Val was excited, but also a little confused as the Dragon Queen brought her to a tent, rather than across the field to where the massive black-scaled dragon was curled up. Still, she followed all the same, with perhaps only a hint of reluctance. If nothing else, she had to go along with it for the slimmest chance at what the Dragon Queen was offering.
 
The Dragon had caught her eye fairly early on in the midst of the ‘negotiations’. Frankly, Val had always known that it was ultimately pointless to listen to Mance and the Dragon Queen speak. The Free Folk might have taken the Wall, but it hadn’t been easy. The Night’s Watch had gone down swinging, dying to a man in order to do as much damage to her people as they possibly could.
 
The Wall was theirs, but at what cost? Not that any cost was too high if it meant they stayed ahead of the Dead. All the same, Val knew, even if she didn’t want to admit it, that they would need to figure out some sort of way of placating the Dragon Queen if they wanted to survive. Even if that meant kneeling. The massive dragon that had winged over the Wall and then curled up on the field where they’d ended up meeting had only solidified that point for her.
 
The moment she’d met the Dragon’s eyes however, had been an illuminating one. It hadn’t… talked to her, necessarily, but it had sent her a message, of sorts. And then it’d send her more messages. And Val had found herself getting lost in the possibilities. Images, sensations, emotions… desires. A LOT of desire. Enough to make her wet, truth be told. Even now, entering this large tent at the heels of the Dragon Queen, she was still dripping down betwixt her thighs.
 
It was just the two of them in the tent, interestingly enough. As the Dragon Queen turns to regard her, Val’s spine subconsciously straightens, her chin jutting out just a tad. This woman in front of her… she was as Southron as it got. A kneeler above all other kneelers. And yet… and yet, even if she wore no furs, even if she clearly hadn’t struggled through hardships as Val and her people had… there was a strength to the Dragon Queen that was all her own.
 
It was impossible for Val to look down on her. She had no intention of kneeling to her, of course, but respect her? Yeah, the Wildling Woman could do that much.
 
“So, you wish to lay with my son.”
 
Blinking, Val flushes a little at that, suddenly caught completely off guard. Her… son? There was only one creature that the Dragon Queen could be talking about, in the end. And… yes, Val very much did.
 
“I… am not sure he would fit…”
 
The Dragon Queen lets out a soft laugh at that. Before she can reply, however, the back of the tent is lifted up, and much to Val’s surprise, a dragon scurries in. It’s identical to the dragon she saw outside, but far smaller… albeit still massive in comparison to her. Still, it’s the difference between it being the size of one mammoth, or the size of a dozen such creatures.
 
Upon his entry, Daenerys turns to regard the dragon, only to adopt a strange look on her face. But Val doesn’t notice, too busy staring at the dragon as well, able to feel his presence prickling at her senses, his desire mixing with her desire and igniting fresh heat within her. Eventually, the Dragon Queen turns and regards Val with a similar smile as before.
 
“As you can see, my son is very… adaptable.”
 
Suddenly, desire is all that she’s being hit with. And to be honest, Val has just as much desire simmering within her. Her hands come up, and she begins to discard her furs, uncaring of Daenerys’ eyes on her the entire time. Let the Dragon Queen look. All she cares about right now is the Dragon.
 
“His name is Drogon, by the way.”
 
Val’s breath hitches. Drogon then… stripping down until she’s naked, uncaring of the cold air ghosting across her body and causing her nipples to harden quite swiftly, Val begin to approach Drogon, carefully, cautiously… but with all too clear intent. He, in turn, watches her come, snorting softly as he does so. Eventually, Val is right in front of him, reaching out and running a hand across his snout.
 
That’s when the Dragon Queen comes up behind her and hugs her from behind, running delicate yet surprisingly confident hands across Val’s body.
 
“Tell me, Val. What do you want from my son? Ask it if of us, and we shall see if it is in our power to grant it.”
 
Of course. Of course, it wouldn’t be as easy as just letting the dragon fuck her. Val should have known that. Still, as strange as this might all be, she wants it. She wants it badly enough that she could care less about what she has to do to get it. Specifically, there’s one thing she wants above all else.
 
“… I want a child. I want him to breed me.”
 
Daenerys stiffens against her back at that. But only for a moment, before something soothing and ephemeral washes over them both. Drogon looks at them with intelligent amber eyes, and Val’s breath hitches as she finds herself understanding exactly what he’s ‘saying’ to them. In turn, the Dragon Queen translates for her son, just in case there was any confusion.
 
“That would… be possible.”
 
To Val’s ears, it sounds like Daenerys is surprised. Shocked even. Perhaps the Dragon Queen did not know about this ability? Perhaps she did not think a dragon could seed a woman? But that had been one of the sensations that Val had gotten back on the field when she and Drogon had been staring at each other. It was fleeting to be sure, but she’d gotten the impression all the same.
 
It was something she’d never thought she’d want. Her sister, Dalla, now she was the kind of woman to get heavy with child. Val was fine with a lay here and there, and of course, sometimes the seed took and there was nothing you could do about that. But ultimately… ultimately, she’d never much thought herself the mothering type.
 
But this dragon, this Drogon… he’d stolen her with only a glance, truth be told. He’d snatched her up without having to do a single thing, and ultimately, Val wanted it. She wanted him.
 
The Dragon Queen lays them both out on a pile of blankets and furs. With Daenerys under her, Val can only lay back upon the other woman’s breasts and watch as Drogon moves into position over them.
 
“He’s… he’s so big.”
 
Her first glance of his massive draconic cock is one that fills Val with apprehension, but also desire. Once more, soothing feelings flow across her as Drogon makes a point of letting her know that she’ll be fine. Once again, Daenerys translates for her son, even though Val thinks she understands what he’s ‘saying’.
 
“You will be fine. He will not hurt you.”

Swallowing thickly, Val can only nod her agreement. Either he WILL hurt her, and she will not live long enough to be concerned with this, or he won’t. There’s no in between, and it’s not like she can back out now. As his massive, inhuman, ridged cock presses up against her slit, Val gasps in both trepidation and excitement. He begins to push forward, and all she can do is spread her legs as far as humanly possible and watch as he claims her.
 
It’s like no fuck she’s ever experienced before, that’s for sure. No Free Folk man could claim to have a cock this big. Perhaps a giant might, but even they… even they would fall short. Because Drogon wasn’t just large, he was unique in other ways too. His cock was not that of a man, it was that of a dragon. The ridges along his length, the way his cockhead tapered into an arrow-point of sorts, it all felt so very different, so very spectacular.
 
More than that though, the size made Val’s eyes roll back in her head, her teeth clenching as she felt the Dragon Queen holding her steady for her son to fuck. The Wildling Woman had never before been split like this. It was like a bundle of three spears was being shoved up her cunt… and yet… and yet, at the same time, there was no pain.
 
Eventually opening her eyes, Val looks down the length of her body to see a terrifying, but also awe-inspiring sight. Her body is bulging around Drogon’s cock, and yet she is not torn asunder. Her belly is fit to burst, but it does not burst. He’s so deep inside of her now, it feels like he’s pressed up against her rapidly beating heart itself. But aside from feeling like it might stop, her heart is fine. She is fine.
 
“Are you ready now? For him to start moving?”
 
The thought terrifies and excites her in equal measure, and Val jerkily nods her head in acquiescence. Drogon begins to shift and move and thrust, and her eyes roll back in her head as her tongue sticks straight out of her mouth.
 
“Oooooh!!!”
 
“That’s it! Take it! Take Drogon’s cock!”
 
The Dragon Queen is getting more and more into it, but that’s just fine, because so is Val. She can’t move very much at the moment, stuck between a massive dragon, his big fat dragon dick, and his mother, but she can certainly writhe and wiggle, her body spasming and shaking and undulating as Drogon begins to fuck her.
 
He starts off slow enough, but quickly begins to speed up, going faster and faster by the moment. His cock breaches her womb, but there’s no pain, no agony. She doesn’t burst open, there’s not a single ounce of spilt blood. It makes no sense; she’s seen grotesque sights before as results of Wildling Sex. Men are not always so gentle… truth be told, neither were women.
 
A cock the size of Drogon’s should be enough to split her in two, but instead it’s bringing her nothing but pleasure. Orgasm after orgasm come crashing down upon the beautiful young Wildling Woman like a rain of blows that she’s all too happy to accept. But even as much as she’s enjoying herself, there comes a point where she simply… she simply can’t maintain consciousness anymore.
 
That point, as it turns out, coincides perfectly with Drogon seeding her. The moment he begins to cum, Val’s eyes near-bulge out of her skull as it suddenly feels like she’s about to burst all over again. She doesn’t, of course, but she’s never felt more bloated by the time he’s done, never felt more… satiated. When unconsciousness comes swiftly afterwards to claim her, Val lets it. Even if she doesn’t ever wake up again, she can at least die happy.
 
Of course, that’s not going to happen. Even as Val passes out upon Drogon’s cock, the large but not-too-large dragon is slowly sliding out of her, leaving her womb filled with his seed and her impregnation all but guaranteed, but the beautiful blonde Wildling herself completely unharmed. She would just have to… sleep it off, so to speak.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Daenerys licks her lips as Drogon helps to pry Val’s unconscious body off of her, laying the Wildling out on a nearby pile of blankets and furs before turning to her. After Val passed out, Drogon had transformed, returning to that humanoid form of his. The one with opposable thumbs and what not. Looking up at him, flustered and needy as all hell, Daenerys climbs to her feet and stares at her son.
 
“… Tell me, were you being honest with her?”
 
Looking down at the sleeping Wildling with a fond smile, Drogon nods.
 
“Yes, mother. She will give birth in nine months time. I… sense that the child will not share all of my traits. It will take more after her than me. But there will be some things that will be unavoidable. Any child I help create will have magic, for one.”
 
Daenerys’ mouth is undeniably dry as she looks between the sleeping feral woman and her son.
 
“How… how is that possible? How does a dragon breed mortal woman?”
 
Turning to her, he grins and repeats himself.
 
“Magic, mother. I wished for it to be so, and thus it will be so.”
 
That is… Daenerys squirms, before turning her mind to other matters, wanting to… think about something else for a moment.
 
“Why did you come to her in that form? Why not approach her in this form, as you have been ever since you gained it?”
 
Drogon shrugs, rolling his shoulders as he continues to look down upon the woman he supposedly just bred.
 
“She and I… we had something of a talk while you and the King-Beyond-the-Wall were getting all chummy, mother. I knew from our little chat that she would enjoy this form over the humanoid form, but that if I gave her the choice, she would be too ashamed to ask for it. So, I didn’t bother. She has a deviant mind, to be sure… just like my mother…”
 
He turns to her then, and Daenerys feels like an open tome as he steps in her direction, grinning somewhat wickedly.
 
“Mother… there’s something you want of me. Ask it. You are my mother and my Queen. You are Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. You mustn’t be afraid.”
 
He was… he was right. Still, Daenerys does not speak. She steps forward instead, and slowly pushes Drogon down onto his back. He lets her do so, lets her take his cock and place it against her slit. He lets her slowly impale herself on him and lets her ride him. As Daenerys gasps and moans atop her draconic son, she looks down into his inhuman eyes and accepts what she desires. Some might call it wrong… but SHE was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. There was no higher authority than her.
 
Leaning forward, her hands palm down on his chest, her lips dangerously close to his, Daenerys… gives in.
 
“Breed me, my son. Use your magic to give me the child I should have had, that I lost before I found you. I want you to impregnate me. I want you to seed my barren womb. Can you… c-can you do that?”
 
For the briefest of moments, Daenerys fears that perhaps he misread the subtleties of his words and he actually can’t help her. Whatever that Sheep Witch had done to her back in Essos had supposedly made her barren, and that had been magic too. But the moment passes when Drogon just grins and slides a clawed hand to her backside, digging in but defying all logic and not drawing blood as he casually molests her soft rump.
 
“Yes mother… I do believe I can.”

Daenerys lets out a sigh of relief that quickly turns into a squeal of pleasure as her draconic son’s second hand joins the first on her ass and he begins to fuck her from below. And to think, she’d thought by doing it this way, she would maintain control of the situation. Instead, it feels like she’s riding a bucking stallion, bouncing up and down on Drogon’s cock as he thrusts up into her from below, as HE grips tightly at her buttocks and pulls her up his length, only to slam her back down again.
 
Gasping, moaning, mewling, Daenerys falls all the way forward on his chest, her tits rubbing against his abdomen as she holds on for dear life, just trying to keep her wits about her. It’s no use, of course. Her eyes are soon dangerously close to rolling back in her head, and her pussy walls are clenching down around Drogon’s draconic ridged member nonstop as she orgasms again and again from the onslaught of pleasure he’s visiting upon her.
 
She can feel him in her mind, can feel his presence like a warm blanket all around her. This is what it means to be the Dragon Queen, she supposes. This is what it means to be protected by her all-powerful son. The gods… the gods had never done anything for Daenerys, as far as she could figure. Her dragons had come from eggs given to her by men. Her first husband and child had been taken from her by a witch. Drogon and his siblings had been born of HER sacrifice, HER magic.
 
As far as Daenerys was concerned, the gods didn’t exist. But Drogon… Drogon just might be a god. His magic was incredible, as was everything else about him. Was that what she’d done, was that always her destiny? To give birth to a god?
 
If that were the case, Daenerys wasn’t sure she could really bring herself to mind. As her tongue lolls out of her mouth and onto Drogon’s chest, as her eyes roll back in her skull and she feels him cumming inside of her, filling her womb with his virile seed the same as he had Val… Dany doesn’t much care at all whether this was her destiny or not. It feels right, it feels like she’s right where she belongs… and that’s all that matters.
 
-x-X-x-
 
I smile, as I lay out my newly impregnated mother next to the newly impregnated Wildling. I had, undeniably, knocked up both women. Some might claim it was too early to know something like that for sure, but I knew. I knew because of the exact thing I’d already told Daenerys. Magic. I could feel it, what I had willed to pass… had indeed come to pass.
 
I didn’t know how long I’d been able to do this, to be honest. It wasn’t until I’d caught the desire in my exchange with Val that I’d really thought to check. And then with Daenerys… well, she’d been barren for longer than I’d been alive, albeit only by a little bit. Ultimately, this was the least I could do for her.
 
From what I could tell, what I’d told Dany would be pretty much accurate. The children that she and Val gave birth to would be human… mostly. They would take after their mothers… mostly. There would likely be minor details. Perhaps draconic features, such as eyes or claws or some smattering of scales here and there.
 
Oh, and they would have a greater capacity for magic then practically anything I’d come across on this world so far. THAT would certainly be interesting. But ultimately, that was also for the future. In the here and now, I had far more important things to worry about.
 
We’d made it to the Wall, albeit a little late and with Jon Snow dead. Unfortunate, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles. Now here we were, with the Army of the Dead and their White Walker commanders approaching. The Night King was about to stroll up and try to take down the Wall along with all of Westeros. Probably also the entire world, I had a hard time believing that the White Walkers would just stop at Westeros. But hey, maybe?
 
Part of me wanted to be confident. I was so much stronger than Drogon had been in the show. So much more powerful, so much mightier. This should be easy enough, right? But another part of me preached caution. Yes, this might be easy given all of my advantages… but I refused to be over-confident.
 
That was why, once my mother woke up from her little nap, I would push for her to fortify the Wall properly. Her armies, along with the Wildlings, would be able to man the entirety of the Wall, hopefully. We had far more time than they’d had in canon at this point, to prepare and to prove victorious. All that would ultimately be left… was waiting for them to arrive.

-x-X-x-

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