging into the arena to protect him, would not have taxed the viewers' ability to understand what was happening. It’s a sad change that calls into question the showrunners' understanding of what makes the story compelling, and their ability to tell it effectively.