“The Dragon Queen and her armies are approaching the Twins, father. Are you sure that we should be antagonizing her?”
 
Walder Frey, Lord of the Crossing and more recently Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident peers at the boy before him with sunken, beady eyes. In truth, the boy was probably more of a man, but when you got to the Lord Frey’s age, every other man was effectively a boy to you. This particular boy was impudent, which likely meant that he was someone important. One of Walder’s many sons, perhaps? Hmph, probably even his direct heir, if he thought he could question his father like this.
 
Not that Lord Frey could say for certain. He could hardly be bothered to remember who the fuck everyone in his worthless family was, these days. The only thing he bothered to pay any mind to was the tightness of his current wife’s cunt, or the lack thereof. If the cunt was loose, then Lord Frey knew it was time for a new wife. Though, that didn’t mean he was in any way incompetent. He just had his priorities in order.
 
“Of course, I’m sure, boy. Everyone pays to cross the Twins. No exceptions. The more they have to give, the more they pay.”
 
“But father, they say she has three full-grown DRAGONS. She doesn’t need us, not really. And our deal for the Riverlands was through the Lannisters, so how do we know we can-?”
 
“Silence! Do not question me, boy. This Targaryen wench might have dragons, but she also has armies. Armies that will need to cross here, or not cross at all. Do you think me a fool? Do you think me senile? Forcing this Dragon Queen to deal with me will secure our hold on the Riverlands, and our family’s new status as a Great House for centuries to come! She will acknowledge our claim, or she will not be allowed to go North, as she so clearly wishes to!”
 
The boy opens his mouth again, and Walder is almost at his wits end, ready to run the brat through, regardless of his blood. But whatever his likely heir is about to say to him is lost by a sudden massive crash, the entire room shaking and shuddering under a HUGE impact. The younger Frey ends up falling on his ass, while Walder Frey barely holds onto his chair, which luckily, is large and big enough not to topple over.
 
“What in the blazes was that? BOY! Go find out what the fuck is going on!”
 
But the brat doesn’t even get off of the ground. Instead, he’s looking past Walder, towards the large window just behind the Lord’s throne, and he’s pointing and gibbering like a complete fool. With a snarl, Walder Frey whips around to see exactly what has one of his sons in such a state. What he finds confuses him, at first.
 
Rather than the usual vista of a cloudy sky, sometimes with a sun peeking through said clouds… Walder doesn’t see the sky. It’s as if something has covered up the window, but it takes him a while to actually figure out what that is. Tinged with orange and yellow, the eyeball is wide enough to cover the entire window, at least four or five times the size of a man. Only when it blinks does Lord Frey understand what he’s seeing.
 
“What the fuck…”
 
Slowly, the ninety-year old Frey stands up, nostrils flaring as he turns entirely to face this… eye. But it doesn’t remain just an eye for long. Pulling back, the eye is shown to be attached to a massive, draconic head, larger than the entire room that he and his son are standing in. Attached to that head is an equally massive maw, filled with sharp teeth that are each easily the size of a knight in full plate armor.
 
Said maw turns towards the window. It opens wide. And in the back of the gargantuan beast’s throat, Walder Frey sees fire building. For the last time in his exceedingly long life, Lord Frey feels fear… and then the window shatters under the sheer force of the dragon’s flames, and he feels nothing at all as he ends up a crisp pile of blackened ash on the floor of his throne room.
 
-x-X-x-
 
In the end, I didn’t get to eat Lord Walder Frey. More accurately, I didn’t want to. Not even his skeleton survived direct contact with my flames, showing just how old and brittle he was. His son, on the other hand, was laid out on the floor when I explodinated the inside of the Frey throne room, and with a lot more meat left on his bones, he crisped quite nicely. So, I ate him. And then I got to the task of eating every Frey man I could get my hands on, while at the same time laying the Twins to utter waste.
 
On my mother’s orders, which had in turn been influenced by my suggestions and Sansa’s feelings on the matter, I was to destroy the entirety of House Frey, as well as the source of all of their ill-gotten wealth and power. The family of scrounging rats had been allowed to use their position as the only truly safe crossing of the river they sat astride for far, far too long. Perhaps if they’d been more loyal, perhaps if they’d been more decent folks, they could have kept their power and their wealth.
 
But Lord Walder Frey had been allowed to reign as Lord of the Crossing for far, far too long. He’d been allowed to live for too long, to be perfectly honest, and as far as I was concerned, he’d poisoned the rest of his family, at least the males, with his idiocy. The male half of the Frey line was scheduled for a cleansing, and a cleansing I performed.
 
In my true form, in my purely dragon form… I was as big as a castle now. I’d surpassed every expectation of size at this stage in my life, from what I remembered of Drogon at this point, to how I compared to the skull of Balerion the Black Dread himself. I was very, VERY large… and it was a sign, as far as I was concerned, that I wasn’t entirely a Planetosian Dragon, at least not anymore.
 
Perhaps I was never meant to be. Whatever or whoever had put me in this world, in Drogon’s body… they’d clearly given me some added advantages. What I had now, this ability to grow my power through growing my hoard, it wasn’t something that could just be gained from eating some charred Warlock back in Qarth. My ability to transform into a smaller, two-legged form didn’t come from that either. I was constantly evolving and constantly growing.
 
As such, it was all too easy to lay waste to the Twins. I was careful only to destroy the castles though, of course. My mother still needed the bridge relatively intact if she was going to go North and fight the Night King, after all. Technically, she could have transported her armies by ship up to White Harbor, but it was better, now that she was the mostly undisputed ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, that she be seen by the smallfolk she was going to rule. That her armies and her dragons be seen as well.
 
So, we’d traveled by land, rather than by boat. I, of course, had traveled by air, going ahead to… clear out the riffraff for my mother. The castle complex built on the river crossing broke apart quite nicely beneath my claws, and the Frey men that tried desperately to fight me burnt and charred just as easily as those who tried to flee.
 
By the time my mother arrived, I’d eaten my fill and then some, and was lounging in the completely demolished ruins of the castle on the side of the river closest to them. The only people that I’d left mostly alone had been the women and children, of which there were plenty. And, of course, Edmure Tully. Luckily for him, he’d been prisoner. Which meant he was down in the dungeons, at the very bottom of the castles that I’d been sent to demolish.
 
Having plucked the filthy human out of his cell, I now lay there with him on the ground in front of me, staring at him, mostly out of boredom, as he trembled in fear. There was something undeniably amusing about the whole situation, though if my mother didn’t get here soon, I would probably have to stop fucking with the little Lordling. To his credit, he had yet to soil himself, at least. Though he certainly stank enough already from his imprisonment that I wasn’t sure I would know if he even did to begin with.
 
Still, the Queen should be here soon enough. Daenerys was right behind me, when I’d taken flight earlier this morning.
 
-x-X-x-
 
As Daenerys walks through the ruins of the Twins, she can’t help but smile. Certainly, there’s plenty of devastation to be found. It would be a horrifying sight, to just about anyone else. But not to her. Not to the Mother of Dragons. How could she be anything but pleased with her greatest child’s work? And Drogon certainly was the greatest of her three dragons. Viserion and Rhaegal were… small, compared to their sibling. At least, they were when Drogon wasn’t in his humanoid form.
 
Daenerys didn’t pretend to understand it. Though of course, she also didn’t let on in public that she DIDN’T understand it. It was important to keep up a front, to present herself as the Dragon Queen. Her Drogon was undeniably special though… and that was made all the more obvious as she approached him where he laid, sprawled in the midst of a completely destroyed castle, one reduced to its foundations.
 
He wasn’t alone though, and as she moved closer, her Unsullied and Missandei at her side, Daenerys eyes the dirty looking man sat staring up at Drogon with curiosity.
 
“Drogon? Who might this be? A Frey, perhaps?”
 
At hearing her voice echo through the otherwise silent area, the man on the ground spins about to look at her. Daenerys does the same, and what she finds is… rather disgusting. She immediately pegs this man, not as a Frey, but as a prisoner of some sort. He’s clothed in rags, or at least garments on their way to becoming rags, and he’s clearly filthy, not having bathed in some time. Either, he was the Frey’s prisoner, or he’s some random smallfolk… but Daenerys knows that Drogon would not waste her time with the latter.
 
“… Uncle Edmure?”
 
But in the end, the answer comes not from the man, or from her dragon, but from beside her. Daenerys looks to where Lady Sansa Stark stands, remembering now that the red head had come along with them as well. Sansa is looking at this filthy man with something akin to shock. Said man is looking back at her in shock as well.
 
“S-Sansa?”
 
His momentary strength fails him then, and he falls back down to his knees. Daenerys hums in consideration, even as Sansa steps up to her direct left.
 
“Your Grace, this is Edmure Tully, of House Tully. He is, technically… the Lord of the Riverlands.”
 
Well, that certainly explained why Drogon had let him live. Daenerys lets out a breathless sigh, followed by a soft chuckle. She looks upon her greatest child, currently larger than she’s ever seen him, and shakes her head in amusement.
 
“You always do bring me the best gifts, don’t you Drogon?”
 
She might wonder if he can even hear her from here, given how large he is. His ears are a hundred feet up in the air, at least. But he looks at her with one massive eye in obvious amusement, and she feels his presence in her mind, pressing against her fondly. She presses back as best she can with her thoughts, trying to convey her love and affection for him. Of course, he quickly twists that into lust, and Daenerys goes slightly pink as she has to lock her legs together to keep them from buckling right then and there.
 
Forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand, Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, strides up to where Edmure Tully kneels before her, completely filthy and dressed in rags.
 
“Lord Tully. You kneel before your Queen, which is a good start. Will you pledge yourself to me, as many of your noble peers have so far? Will you give your fealty to your Queen?”
 
Even the strongest man could be broken by months of captivity, and Daenerys need only take one look at Edmure Tully to know he is not a particularly strong man. And yet, her estimation of him rises a little when the first thing out of his mouth is not a pledge to her, but a question concerning the fates of his wife and child.
 
“Please, your Grace… I… I would ask something of you in return, if I am to pledge myself. If they still live, my wife and child… I would ask that no harm befall them, despite their Frey blood.”
 
Daenerys hums at that and looks to Drogon. She’s subsequently sent an image, a vivid picture in her mind’s eye of the woman and child in question. In point of fact, she actually recognizes them. The Queen and her armies had not been particularly idle, while Drogon had been destroying the Twins. After all, there had been plenty of scared people running right into their arms for her men to process. While some had of course fled North instead of South, Daenerys could say with confidence that the woman and babe that Edmure Tully were talking about had come South.
 
“Your wife and child still live, Lord Tully. They will be allowed to join you at Riverrun, of course, as soon as you swear fealty to your Queen.”
 
And so, surrounded by the ruins of the Frey’s castle, with a massive black dragon on one side and Daenerys and her army on the other, Edmure Tully, dressed in rags and positively filthy, swears himself to her. As he should. If Drogon was willing to spare him, then the Lord was probably worth keeping around. Her draconic son’s advice hadn’t failed her yet, after all.
 
Still, as Daenerys accepts Edmure’s oath, she steps past him a moment later, gesturing to Sansa.
 
“Take care of your uncle, Lady Stark. And the rest of you, begin to clear the rubble away, so that we may cross the Green Fork.”
 
No one questions her, no one asks what she will be doing. She is Queen, after all, and her business is her own. Not to mention, when you see your Queen walking towards a truly massive dragon and climbing aboard his back, you didn’t question it, you just trusted that if Drogon, the second coming of the Black Dread couldn’t handle any danger, that you wouldn’t be able to either.
 
Though, as everyone else gets to work, a woman dressed in red does watch as Drogon flies off with the Queen on his back. And after a moment, she bids her horse to follow in the direction that they’re going, hoping that they will set down somewhere at least within range of horseback.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Kinvara licks her lips as she slides off of her mare and ties its lead to a nearby tree. The Queen and her dragon are just beyond this clearing, over the next hill. She is looking forward to this more than she would care to admit. The last few months since joining Queen Daenerys retinue and finding herself forcibly installed in service to the Mother of Dragons have been… a whirlwind, to be sure.
 
But all the same, Kinvara, formerly the High Priestess of Volantis, Flame of Truth, Light of Wisdom, and First Servant of the Lord of Light, is so very sure that she is on the right path. Daenerys Targaryen is the One Who Was Promised. And her dragons, specifically Drogon… they are gifts from the Lord of Light himself. Otherwise, why would servicing Drogon feel so good? Why would she long for it, despite him growing beyond her capacity to pleasure?
 
The Red Priestess hasn’t touched the dragon in weeks now… she misses it. She misses him. She misses drinking his seed, practically bathing in it. She needs it… which is why she sneaks up on her Queen and her Queen’s dragon even now, disturbing their privacy, creeping along. After all, the Red Priestess is very aware that Queen Daenerys takes part in pleasuring Drogon as well. And yet, where Kinvara finds herself no longer capable, the Queen has not missed a beat.
 
How is that possible? She must learn the other woman’s secrets, no matter the cost. Moving up and around the hill, Kinvara half-expects to find a truly massive clearing or quarry beyond it, something that could fit Drogon’s immense size comfortably, in a way that even the ruins of the Twins couldn’t, not truly. She’s surprised to find a relatively small space instead, a nook of sorts, nestled in between several hills.
 
There, she finds the Queen. Daenerys Stormborn, her dress slipped down to her waist, kneels before a being that Kinvara doesn’t recognize at first, and sucks his cock. For a moment, Kinvara just watches. The Red Priestess doesn’t comprehend what she’s seeing, not right away. She’s not proud of it, but in the end, it takes her far longer than she would care to admit to realize that Daenerys is slurping away at a draconic cock, attached to a draconic creature. And while said creature is almost human-sized, he is in no way human… and given his draconic features, his scales, his coloring… it’s rather obvious who exactly it is, in the end.
 
Kinvara falls to her knees as a gasp leaves her lips, drawing Drogon’s eyes to her. But not Daenerys’. The Queen is focused entirely on her task, sucking and slurping away at her transformed child’s cock, bobbing up and down on his member like a lustful Lysene whore, rather than the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Not that Kinvara blames her. Seeing him like this, seeing his cock at such a more manageable size, Kinvara finds herself salivating, and the place between her thighs grows wet in moments.
 
Surely… surely this was just another sign from R’hllor himself. The Lord of Light truly had gifted the greatest of Daenerys’ dragons with immense power. She had never heard of a dragon, even from the time of Old Valyria, being capable of all Drogon had proven capable of. But if the Lord of Light himself had blessed him, altered him, changed him… then it all made sense, didn’t it?
 
Drogon still hasn’t given her presence away. Kinvara finds her hands unconsciously touching her body as she licks her lips and stares into his yellow-orange eyes. It’s as if he’s challenging her to reveal herself. She’s not going to get anything from him unless she does, Kinvara knows that. But she’ll admit, she’s afraid of interrupting the Queen.
 
Her desire to consume Drogon’s seed soon overwhelms her fear though, and swallowing the lump in her throat, Kinvara pushes herself up onto her feet and stumbles out of her hiding place and into the clearing directly. Her approach is not missed by Daenerys, not now that she’s being so obvious about it. The beautiful Queen pulls back from her child’s rigid, inhuman member and looks to her, eyes narrowing in irritation at the intrusion.
 
But then Drogon chuckles deeply and speaks.
 
“Do not begrudge her this, mother. She hungers so desperately. Let her have a drink.”
 
Kinvara is fairly certain that there exists no one in the entirety of the known world that could get away with talking to Daenerys Targaryen like that, save for Drogon. Of course, until this moment, the Red Priestess hadn’t even known that he COULD talk. Daenerys’ irritation washes away, and the Queen turns somewhat considering, even as she rises from her knees and turns to face Kinvara, standing at Drogon’s side.
 
They make quite the pair. Black scales juxtaposed beside white, pale skin. Daenerys’ dress is still off of her shoulders and resting around her waist, leaving her upper body completely exposed. She makes no effort to cover herself though, her soft, supple breasts on full display. And yet, she still holds herself with the regality of a Queen, even now.
 
Just as she still holds her dragon son’s cock in her hand, even now. Stroking it up and down, Daenerys considers Kinvara for a time… before finally nodding.
 
“Come forward then, Red Priestess.”
 
Kinvara lets out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding, and all but sprints forward, falling to her knees right in front of Drogon’s much more manageable, but no less magnificent cock. Making sure to emulate her Queen, Kinvara slips her own dress off of her shoulders, exposing her chest as well. Then, the Red Priestess leans in and grabs hold of Drogon’s cock with both hands, even as she nuzzles his ridged length with her face.
 
Said face is no doubt quite red, and her nostrils are flaring open quite wide. Kinvara is under no illusions to how she looks right now. Like a wanton slut, in need of her next… meal. But while it matters the world to her what her Queen thinks of her, Kinvara imagines that Daenerys will not begrudge her this, at the very least. Though that doesn’t mean the Targaryen Queen is just going to stand idle.
 
Feminine fingers slide through Kinvara’s dark hair and Daenerys takes firm hold of her locks, before forcing Kinvara to place her lips right at the tapered tip of Drogon’s draconic member.
 
“Open.”
 
The single-word command from her Queen is of course immediately followed, and as Kinvara opens as wide as she thinks she can, she quickly finds out she can go even wider, as Daenerys firmly and forcibly pushes her down Drogon’s length. Inch after inch of his massive cock disappears past her red lips, and her jaw is stretched to the breaking point as he continues on his way, right past the back of her throat, down into her gullet.
 
Unable to help herself, Kinvara gags on the significant intrusion. As much as she FEELS like a pleasure whore right now, there’s no denying that the Red Priestess, R’hllor’s former High Priestess in fact, is unused to having to take such a member down her throat. By the time she’d entered Daenerys’ service, Drogon had been far too large for that after all, and she’d had to settle for using her entire body to get him off instead.
 
Regardless, Kinvara chokes and gags and gurgles around Drogon’s draconic member, but that doesn’t stop Daenerys… nor does the Red Priestess want it to. That she must suffer for the reward she hopes to earn is par for the course for a woman who spent her life in service to R’hllor. She will do anything to make Drogon happy, to bring him to release, so that she may once again drink of his powerful seed.
 
Its not long before her eyes water from the exertion though, and involuntary tears stream down her perfectly sculpted cheeks. Drool collects on her chin, and eventually drips off onto her naked, exposed breasts. Daenerys speeds up the pace at which she’s fucking Kinvara’s skull back and forth across Drogon’s cock, until eventually, the transformed dragon groans, and both women realize he’s getting close.
 
Without hesitating, Daenerys drags Kinvara away from Drogon entirely. Lost in a haze of lust and a significant lack of breathable air, the Red Priestess can barely muster a reaction beyond a confused whimper, before the Dragon Queen has taken her place. Though, Daenerys doesn’t kneel again, as she was doing before. Instead, the impetuous monarch spins herself around and impales herself on Drogon’s member, just like that.
 
Her son’s large, clawed hands are quick to grab his mother by her chest and body and pull her close. Kinvara is left kneeling there in front of both of them, feeling distinctly used as Daenerys’ throaty moans and screams fill the clearing, a rough, fast-paced fucking that manages to bring the Mother of Dragons to an explosive orgasm before finally, Drogon is milked of his seed.
 
… She is loyal to her Queen, loyal to the One Who Was Promised. It is obvious that the Lord of Light wants Kinvara to assist Daenerys against the Army of the Dead. But for the first time since Drogon had carried her off all those months ago, Kinvara is almost ready to break with her oaths, to break with her Queen over the fact that Daenerys just stole the load of seed that Kinvara had just worked so hard for.
 
Staring up at the Dragon Queen as she leans back against her transformed dragon’s chest and twists about to kiss him deeply, Kinvara has never felt more… murderous. She’s never felt more envious, either. She wants it to be her, instead. She wants Drogon’s seed, d-damn it all! For a few moments, Kinvara just kneels there, her exposed tits covered in drool and her beautiful face covered in tears, as she watches Daenerys and Drogon interact. Her eyes are eventually drawn downwards, to where they’re joined together at the crotch, his ridged member, the cock that she’d been so thoroughly sucking, buried in Daenerys’ tight quim.
 
Kinvara wondered briefly, if the Dragon Queen might end up pregnant, one of these days. Such thoughts are dispelled however when the first peek of white, hot dragon seed begins to slip down from where they’re joined together, Drogon’s load already dripping out of Daenerys. Kinvara’s eyes go wide and her nostrils flare, and she moans wantonly in sheer desire.
 
This draws the attention of the Queen, who looks down at her with a regal smile, even as she pulls herself off of Drogon’s cock just as easily as she impaled herself on it. She steps forward and fists both hands in Kinvara’s hair… before dragging the Red Priestess in close.
 
“You needed to be punished for interrupting Drogon and I… but now I suppose I can give you a treat.”
 
And then Kinvara finds herself eating out the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms as Daenerys grinds her creampied cunt all over the Red Priestess’ face. And as her tongue tastes Drogon’s seed for the first time in weeks, as she breathes in the delicious scent, Kinvara’s eyes roll back in her head, and she cums on the spot before mindlessly and eagerly slurping out the draconic cum from within her Queen’s freshly fucked quim.

-x-X-x-

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