"There, just so." Daenerys snapped the lock shut, fastening Arya to the back of Drogon. The saddle was large enough for two, and the Stark girl sat behind her. She tapped the dragon with her whip, and he leapt forward, into the air. They had launched themselves from Fairford, a village just twenty miles West of the capital, where the vanguard of the army were camped. Already, outriders had made contact with the army of the Vale, and the forces expected to converge within a day or two. The day was fine, so unlike the last time she had flown. Gradually, they circled upwards. Dany could see fields, and towns spread below her, and a haze of smoke where Kings Landing lay.

"How do you like it?" she called to Arya.

"Terrifying" she answered. "But, it's like nothing on earth. Even if I died now, it would be worth it, to have ridden a dragon."

The Queen laughed. "That's exactly how I felt, the first time I rode. Why not try riding Rhaegal, or Viserion when we get back? I can only ride one dragon."

"How would I know if I'm a dragonlord?"

"You don't; that's the thing. You never rule a dragon. A dragon will either eat you, or it will let you ride it. If the latter, then you're a dragonlord. But, the risk is worth it."

Arya didn't reply. Then she asked "Are we heading for the capital".

"No, but there are forces marching for the capital from the Stormlands. Ellaria is still miles away with her army, so I want to disrupt the enemy. " They flew South West across the Blackwater, the Kingswood looming in the distance. They both wore helms and armour, but with their visors open, conversation was easy enough.

"Can I be blunt, your Grace.?"

"Be as blunt as you like. You don't have to call me "your Grace" either, when we're on our own together. You're royalty too, you know." She grinned, knowing how much Arya hated the trappings of privilege.

"How can you be allied to a woman like Ellaria? She murdered her own family to get where she is. "

"A fair question. But then, how can your sister marry a man like Lord Baelish? I've heard much about the man from Lord Tyrion. I can't pick and choose my allies, I can only try to hold them in check. Speaking frankly, Ellaria is an evil woman. But, she holds Dorne fast. I need the Dornish on my side. There are few honourable parties in this war."

"You aren't evil. Doesn't it taint you to ally with those who are?"

Dany laughed mirthlessly. "There are hundreds of thousands of people in this world who would dispute that. Men, women, and children have died at my hands. I have sacked cities. I've destroyed the homes and hopes of thousands. I've reduced palaces to dust. Believe me, Arya, if that bolt had killed me, a million people would have cheered."

"The people you freed wouldn't."

"No, they wouldn't. That's the comfort I hold on to. That, and the fact that I have to save this realm from the threat beyond the Wall." They had now reached the Kingswood, which lay a couple of hundred feet beneath them, the vast forest stretching for miles, with here and there, a clearing for a village or farmstead. "When my blood is up, I can really enjoy killing. I discovered that at Astapor. That can't be a good thing."

"I've enjoyed killing. I made Lame Lothar and Black Walder suffer terribly, before they died. The sons of Walder Frey."

"Go on".

" I removed their faces, slowly and carefully. They were crying, I think, but it was hard to tell. I left them one eye apiece, just so they could see where their next bout of pain would be coming from. I gelded each one. Then I carved them into pieces, and fed them to their father in a pie. Then, I opened his throat. After that, I took his face and invited every male member of that family to a banquet, where I poisoned them. And, I enjoyed every single moment of their suffering. My sister enjoyed feeding her rapist to his dogs. I removed Meryn Trant's eyes, and bled him slowly. He was begging me for death, long before I gave it to him. I don't think there's much difference between the Wolf blood, and the Dragon blood."

"Both our families are predators, for good or ill, " Dany replied. They flew on, chatting from time to time, for a couple of hours, before the trees below them began to thin out, giving way to wide grasslands. Then, she saw her prey, a large squadron of cavalry, bearing the banners of stag and rose, and a column of foot marching behind them ,towards the Kingswood, and then on to the city. "Now, we strike," she called out to Arya "Visor down" she slammed hers shut. She nudged Drogon with her foot, and the dragon glided downwards. Men were screaming below them, breaking in all directions. Some of the horsemen galloped hard for the Kingswood, others scattering into open countryside. Barely thirty feet from the ground, she cried "dracarys" withering a band of horsemen with flames. Systematically, she flew back and forth, burning men and horses alike, seeing armour melting into their flesh as it glowed white hot and flowed down in runnels, before nudging the dragon skywards again. Most of the soldiers had escaped her, but that didn't matter. She raised her visor saying "Most of them don't need to die. We've broken them. Either they'll desert, or they'll reach the city bearing tales of horror. Either is to the good." She flew on, encountering fresh bodies of men, and twice repeating the process. A couple of times, she was struck with bolts, but to no effect. Her armour was too good, and these were men loosing bows in panic, not taking proper care with their aim. "Now we return' she called out, as the afternoon wore on, turning back to the Kingswood. After an hour, they were flying over the deepest part of the forest. "Shall we be bold?' the Queen called out.

"What do you mean?"

Without answering, she began the descent to a clearing, from where woodsmoke rose up. She heard screams as she approached the village and landed. A small crowd of peasants, plainly terrified, had gathered, although she saw others running into the surrounding woods. "Good people, have no fear. I would enjoy your hospitality, that is all." She unfastened the chains, and she and Arya climbed down. One man stood before her, she guessed the village reeve or bailiff, bolder than the rest.

"What do you want with us...your Grace?" He was still unsure whether he was actually addressing the Mother of Dragons.

"To get to know my subjects. Please, I would like you all to drink to my health." She handed the man a substantial purse. Minutes later, she and Arya were being served ale in the village's tavern, the innkeeper fawning over them, as they talked to the reeve, and a group of excited woodsmen and their wives. The ale tasted like dragon's piss, but she gave every sign of enjoyment as she quaffed it. Her mood was light, and only a fool would threaten a woman whose dragon waited watchfully outside. After a couple of hours, they were all quite merry, eating a decent goat stew, as the reeve told a succession of filthy stories, that had everyone in a roar. Even the ale didn't taste so bad, after several mugs of it.

"I slaughter a hundred men in battle, and do they call me Eric Bloodaxe? No. " cried the reeve, now quite drunk. "I build a sept, and do they call me Eric the Pious? No. I father a dozen children, and do they call me Eric the Virile? Never. Yet, I fuck one pig, and what do you think they call me?'

"Eric the Pig-Fucker" shouted the drinkers, laughing uproariously.

Dany and Arya laughed with the rest. "Well, time marches on, we must leave. Thank you for your hospitality. " The woodsmen cheered them as they left the tavern, before slipping behind it to relieve themselves. "Gods above, I'd hang my butler if he served ale like that" she commented to Arya.

"Huh, I've drunk far worse than that" she replied.

"At least it gets you drunk" commented the Queen, as they scrambled on board the great beast. "I've never flown Drogon when drunk, but I'm sure he'll get us home."

Notes:

1. A feature of medieval society is that everyone loved bawdy humour. It's only in later centuries that peasants would have been abashed at telling coarse jokes in the presence of royalty