Chapter 28 — The Fight for Dominance
"Every time Drogon comes back from outside, he immediately starts a fight with Rhaegal and Viserion," Qihea said cheerfully as she walked beside Daenerys.
As the official roaster of meat for the three dragons, she had spent enough time with them to see a pattern. Drogon always picked a fight on purpose, especially when the other two were having fun.
Only later did she realize the truth —
Drogon wasn't causing trouble. He was training them.
No wonder the Khaleesi never allowed Rhaegal and Viserion to be fed separately. She deliberately let them compete over food.
The fighting over meals was part of their combat training.
High above them, the three dragons were locked in a fierce aerial battle — shrieks, roars, the crack of wings colliding, and occasionally scales drifting down from the sky.
Most queens would have panicked.
But Daenerys?
Her eyes shone with satisfaction.
The harder they fought now, the safer they would all be later.
Fight harder, she silently urged.
After more than ten minutes of neck-and-neck combat, Drogon finally eased off.
Rhaegal and Viserion both let out breaths of relief.
Drogon was finally back — meaning today's beating was over.
As they grew, so did their intelligence.
They now understood Drogon's "training schedule."
At first they tried to run whenever a fight started.
But running didn't work.
He always caught them — and the beatings were worse.
Eventually they learned:
stop running, fight back together.
And since then they had improved drastically.
Drogon retrieved his backpack, then glided down to land on Daenerys's shoulder.
He nuzzled her cheek with his small head.
Hmm… Dragon Mother changed perfumes?
He could smell the faint floral scent instantly.
Daenerys blinked — surprised that his nose was this sharp.
She had only switched to a lighter perfume from Irri that morning.
She took a cloth and wiped the blood from his scales, then casually lifted the oversized backpack hanging from his neck.
It was heavier than she expected.
Qihea's flint pouch shouldn't weigh more than a few stones… so why is this bag so heavy?
Curiosity rising, she began to open it.
Not this. She absolutely must NOT see what's inside.
Realizing what she was about to do, Drogon immediately flew down and planted both claws firmly across the opening.
Inside were ink, quills, parchment —
and one particular item he could NOT let her see yet:
Varys's secret letter of allegiance to Daenerys.
She would read it — but not now.
So there's something in the bag even I'm not allowed to see?
Hearing Drogon's worried thoughts only made Daenerys more curious.
She pretended not to hear him, gently brushed aside one of his claws, and tried to peek inside again.
But the tiny push didn't move his claws at all.
She frowned, used a little more force —
still no movement.
She lowered her gaze to Drogon's small black talons.
For something so small…
she hadn't expected them to be this strong.
Daenerys didn't believe she couldn't pry the little claws open.
She gritted her teeth, used her full strength — her face flushed red —
yet Drogon's four tiny talons didn't move an inch.
"Khaleesi, what are you doing?"
Qihea finally noticed Daenerys struggling and saw her desperately trying to pry open Drogon's claws. She stood there dumbfounded.
"Qihea, help me!" Daenerys said, refusing to give up.
"Khaleesi…" Qihea had assumed Daenerys was just playing with Drogon.
But hearing that tone, she realized the queen was actually trying her hardest.
Was she not afraid of snapping the poor little claws?
This woman is impossible…
Drogon really hadn't expected Daenerys to be this stubborn.
She couldn't pry him loose alone, so she tried to recruit Qihea.
Thank the Seven Jorah isn't here — she probably would've called him too…
The moment Qihea reached in to help, Drogon seized the backpack and shot toward the sky.
There was no way Daenerys was letting him get away like that —
she grabbed the strap and held on.
Drogon could have just yanked the backpack away.
But that might injure her, and he would never risk that.
Clutching the straps, momentarily stuck between protecting Daenerys and keeping the secret, Drogon froze — until a sudden idea struck him.
He swooped back down, pressed close to her ribs, and gently tickled.
Daenerys didn't have time to understand what he was doing before her body reacted —
a sharp jolt of laughter almost escaped her.
Her fingers loosened involuntarily.
Drogon took the opening and snatched the backpack away.
"You—!"
Daenerys stamped her foot in frustration, powerless to do anything as Drogon soared out of reach.
"Hah—"
Qihea almost burst out laughing at the sight of the mighty Khaleesi outplayed by a palm-sized dragon — then quickly covered her mouth, cheeks flushing red.
"Qihea!" Daenerys snapped, her chest rising and falling in irritation.
"What is in that bag besides flint and dried tinder?"
Qihea swallowed down her laughter and replied honestly,
"Only those things, Khaleesi… nothing else."
So Drogon is hiding something — and hiding it from her.
The thought tormented Daenerys, but there was nothing she could do.
Up in the sky, Drogon exhaled in relief.
Women were terrifying.
If he hadn't remembered the same trick he once used on an ex-girlfriend in his previous life, the secret would have been exposed.
Pens and parchment didn't worry him — he could hide or lose those.
But Varys's letter of allegiance to Daenerys had to be delivered quickly.
He found an abandoned, half-destroyed house and hid the ink, pens, and parchment inside.
Then he pulled out the sealed scroll — marked with Varys's signature spider sigil — and went to find a messenger.
He spotted the perfect one soon enough: Ser Barristan, leaving his room and clearly heading toward the Unsullied's stationed area.
Drogon calculated his path, then dropped the scroll in the middle of the street corner that Barristan would walk across.
The moment he flew away, Barristan rounded the corner — and stopped cold when he saw the scroll placed neatly on the ground.
He scanned the surroundings cautiously. Nothing.
He picked it up.
The seal told him everything — a spider.
Varys.
He did not break the seal immediately.
Someone had placed the scroll exactly in the middle of his path.
This was no accident.
Only after moving to the side of the road did he carefully open it and read the first line:
"Your Majesty, I, Varys, humbly pledge myself…"
Barristan could hardly believe it.
Varys — the infamous spymaster — offering allegiance to Daenerys Targaryen.
After scanning the letter, he immediately turned back and rushed toward Daenerys's residence.
Drogon left the letter behind and flew back as well.
Even though he'd just infuriated Daenerys, he needed to witness her reaction to Varys's pledge.
Daenerys looked up the moment he landed — the backpack still on his neck.
She shot him a glare, but did not attempt to seize it again.
She wasn't stupid — whatever had been inside was hidden already.
There was no point fighting a lost battle.
Drogon pretended not to notice her expression, set the backpack aside, and instead began examining the new quarters as though nothing had happened.
Daenerys turned her head away sharply.
The silence between them was so tense that Drogon didn't want to stay a single second longer.