THANK YOU MUMMA. ❣️ ELEPHANT NEXT PLS. Another note to self; go moo the next time mumma says dracarys.

IF MY MOTHER DOES NOT GET TO SIT ON THE IRON THRONE, NO ONE ELSE WILL!

The fire-breathing creature nuzzles its snout against his mother’s delicate skin and purrs softly. Home is truly wherever she is.

Perched on his mother’s left shoulder with claws digging under her skin just enough to help the tiny creature keep his balance, Drogon screeches loudly at his brothers before nuzzling his snout against the her silver strands. Right or wrong, by her side he will stay.

Daenerys and the dragons share a brass-bound bond, like that of a mother to her sons, more even. Inseparable, indestructible and everlasting. Black-scaled skin of the reincarnation of Balerion, the Black Dread, or so they say, brushes gently against the apple of her cheek.

Drogon finds great pleasure in receiving extra attention from his mother, purring loudly from the bottom of his throat before pushing himself more against the soft and warm touches of the blonde. He might be the most aggressive but he is also the most protective of Daenerys.

Her eldest is near..

GROWLS AT HER.

It felt long to him.

No but he’s still upset.

He can’t help it. He is the most aggressive out of his brothers.

He might just growl again.

Yes and maybe she’s to blame for only half.

It happened twice. With Viserion and Rhaegal. Now he’s alone.

There is nothing else he can do for her. He’s of no use to her now.

What will he do here?

Is this war?

missing ˚⋰ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇 . . .