The march was hard, and long, and days blended into one. Days spent riding her silver beside Viserys, Aggo, Jhoqo and Rakharo shadowing them. Feeding the dragons, who grew every day. Teaching them simple commands by rewarding them with titbits of fresh lamb – up, down, left, right, dracarys. Nights spent whispering with Viserys, who loved her more every day. "The Valyrians shall fly again," he would murmur.
The Unsullied were stoic and unbending, though a few succumbed to the heat. Daenerys and Viserys revelled in it. Just as they had discovered when Drogo crowned him, and she stepped into the flames with her eggs, fire cannot kill a dragon. The freedmen became more and well-disciplined as they trained with the Unsullied, and as they progressed down the old Valyrian road, more slaves and peasants joined their banner every day. None challenged them – who would dare? With dragons, the Tagaryens were truly invincible.
One day, when Dany awoke in Viserys' arms, as normal, he kissed her on the brow and smiled, his violet eyes warm. "Its time, my sweet," he told her. "The dragons are huge now. We could fly."
Daenerys beamed. She knew he was right. "We'll fly here, at first," she whispered, "over our armies, but later, we'll fly over Westeros."
"Over battlefields, at first," Viserys warned. "We can't expect to have no enemies."
"But later," Dany insisted. "Later. We'll fly all over Westeros. To Dorne, and the gardens made for my namesake, and to the Neck and the north, to the Wall, to Queen's keep – I'll make it Queen's Keep again!"
"We'll fly beyond the wall if you wish it, my queen," Viserys promised.
They went to the dragons then, to Drogon and Viserion and Rhaegal. Viserys let Dany greet her children first, and then went to Viserion himself. "Hello, sweeting," he murmured to the great beast. Dany smiled to hear his name for her addressed to a dragon, and rubbed her hands over Drogon's neck. "We'll fly now, my sun-and-stars," she whispered. She knew that Drogon was not her dead husband, but somehow she thought Drogo would be happy if he looked down from his starry khalasar to see Dany mounted on a dragon with his name, flying to reclaim the kingdom they had promised their son.
"I don't know why you named the black beast after the savage," Viserys exclaimed suddenly. Viserion flared his wings, reacting to the anger in his tone. Drogon hissed and arched his neck over Dany. Dany soothed him, stroking the thick, rock-hard hide.
"I named him after all those I thought I'd lost," Dany said. "You, our brother, my son, and my husband."
"I'm sorry," Viserys apologised, his anger leaving as soon as it had come. "I love you, sweetling, you know I do. But to think of you with that savage – it burns me inside."
Dany smiled. "I loved Drogo, but before I loved him, I loved you. And I still love you. Blood and fire, Viserys – that is what links us. A bond far stronger than marriage. We were both burned, and we are both blood of the dragon."
"Marriage may be a weak bond, but I think that I want it anyway," Viserys said softly. "I love you, and I want to show the world that you're my queen, not the widowed khaleesi of some barbarian. You're my sister and you'll be my queen and I want you to be my wife. I want us to get married, Dany."
"Truly?" Dany asked, her breath hitching. Despite her dragons and their renewed love, some childish part of her had retained a fear that Viserys would try and sell her again, wed her to some lord of Westeros for a few swords.
"Truly," Viserys said, his face anxious. "I hated giving you to Drogo, hated it more than I can ever say. It burned me more than his 'crown' ever did. Please, Dany, will you be my wife?"
A tear crept slowly down Dany's face. "Yes, Viserys, yes, of course! That's all I ever wanted."
Viserys sobbed with joy, and nearly ran across the gap between them, ducking under Drogon's protective foreleg to embrace his sister. "I love you, Daenerys."
Dany let him hold her, and then pulled away. "Come. Let's fly, brother."
Viserys lifted her onto Drogon's forearm, and Drogon lowered his head so that Dany could clamber across onto his neck and settle herself just behind the spiny crest of his head, holding onto a bony spike that jutted out just between her legs, resting her back against another behind her. Drogon's neck was hot and hard, his hide as strong as stone. She looked across at Viserys, who was just seating himself on Viserion's neck. He looked up, caught her eye, and broke into a smile, the gaunt lines of his face softening as he looked at her. Dany felt tears in her eyes again. She loved him so, she always had. And now he was healed – no longer weak and foolish, but strong and whole as he had been long ago, healed by their love and their dragons. He was the man she had always known he could be.
They spoke the command together, their lips shaping the word. "Fly."
The dragons leaped skyward together, powerful hind legs throwing them into the air, their wings catching the wind and beating downwards, creating a downdraft that flattened the grass beneath and bore them upwards. Dany's breath left her as she watched the ground recede with every beat of Drogon's wings. He tilted a little to the left, catching a thermal, and Dany slipped sideways, and caught at the spine before her, her heart pounding. Beneath them, Rhaegal roared, and took off too, her green-and-bronze hide sparkling below. Drogon opened his mouth and screamed a response, the sound a wondrous, awful song somewhere between a bellow and a rattling hiss. The music of dragons. The sun caught the delicate red patterns on his jet-black scales and threw bright reflections back into Dany's eyes. Red and black, she thought. The Targaryen colours, my colours. Fire and blood, fire and blood – fire.
"Fire, Drogon!" she screamed into the wind, shrill and jubilant. "Dracarys!"
Drogon's huge jaws opened before her and fire rushed from between them, scalding hot, red and white and gold and yellow, a hundred different colours streaming like a pennant before them, fire that would reclaim Dany's birthright, fire that would burn everything on this planet but her and Viserys.
Viserys! Where was he? Dany looked behind her, and slid sideways on Drogon's neck to see below. There was Rhaegal, circling effortlessly, like a hunting hawk, and below him was Dany's army, a little black circle on the ground. She was shocked to see how high they had come into this endless azure sky. But where was Viserys?
A roar echoed up from below them as Viserion's gleaming white bulk dropped like a stone towards the ground. Daenerys' heart stopped. Viserys!
She didn't think twice. "Drogon, dive!" she leaned forward on his neck, trying to direct his head to the earth. But she hadn't taught him to dive, not yet. "Down! Down, Drogon!" her words were almost lost in the gale of wind that nearly tore her from Drogon's back as he clamped his wings to his side and plummeted earthwards. Clinging desperately to his neck-spine, tears were forced out of Dany's eyes by the wind, her hair whipping behind her, the skin on her face nearly ripped away. She didn't cry out, her only fear being for her brother, her eyes fixed on Viserion.
Suddenly, another hissing shriek shook her, and Rhaegal whipped beneath them, far too close. Instinctively, Drogon flared his wings, and their crazed descent stopped as Drogon began to circle again. Fearfully, Dany peered below, just in time to see Viserion's wings unfold as he skimmed over the ground, seemingly close enough to stretch out his legs and land. And crouched on his neck, emitting faint whoops of exhilaration, was Viserys. Dany smiled with relief and let Drogon fly where he would, swooping almost lazily through the sky, graceful and effortless. Rhaegal followed him closely, letting out shrill hisses of annoyance and smoke every now and then. Dany smiled at her youngest child. She loved her too.
"Tell her I love her, Drogon," she whispered to her firstborn, her strongest child. She was never sure how much of her speech Drogon understood, but he seemed to listen, flicking his tapered ears back on his head to hear her voice. A low rumble throbbed through his whole body, vibrating Dany, as he responded. She rubbed his neck, smiling to herself. "I love you too, Drogon."
She looked upwards, reminded again of Drogo. "If you are watching, my sun-and-stars," she whispered, "I hope you look on me kindly. I love you, but I was always meant for Viserys. It is what the gods intended when they spared us."
Drogon growled again, and he began to climb once more, spiralling upward, leaving Rhaegal far below, snapping idly at small clouds and gusts of winds. Dany decided to test his training.
"Left," she said, tapping his left side, and he immediately lowered his wing on the left side and turned in a slow circle. Dany beamed and wished that she had some meat to reward him with. She would have to work on more commands: one for levelling out.
"Dany!" a cry from beneath rang out. Drogon looked down, allowing Dany to see between the spines of his crest. Viserion was climbing too, not that far below them. "Dany!" Viserys called again. "Wait!"
Dany wasn't sure how to ask Drogon to wait, but Viserion hissed deep in his throat, and Drogon circled patiently until Viserion was beside him.
"This is amazing!" Viserys called across, his silver hair tousled, his cheeks red from the wind, his lilac eyes bright and joyous. He looked years younger, carefree and youthful.
"Fly, Drogon," Dany said, and Drogon beat his wings and began to fly rapidly away from Viserion, who snarled in protest and set off in pursit. Rhaegal's frustrated roar rang out behind them.
"Where are we going, sister?" Viserys shouted over the wind, clinging like a little boy to Viserion's spine.
"To Westeros!" Dany called back. "We're going home!"
Viserys laughed, and Dany looked up at the sky, where she knew the stars were even during the day, hiding, and thanked her khal or the gods or whoever was responsible for her brother and her children the dragons, thanked them from the bottom of her heart.
Rhaegal called again, from nearer this time, and her smaller, slightly quicker frame whipped beneath them. Dany leaned out to look for her. "Rhaegal!"
Drogon rumbled in warning and shifted his course to the right, forcing Viserion to fold his wings and drop away beneath them, as Rhaegal streamed up like a vertical green banner to the left, roaring and belching smoke. "Rhaegal!" Dany called again.
Rhaegal reappeared to Drogon's left, flying on a level with him. Drogon hissed and whipped his tail at her, and she dropped down to Viserion's level. "Don't worry, my sweet one," Dany soothed him. "We all know that you are the lord of the dragons."
Rhaegal snorted out a burst of fire, and Dany felt sorrowful that her other brother was not here with them. The dragon has three heads. Rhaegal was riderless, and jealous of the attention given to her brothers. Until the third head was found – most likely when Dany bore Viserys' child – Dany would just have to ride two of her children.
She stood, slowly, uncertainly, balanced precariously on Drogon's neck, holding the spine before her. Drogon growled, discomforted. "It's all right," Dany promised him, before turning to where Rhaegal flew below.
"Daeneys!" Viserys' cry rang out in alarm, and Viserion bugled his rider's fear. "What are you doing?"
Dany almost laughed. "Mothering." Then she leaped out into space, plummeting earthward. Drogon's scream of fury and alarm was instantaneous, making her ears ring, and Viserys shouted her name. But then she fell, with a horrible thud, onto Rhaegal's back. Rhaegal hissed in fear and rolled sideways in the air to get this unknown missile off her, and then Dany was falling again, with no dragon beneath her now. for half a second she was proud of Rhaegal's advancement – she hadn't even known that aerial manoeuvre was possible – but then she began to call out, shocking herself with how calm and commanding her voice was. "Rhaegal! Rhaegal! Catch me!"
She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself not to look at the rapidly approaching ground, focusing all her will on calling her dragon to her. "Rhaegal! Rhaegal!"
Suddenly, she was no longer falling. An iron grip had closed firmly around her: she was lying on something. Tentatively, Dany opened her eyes, half-expecting to see her khal before her, but all that met her eyes was the black and red of Drogon's skin, his three talons curved carefully around her, creating a loose cage that stood between her and the empty sky. Dany pressed her head against Drogon's toe and sobbed with relief. "Thank you, Drogon. Thank you, my sun-and-stars."
Viserion appeared alongside, and Viserys called out fearfully. "Dany? Daenerys? Are you all right, sister? Dany?"
"I'm here," Dany managed to shout. "I'm alive."
"What in seven hells were you thinking?" Viserys swore furiously at her. "If the dragons weren't already awake, all three of them, you – you would have woken it then, Dany!"
Daenerys laughed a humourless laugh. This was the closest she and Viserys had been able to come to joking about their past.
Drogon snarled, a terrifying, glorious sound, and Rhaegal appeared beneath them, flying slowly now, carefully. If Dany hadn't known better she would have said that the green dragon looked sheepish.
Drogon slowly lowed himself towards Rhaegal's head, keeping up a warning growl all the while, and though Rhaegal flinched a little, she didn't shy away.
Slowly, almost tenderly, Drogon extended his talon towards Rhaegal, who hissed. Drogon snapped his jaws irritably and Rhaegal fell silent. With the carefulness of a glassmaker, Drogon opened his claws and placed Dany on Rhaegal's back, waiting until she was firmly astride before he moved away a little, folding his talons beneath him but still flying close, just above Rhaegal, his black iridescent eye focused constantly on Dany.
Viserys kept looking at her too, as though he feared she might throw herself off Rhaegal's back now. Dany shuddered. He needn't worry. Jumping off dragonback was a mistake Dany would never make again.
They flew back to camp, with Drogon hovering over Rhaegal like an anxious mother hen over its only chick, and Viserion flying close below. They fanned out to land, and Drogon growled at Rhaegal until she carefully lowered her neck and placed her head on the ground to allow Dany to dismount safely. Dany turned to Rhaegal first, and stretched up to rub her fingers over Rhaegal's eye ridge, something she loved. Rhaegal shut her great green eye and purred like a cat, leaning her huge head into the caress. Drogon snarled angrily and Rhaegal whipped her head back as though she had been scalded. Drogon pointedly placed his own head on the ground and waited until Dany laughed and began to scratch his nose.
Viserys was there then, snatching Dany into his arms and holding her to him. "You idiot! You cretin, you fool, you idiot! What were you thinking? You almost died!"
Dany put her arms around him as he hugged her fiercely, protectively. Drogon rumbled in displeasure and reared his head up again.
"I'm fine, I'm safe," Dany soothed her brother, shocked to see the tears on his face. "Viserys – it's all right –"
"No its not!" he snapped. "I almost lost you! You idiot girl! You must never, ever try anything like that again!" he seemed ready to shake her.
"Viserys…" Dany said quietly, and Viserys breathed deeply, collecting himself.
"I'm sorry, sweeting," he apologised sadly. "But if I lost you now – after all we've been through – I can't bear the thought."
Dany hugged him tighter, glad now.
They stayed like that for a while, until Rhaegal began to hiss impatiently again, and took off in a flurry of dust. Viserion glanced at Viserys, and spread his wings to follow her. Drogon snorted in disapproval and maintained his protective position over Dany, one wing arched over her and her brother.
Dany pulled away first. "Which way will the camp be?"
"It would be easier to see from the air," Viserys said. "But I don't want to fly again today. Lets recover."
"Viserys," Dany smiled, shaking her head. "I'll be riding Drogon into battle soon. You can't be so protective. You and Viserion will never get far enough from us."
"I know," Viserys sighed. "I suppose its lucky that your black beast is so protective. Though Balerion would have been a more appropriate namesake for him than your savage."
"I loved Drogo," Dany said sharply. "Stop calling him that. He was my husband, Viserys, and you chose him for me!"
Viserys looked shocked. "I know – but – I – I was jealous. I still am. I don't like to hear his name on your lips. I want us to forget him."
"I can't," Dany said simply. "He was my sun-and-stars, I was the moon of his life. He was the father of all my dragons. Rhaego was his son. I had a son with him, Viserys. I had a family. I can't just forget them – because you're jealous. It was your choice."
"It was the wrong choice," her brother responded. "A foolish one that I have regretted since I made it. I am sorry for it, Dany, and I always will be. But I can't get over my jealousy, just like you can't forget the sav– your horselord."
Dany turned her face away. "Viserys, I love you."
Viserys smiled with relief and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "And I love you. So all our jealousy and dead husbands don't really matter, do they? After all, we'll be king and queen some day. Ruling together, as equals, you and I."
Turning back to him with earnest eyes, Dany shook her head. "Viserys, I love you, but I can't give you more than that. I can't obliterate my past for you. I won't."
Viserys kissed her forehead. "And that hurts me, but it is my own fault, is it not? Forgive me my jealousy, let me forget my past, and you can remember the horselord to your heart's content."
"My queen!" a voice sounded in the distance, and Dany looked up to see Ser Barristan approaching at a flat-out gallop, his horse sweating, foam caked around its mouth. Drogon hissed as he approached, a long, low rattle like a snake.
Dany nodded as her knight reined in his horse. "Ser."
"My queen, you did not tell anyone that you and your brother were to fly," Ser Barristan said anxiously as he dismounted and knelt to her.
"That's King Viserys to you, Selmy," Viserys snapped, his imperious, hard self again. Only Dany saw the true man within him.
The aged knight dipped his grey head. "Of course." He turned his attention back to Dany. "If we could return to camp, my queen? It is hot out here today: I worry for your grace's health."
"It is only hot for those who wear full armour on the dothraki sea," Viserys sneered. Dany could not resist a smile, remembering Viserys' one-time discomfort, before he learned to go without a shirt. Viserys looked down at her, and though his mouth remained emotionless, his eyes sparked with mirth and she knew he remembered too.
Selmy dipped his head again, and addressed Dany once more. "Your bloodriders and Ser Jorah have ridden out in search of you, my liege. If you will return with me – or take my horse, your grace – we can recall them."
Dany smiled down at her old knight, but she could feel the tension in Viserys' body. He hated Ser Jorah almost as much as he hated Drogo, and was convinced that he had designs on Dany. Dany herself was uncomfortable around Ser Jorah now, since he revealed his lust for her. He made her uncomfortable, though she was not afraid of him. The dragon fears no man.
"There is no need for you to give me your horse, Ser," she responded to Ser Barristan. "I have Drogon here, after all."
Viserys snorted. "But since Viserion has left us, perhaps I may take the horse." He looked sardonically at the old knight. "If, of course, Ser Greyhame will allow me the honour of borrowing his nag?"
Ser Barristan, to his credit, showed no sign of having been insulted, but merely inclined his head to Dany. "If that is what her grace wishes."
Viserys let go of Dany abruptly, but not before she had felt him shaking with rage. "It is what I wish, dog," Viserys spat. "I am your king. Do not make me call Viserion back to teach you some manners."
The knight raised his wrinkled face now, and a hint of steel showed in his expression. "I am captain of the queensguard – her grace has taken no husband and thus there is no king."
"I am king!" Viserys snarled, and raised his hand as though to strike Selmy across the face.
"Viserys!" Dany said, and he stopped abruptly. He breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling, and he looked from his raised hand to the knight kneeling before him, and back to Dany. He clenched his jaw and let his hand fall, turning his face away. he turned and stalked away into the grasses, his cry ringing out – "Viserion! Viserion!"
Dany watched her brother go, her sadness plain on her face. Viserys still had demons; far too many. He was still prideful and vain, and he still struggled to control his temper. But at least he could control it now, and did so willingly.
Viserion shrieked overhead, as he flew down to land in the grass where Viserys waited unseen. Drogon rumbled and spread his wings, stretching them to their fullest extent before settling them back in their protective curve over Dany. He was anxious to be gone.
Ser Barristan still waited for Dany's orders, his head bowed and emotionless. "Thank you, Ser," Dany said finally, in a quiet voice. "Your concern for me does you credit. Ride back to camp now. Do not trouble yourself about recalling my kos. Drogon and I will fly ourselves. Now I know I can do it, and he needs the excersise."
Selmy dipped his head and rose. Dany bit her lip. "And Ser?"
"Your grace?" he turned back.
"Please address my brother as king from now on," Dany said, more of a plea than a command. "He will be a good king. You do not know him like I do."
"Of course," Ser Barristan agreed automatically. "But your grace – if I have your leave to speak plainly?" He waited for Dany's nod before he continued. "Your brother is not the ruler you are. He has too much of Aerys in him. I fear for Westeros, if he rules."
"Remember we will rule together," Dany said. "As equals."
"But he is angry, your grace," Ser Barristan said earnestly. "Angry and filled with pride and vanity. He is too impulsive. He cannot be trusted with decisions of warfare."
"He has suffered much," Dany murmured. "More than even I know. He has sacrificed much and more for me in the past. He is my brother, Ser, and a Targaryen. Fire and blood – he is filled with fire."
"Fire unchecked can wreak vast damage," Ser Barristan warned.
"His is not unchecked. He is changing daily – he has made so much progress. A few years ago he would have beheaded you for not addressing him as king. Now he merely walked away."
"To a dragon," the knight pointed out. "Are you sure he should be trusted with Viserion, your grace?"
"The dragon has three heads," Dany responded. "Viserion chose him. Ser Barristan, the gods restored my brother to me from beyond death. There was a reason for that. We are the rightful rulers of Westeros, Ser. Both of us."
Ser Barristan dipped his head again. "Then if you trust him, I trust him, highness." He turned away and mounted his horse, and Dany tapped Drogon on the flank, and he lowered his great neck to allow her to climb on.
"Until tonight, Ser!" Dany called, as Drogon raised her above him. Ser Barristan's anxious mount tore away from the dragon as he put his spurs to it, and Drogon threw back his head and roared at the top of his voice, shaking the earth, as Dany whispered to him: "Fly."
He leapt into the air, his heavily muscled wings carrying them high into the air. Ser Barristan dwindled into a speck at once, falling away below them. Drogon circled once or twice, and then set off in an easterly direction. Dany looked to where the camp was, away to the west of them, and tapped Drogon's neck lightly. "Left." He adjusted his course and flew lower, perfectly in tune with Dany's thoughts. It was mere minutes before they came upon Rakharo, who was trying to control his white-eyed horse as he waved up at them. Dany touched Drogon again. "Down, my darling. Let's land."
Drogon slowly desended, hovering for a moment before placing his legs delicately upon the grass either side of Rakharo's frantic mount, before folding his wings and leaning forward, putting his weight on them as he twisted his long neck around to watch the horse hungrily as Dany dismounted, smiling at her bloodrider.
"Blood of my blood," Rakharo leapt off his horse and grinned at her, speaking in the dothraki tongue. "I am glad you are safe. We all thought the black monster had carried you and the sorefoot king away to eat. I did not care so much about Khal Rhaggat, but you are important, khaleesi."
"I am safe, as you can see, blood of my blood," Dany smiled. "And so you can return to the camp. I am on my way to seek out Jhogo and Aggo and tell them to return too. It would never do to allow my bloodriders to get lost in the great sea, would it?"
Rakharo laughed, his smooth young face light. "It is you who is always lost, khaleesi. That is why we must search for you."
Dany laughed, but her mind was still on what Ser Barristan had said about Viserys. "Blood of my blood, I must ask you an important question. Will you answer it honestly?"
"Of course, khaleesi," Rakharo nodded, sober at once.
"Do you despise my brother?"
Rakharo frowned as he pondered the question. "He walked, and a man who does not ride is no man at all. This is known. He called himself a khal, but he had no khalasar. He tried to hurt you, that time in the grass, and I must despise and hate anyone who would harm you, blood of my blood. All this you know. But after Drogo crowned him, he seemed changed. He is calmer now, a little."
Dany smiled, relieved that Rakharo too had seen Viserys changed. "You are observant, blood of my blood."
Rakharo laughed. "I must stop men killing you, khaleesi. If I saw nothing, how could I do that? But to answer your question – at one time, I believed that I did despise Khal Rhaggat. But now I am not so sure. He rides a dragon now, no mere horse, and he seems as though he has become your khal. He is no longer loud and furious – his anger is more reined in, like a vicious horse that pretends to be tame, only to kill its owner with a kick from behind. I would say that now, I fear him instead."
"That is not the answer I hoped for," Dany sighed. "I believe that my brother is a good man, on the inside. He is kind and brave and he has sacrificed so much for me."
"Perhaps that is why only you can see in his heart," Rakharo offered. "If he has given up much for you, like a stallion who lets himself be captured so that his herd have time to escape, then he must love you, and will show you things that he shows to no other. Perhaps, with you as his khaleesi, he can grow to be good and kind to others also."
Dany sniffed, and hugged Rakharo, resting her head on his copper skin, so like Drogo's. "Thank you, blood of my blood. You have eased my heart." Rakharo's hands hovered awkwardly for a moment, and then he lightly rested them on her upper back, barely touching her until she withdrew, apologising.
"Don't apologise, khaleesi," he smiled. "After all, I have not yet met a woman who could resist me."
Dany laughed and leaned against Drogo's muzzle, which still hovered beside her. "Your head is so big it will brush Drogon as he flies soon."
"That is not all I have which is large, khaleesi," Rakharo raised his eyebrows with a wide smile.
Dany was still laughing as she remounted Drogon. "Go back to the camp, blood of my blood. Try not to trip over your large appendages on the way."
"I may visit your tent, khaleesi," Rakharo called up. "Jhiqui likes me, I think. Perhaps Irri, too. Maybe both of them!"
"Fly, Drogon!" Dany shouted through her giggles. "Fly!"
Drogon leapt skyward once more, leaving Rakharo below. Dany flew in a large circle around the camp, meeting Aggo and Jhoqo on the way, telling them both to return to the camp. She continued to fly after that, musing on what Ser Barristan and Rakharo, her favourite bloodrider, had told her about Viserys. She also stayed aloft in case he and Viserion should reappear and he wanted to speak to her alone. Few places were more private than this empty sky. Rhaegal joined them after a while, flapping beside Drogon and exchanging a few chirrups and hisses with him. Dany wished that she could understand the speech of her children. She tried to mimic one of their chirping noises, which they used only when they were feeling peacable with one another. Rhaegal looked sharply at her, while Drogon only made a low, ragged growl that sounded a little like laughter. Dany thought about her children. They none of them had fixed genders, she knew that, but she had always thought of Drogon and Viserion as her sons, and Rhaegal as her daughter. She wondered if that was their correct genders, at least currently – but who could tell a dragon's gender? Would Rhaegal, if she was female, come into heat soon? Could a dragon get any hotter? Drogon would rise to fly with her, of course – Viserion could never defeat him.
Rhaegal seemed to become bored after a while, and began to fly in loops and spirals over and around Drogon, first coming closer to him, then darting away. Dany wondered if it was just play, or the beginnings of courtship. Drogon didn't respond, though; he only growled irritably if Rhaegal passed to close to his neck, where Dany sat. Rhaegal persisted at first, and then hissed in annoyance, showing all her gleaming black teeth and the smoke curling out of her mouth, and then pinned her wings to her sides and dropped like a stone out of sight. Dany leaned forward to pat Drogon's neck. "You don't have to guard me always, my sun-and-stars. You could set me down at camp, leave me there, go to fly with Rhaegal, play, mate with her if you can. You are dear to me, Drogon, but I don't ask you to be my nursemaid."
Drogon purred at the sound of her voice but only harrumphed when she had finished speaking. Dany sighed. "I know you can understand me; I know it. I only wish I could understand you."
Drogon cocked his head to look down at the ground and made a noise in his throat.
"What is it, shekh ma shieraki anni?" Dany asked, enjoying the Dothraki words.
Dipping a wing, Drogon circled down, allowing Dany to see what he was looking at. Ser Jorah Mormont, craning his neck up to look at them as they descended, raising an armored fist in a gesture of welcome.
"Land a distance from him, Drogon," Dany said reluctantly. "I don't really want to see him."
Drogon made to fly upwards again, but Dany laughed and patted him firmly. "No. we must, now."
"My queen!" Jorah called as they landed, spurring his horse into a gallop towards them. Dany flinched at the possessive tone to his voice. She hated it. As though this man, this crippled, aged, exiled bear, could own her, a dragonrider, queen of the skies! No man could own her but her sun-and-stars, who was dead, and Viserys, her soulmate.
"Ser," she said slowly, not dismounting. Drogon kept his neck high, forcing Ser Jorah to look up at her.
"Daenerys," Jorah said, his tone reprimanding. "Come down and greet me."
Dany clenched her jaw, furious as ever she had seen Viserys. "I could have you killed for that."
Jorah laughed and rode closer. "If you wanted me killed, you would have set your dragon on me long ago. You want me, Daenerys."
Dany felt her nostrils flaring with rage. "I do not! You presume too much, Ser!"
"Come down from there," Jorah said sharply. "I want you now, Daenerys. You have kept me waiting too long."
Dany looked down at him, trying to put all of her disdain and disgust for him into her eyes. "Come no closer, Ser. I have never wanted you. Why do you persist in these advances?"
Jorah rode closer. "Liar. You wanted me from the moment you saw me. When you were bedding your khal, you thought of me. As you're fucking your incestuous brother, you probably gasp out my name."
Drogon snarled, and Ser Jorah's horse skittered backwards. "You disgust me," Dany spat at him. "You pathetic, lecherous old man. I am a queen. Why would I want you?"
"I don't know," Jorah spread his hands, his smile lewd. "But you do. Now come and have me."
Dany felt as though her body could not contain her rage. "I have been the khaleesi of the greatest khal ever to walk the earth, a man who was never defeated. I will be the wife of Viserys, dragonrider and king of Westeros. Why would I ever, ever, desire a broken old man?" she leant forward. "Let me make myself clear to you – I have never wanted you, I do not want you now, and I will never want you. So leave here now. Do not return to the camp. It was not your right even to search for me – you are not my bloodrider. Leave here, and if I never see you again, I will spare your miserable life, old bear."
Ser Jorah blinked as she ended her tirade. Then his face cleared and the lewd smirk returned. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."
Filled with a blinding, white-hot rage, Dany heard herself scream a command. "Dracarys!"
Drogon's mouth opened, and out of it poured a torrent of fire hotter even than Dany's fury. Dany watched Ser Jorah melt within the flames – it was too hot for him even to burn. He just melted, and then, just like that, Drogon closed his mouth and the fire and Ser Jorah were gone. Not even ashes remained, just a black blast mark upon the floor. Drogon made a satisfied sort of snort and turned away from the spot. Dany felt a little numb. It was over. Those months of fear that Mormont would do something that could not be laughed off, that he would attempt to take what she would not give, that she would be forced to kill him – all gone. He was dead and it was over. She felt lightheaded, and began to laugh. "He's gone, Drogon! He's dead!"
Drogon sniffed half-heartedly at the blackened ground, as though in hope that some horsemeat would remain, and sniffed in disgust when there was none. He looked skywards, and Dany took the hint. "Let's go home."