Daenerys takes on Drogon… first ride:
In the smoldering red pits of Drogon’s eyes, Dany saw her own reflection. How small she looked, how weak and frail and scared. I cannot let him see my fear. She scrabbled in the sand, pushing against the pitmaster’s corpse, and her fingers brushed against the handle of his whip. Touching it made her feel braver (..) Drogon roared again, the sound so loud that she almost dropped the whip. His teeth snapped at her.
Dany hit him. “No” she screamed, swinging the lash with all the strength that she had in her.
The dragon jerked his head back. “No” she screamed again. “NO!” The barbs raked along his snout.
Drogon rose, his wings covering her in shadow. Dany swung the lash at his scaled belly, back and forth until her arm began to ache (…) With a hisssssss, he spat black fire down at her. Dany darted underneath the flames, swinging the whip and shouting, “No, no, no. Get DOWN!” His answering roar was full of fear and fury, full of pain. His wings beat once, twice… and folded. The dragon gave one last hiss and stretched out flat upon his belly (…) He is fire made flesh, she thought, and so am I.
Daenerys Targaryen vaulted onto the dragon’s back, seized the spear, and ripped it out (…) Drogon twisted under her, his muscles rippling as he gathered his strength. The air was thick with sand. Dany could not see, she could not breathe, she could not think. The black wings cracked like thunder, and suddenly the scarlet sands were falling away beneath her.
The lash was still in her hand. She flicked it against Drogon’s neck and cried, “Higher!” Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase…
