Chapter 20: Fire & Blood

South. They flew South, Drogon glided through the clouds as swift as a shadow, his large black wings whipping against the wind as loud as thunder. Dany, held onto him tightly, grasping the black scales of his neck in her hands as tightly as reins. The North was vast. Dany marvelled at the size of the pine-covered hills and snow capped mountains and the harsh barren land masses in between them. Dotted among the snow-covered peaks, were villages and holdfasts, all of them beginning to look more and more like ants as Drogon rose into the clouds. He climbed higher and higher into the vast expanse of sky and soon the people and holdfasts below began to look like patches of color in the distance, until they seemed to disappear and all that Dany could feel or see was the wind. Dragonstone called him home. She could feel it, like a siren song calling to him, and to her. Dany felt him twist beneath her as he glided along the wind, and it felt like he was reading her mind, or he knew where she wanted to go. She held her body close to his and he felt like flame made flesh, hot, and powerful, and dangerous. Her silvery braid fluttered in the wind. In the distance she could see Jon Snow, riding Rhaegal. It's as if he was born to ride. She thought to herself. She watched him holding tight to Rhaegal, his dark curls tossed by the wind. He took command of Rhaegal as if he were born to do it. She knew that she and Jon would make it to Dragonstone long before anyone else. It would take two days of riding to get to Dragonstone by air. The ground troops were going to take a fortnight to reach them. She could hear Drogon, beginning to breathe heavily. We will need to need to stop soon. She thought. Daenerys was going to take her cues from Drogon, and when he was tired they would rest. The snowy expanse of the North soon gave way to greenery as they reached The Neck. Jon flew over to her now, with Rhaegal, and seemed to be signalling that they should stop to rest. She nodded at him, and Drogon seemed to know also what they intended because he began to dive towards the ground. She held on tightly to him, squeezing her thighs together, and laying her body flat against his as they barrelled down against the wind. They flew over swamp land, and soon they reached an open patch of green land. The land before them took on more detail, as Drogon got closer. He was almost close enough to the ground now to touch it with his feet, and he did, with a running stop, and Dany held on as tightly as she could, so as not to slip off of his back. She looked around to see that Rhaegal had landed before them, and Jon was petting his green and bronze scales. Daenerys released her grip from Drogon, and he lowered his head so that she could dismount. She walked over to Jon, smiling.

"You are a natural born rider Jon Snow." She regarded him with some fascination.

"I'm glad you think so," he smiled. "Do you know much about this part of the country Your Grace?"

She shook her head, "No, I must say I do not. The landscape is...unique."

Rhaegal lowered himself to the ground, and Jon began to dismount. He walked over to Daenerys then, adjusting his cloak.

"This is the Neck. My lord father was great friends with Howland Reed, he is Lord of the Neck. We are still in the North, if you can believe it."

"The North is quite vast."

"It's larger than any other part of the Seven Kingdoms…"

Daenerys had become rather close to the "King in the North" as he had styled himself.

"Lord Snow," she interrupted, "we should probably feed and water the Dragons."

"Your grace, there seems to be a body of water over there," he pointed towards what seemed to be a smallish lake. "As for feeding them...I'll leave that to you." There seemed to be a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Daenerys, said, "They hunt for their own food. But I worry about them straying too far."

"I'm sure they can take care of themselves Your Grace." He was watching now as Rhaegal and Drogon sniffed the air. It seemed that they could smell the water.

"Once the Dragons are rested, will we fly straight to Dragonstone Your Grace?"

"Yes."

"You have many enemies. We may want to avoid any areas over hostile territory." His eyes looked worried. He continued, "Of course. We should try to fly a great deal of the distance in darkness...if possible."

"Do you imagine that our enemies will pluck us from the sky Lord Snow?"

"Truthfully. Yes."

She could tell that he was well and truly worried. "I am no weak flower Jon Snow. I am the blood of old Valyria. What can anyone do to me? I have two full grown dragons."

"Pardon me, your grace, but all it takes is one well placed arrow, right here," he said, putting his hand over her heart.

His touch made her heartbeat quicken. She placed her hand over his, and pressed her body up against his palm.

She smiled, "You worry for my safety."

"You are my queen."

"Is that all I am?"

She began now to press her body against the full length of him, and she could see in his eyes that he longed to hold her, but something prevented him.

"Your grace, I…" Before he could finish his sentence she kissed him. His lips were soft, and warm, and full and she sucked gently on his lower lip. He pulled her closer then, almost crushing her in his arms.

"You should learn about me Jon Snow."

"I'm trying," he said, looking at her as if she were a puzzle.

"I am a Targaryen," she said mischievously, "I am a conqueror, I take what I want."

"Is that what this is?" He said stroking her hair. "You are taking what you want."

"Yes. With fire...and blood."

"Well, hopefully it won't come to that," he said with a wry smile.