“Dany turned the whip in her hand. Such a light thing, to bear such weight. "Is it done, then? Do they belong to me?” “It is done,” he agreed, giving the chain a sharp pull to bring Drogon down from the litter. Dany mounted her silver. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She felt desperately afraid. Was this what my brother would have done? She wondered if Prince Rhaegar had been this anxious when he saw the Usurper’s host formed up across the Trident with all their banners floating on the wind.
[…]
[…]Though the Astapori yanked and tugged, Drogon would not budge off the litter. Smoke rose grey from his open jaws, and his long neck curled and straightened as he snapped at the slaver’s face. It is time to cross the Trident, Dany thought, as she wheeled and rode her silver back.“
