Flight By Night

For the first time since Moro's Khalasar had found her, a genuine smile broke out on Dany's face. Behind her Moro was speechless, he had ducked when Drogon had flown by, and was only now slowly standing back up, a bewildered expression on his face.

"A—a dragon..." He stuttered. "It's...you're..." Dany glared at him, then took a step forward. Moro backed away, back into his tent. "Don't follow me!" She growled, and rushed off across the camp, cradling her tits in her arms as she ran.

The camp was in disarray, men were drawing Arakhs, or notching arrows in bows, as if hoping to strike the Dragon with a well-placed shot, but Dany paid them no mind; it was difficult to hit a Dragon even in favourable conditions, but trying to hit a black dragon in the middle of the night? Futile didn't begin to describe it. She saw Drogon turn back on himself and come around for another fly-over, this time spewing flames over several tents all in a row, and catching just as many Bloodriders in the blast. The men writhed and staggered all about, tracking the flames close to other tents, and onto the dry, dry grass. More likely to set the whole of the Dothraki sea aflame than water it at this rate, she thought.

Dashing between two tents, she looked up and called Drogon's name. Another roar, louder this time. "To me!" She cried, "Here, Drogon!" To his credit, the young Dragon took heed, and another two fly-bys later he swooped down and landed on a big, empty stretch of field surrounded by a line of tents on all sides. The very same, Dany realised with a jolt, the Elder had made her put on that little show in.

She beamed at the sight of him, the boldest and brightest of her 'children', she started forward toward him, but someone caught her by the arm and spun her round. "Where are you going, Dragon Queen?!" The Elder shrieked, her face mere inches from Dany's. "Leaving so soon? Before we even arrive at Vaes Dothrak?!" Dany tried to push the old woman away, but she gripped her arm with a gnarled hand and wouldn't let go.

Finally, in a fit of pique and desperation, Dany screamed. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME YOU DISGUSTING HAG!" And stomped on the old woman's foot as hard as she could. A stream of Dothraki curses spewed forth from the woman's mouth, and Dany saw her opening to get away. Unfortunately, in her other hand, the Elder held a curved knife, and it was at this moment she brought it down, aiming at the small of Dany's back. Unknowingly, Dany all but spun on the spot moments before breaking out in a **** sprint toward Drogon, and the sudden movement on her part threw the old woman's aim off, so that instead of wounding Dany in any way, it passed through one of the lengths of string on the side of Dany's knickers, which was just about helping hold them up.

The result was that as Dany ran, one side of the knickers peeled away from her body, and this in turn proved too much for the string on the opposite side, and so it was that the one bit of underwear, the one bit of clothing Dany had left, undid itself, slithered away from her hips and plopped silently onto the grass. So great was Dany's desperation that she didn't notice this at all until she had reached Drogon, feeling a curious lack of, well, anything as she raised her leg and prepared to hoist herself up onto the Dragon's back.

She hesitated, just for a moment, and looked down at her crotch, finding herself staring at her once more uncovered Vulva, pink and delicate as it always was. "Damn it all to the Seven Hells," she whispered, before climbing up and bidding Drogon to rise in Valyrian. The Dragon obeyed, and despite everything, as they lifted off from the ground, she found it felt good to be on dragonback, with the wind in her hair once again.