The Dragon's Submission (CH 1) (Patreon)

A/N: This story is rated M for mature content not suitable for children.

All characters engaging in sexual act are eighteen years or older.

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Chapter 1: The Stranger of the Sunless East

The Dothraki Sea was aptly named, a vast, rippling ocean of grass beneath a sky that showed no mercy. Even the dust seemed to sweat. Khal Drogo’s khalasar moved like a slow, glittering serpent, tens of thousands strong, and Daenerys Targaryen rode near its head, the silver of her hair a beacon against the endless ochre.

She was tired of the slow pace, the casual brutality, and the ceaseless, judging stares of the dosh khaleen whispers in the back of her mind. She needed power, and she had it in her dragons—her children.

Today, Drogon was restless. The black beast, already the size of a small horse, soared in erratic loops far ahead, casting momentary, bat-like shadows on the earth. Daenerys watched him, her heart swelling with proprietorial pride. He was her strength. He was her crown.

Then Drogon landed. Not in a slow, majestic descent, but in a sudden, jarring halt a few hundred yards from the vanguard, his wings beating the tall grass into submission. He wasn't landing to hunt. He was landing to confront.

A figure stood where the massive shadow fell.

He was tall, undeniably young—barely past her own age—with sun-kissed, strangely vibrant blond hair that seemed to catch the light even in the dull afternoon. He wore a simple, sleeveless tunic and pants that looked like they had been patched together from canvas and leather. On his back, two blades were sheathed, but what held her attention was the strange, coiled black iron wrapped around his left arm. It was not armor, but something alien and dangerous.

And most damningly, he was standing directly in the center of Drogon’s territory.

“What is that, Khaleesi?” Jorah Mormont’s voice was low, his hand already on his sword hilt.

“A fool, ser.” She urged her palfrey forward. “An unfortunate one.”

As they approached, the air grew thick with tension. Drogon lowered his massive head, his nostrils flaring, a curl of black smoke rising from his maw. The smell of sulfur and ozone hit them. This was the moment of testing, the moment when the world learned to fear the unburnt queen.

The stranger didn’t move. He simply looked at the dragon with eyes so startlingly blue they seemed carved from the clear, cold ice of the North, yet burned with a strange, golden energy.

“Oi! Big lizard!” the stranger called out, his voice carrying clearly despite the distance, an accent they couldn’t place. “Move it. You’re in my way.”

The Dothraki gasped then shouted a mix of derision and outrage. Khal Drogo’s bloodriders shifted, awaiting the command to cut the fool down.

Drogon, in turn, did what any creature of fire and primal rage would do: he opened his mouth and roared, a sound that shook the very ground, and a tongue of liquid flame, thick and blinding, erupted toward the insolent figure.

Daenerys’s blood ran cold. He’s dead. He shouldn't have been so foolish.

But the flame didn't hit him.

The stranger stood perfectly still, and as the fire rushed towards him, the blue eyes flashed brighter. The coiled black iron on his arm pulsed. Then, with a speed that defied human comprehension, he raised a hand.

He didn't deflect the fire. He didn't avoid it.

He absorbed it.

It was instantaneous. One moment, a gout of dragonfire was rushing toward him; the next, the fire vanished. There was no smoke, no burn mark, only a faint, shimmering heat haze around his body.

Drogon whimpered. It was a high-pitched, almost childish sound of confusion and fear. He jerked his head back, his massive, scaled body trembling. He then did the unthinkable: he took three steps back, lowered his head to the grass, and let out a sound of deep, guttural submission.

The collective silence of the khalasar was absolute.

Daenerys felt her perfect world fracture. Her dragons were untouchable, the ultimate sign of her destiny. And this boy had rendered the largest of them a chastised lapdog.

She rode up to him, stopping her horse inches from his chest, her face a mask of furious regal intent.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her Valyrian sharp and cold.

The boy blinked, the strange blue eyes meeting her violet ones. He grinned, a wide, genuine, utterly disarming flash of white teeth.

“Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto.” He glanced past her at the silent army. “And who are you, with all the jewelry and the pet lizard that can’t handle a little heat?”

The audacity. The sheer, breathtaking disrespect. Yet, a strange, undeniable flicker of arousal sparked deep within her. He did not fear her. That was a novelty. That was power.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.”

Naruto scratched his chin, completely unimpressed. “Right. A whole lot of titles. Okay, Dany. I’m looking for a place called ‘Asshai.’ Got any directions?”

Dany. No one called her that. Not her brother, not Drogo, not even Jorah. It was familiar, immediate, and it made her blood sing with annoyance and something much warmer.

This man was a threat. A beautiful, dangerous, unknowable threat. He commanded her dragon with a glance. He must be brought under heel. And there was only one way a Targaryen Queen brought a man under her heel, especially a man with so much innate strength.

“Asshai is far, Naruto of the Uzumaki.” Her voice dropped, becoming a honeyed lure. She dismounted, standing close enough to feel the heat radiating off him from where he had absorbed the fire. Her eyes were fixed on the black coils on his arm. “But my khalasar is vast, and my hospitality is limitless. You will stay with me. You will tell me where you come from. And I will give you anything you desire.”

She let her gaze drift meaningfully down his body and back up, making her intentions clear.

Naruto’s grin softened, turning into something more predatory, more knowing. He leaned in, his clean scent of citrus and sea salt a shocking contrast to the dusty Dothraki air.

“Anything, Khaleesi?” he whispered.

“Anything,” she promised.

“Then I desire a Queen.” He stepped closer, eliminating the last of the space between them. “Not a servant, not a bloodrider. A Queen who stands at my side. I want you, Daenerys.”

Her breath hitched. He had turned the tables in a heartbeat. He wasn’t submitting. He was proposing. He was challenging her power by demanding to share it. The primal, dominating nature of the challenge was irresistible.

“Then come, my Lord,” she said, the words slipping out like silk and poison. “Let us see if you are worthy of a Queen.”

Fast Forward

Lemon Scene Ahead

That night, in her tent, the air was thick with expectation and the scents of exotic oils and musk. The Dothraki had accepted their Queen’s decision with a primal understanding: power demanded tribute, and she was claiming this tribute in the most absolute way.

Naruto sat on the furs, utterly at ease, while Daenerys moved around him, stripping off her light silks. She was playing a part she knew well: the intoxicating, unattainable Queen. She watched his eyes follow her, the way the golden light of the lamps made his pupils dilate, and she felt her own lust intensify.

When she was naked, standing tall and proud before him, she stopped. “Look closely, Naruto. This is the woman you claim to make your Queen. She is not easily ruled.”

He rose, moving with a silent grace that spoke of a thousand hidden battles. The air grew warm around him.

“I’m not looking to rule you, Daenerys,” he said, his voice a low rumble. He reached out and cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking the silk of her cheekbones. His skin was warm, vibrant. “I’m looking to possess you. To be possessed by you. To be the strength that lets you rule everything else.”

He lowered his head and took her mouth in a kiss that was neither gentle nor demanding, but simply there, an absolute statement. It tasted of adventure and the elemental power she had seen him wield against Drogon.

Daenerys met the passion instantly. Her hands raked across his chest, seeking purchase on the taut, corded muscle. She needed him to be stronger than any man she had ever known—stronger than Drogo, stronger than Viserys, stronger even than the cold destiny that had shaped her.

Naruto broke the kiss, dragging his lips down her throat. His hands found the small of her back, the heat of them seeming to sink through her skin and pool in her core.

“Show me your worth, Stranger,” she breathed, her control beginning to fray.

He chuckled, a dark, confident sound. “Gladly.”

With a flick of his wrist, a thin, almost invisible golden light flared on the black coils of iron on his arm. The glow traveled up his arm and then spread, covering his entire body in a thin, glowing film. It wasn't physical armor. It was energy.

“This is the Chakra of my home,” he whispered, his eyes blazing with the strange, beautiful blue light. “It is life and power. You want me to possess you? Feel it.”

He pushed her gently back onto the furs. The strange heat of the energy pulsed against her skin, a comforting, dominant warmth.

She watched as he stripped, every movement purposeful, revealing a body carved from hard work and combat, not courtly ease. As he was finally naked, his desire was evident, a brazen monument to his physical strength.

Daenerys reached up, running her hand down his side, tracing the lines of his abdomen. The muscle beneath her fingers was hard and warm, the thin sheen of golden energy crackling faintly, like silk that had been rubbed on dry desert air.

He knelt over her, the low light illuminating his features, making him look less like a man and more like a legend come to life.

“I do not submit easily,” she warned, her voice thick.

“I know,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “But power respects power. And I am going to make you feel mine.”

He didn't rush. He used his lips, his hands, and that strange, humming heat to map her body, touching places that Drogo had taken by force and revealing parts of herself she hadn't known existed. His mouth was wickedly skillful, trailing fire across her thighs until she was clutching the furs, her nails digging deep.

“Naruto,” she gasped, the foreign name feeling perfect and absolute on her tongue.

He paused, looking down at her, his eyes deep pools of desire and command. “Say my name again, Queen.”

“Naruto,” she whispered, offering the word like a prayer.

He moved between her legs, his hardened cock pressed against her heat, not moving, making the dragon queen whine in need. He positioned himself, his hands wrapping around her hips, lifting her slightly, holding her captive.

“Look at me, Daenerys,” he commanded.

She obeyed, her violet eyes locking onto his blue ones. The golden glow around him intensified, and she felt not just the physical man, but a wave of pure, elemental energy pressing against her, demanding entrance.

Naruto drove forward, a single, deep, powerful thrust that made her cry out in surprise and pleasure. The feeling was nothing like the heavy, blunt force of Drogo. This was smooth, complete, and intensely hot. The Chakra was a sheath around him, transferring a deep, vibrant heat into her core. She felt raw power being poured into her.

He began to move, slow at first, then picking up a relentless, driving pace that quickly turned the passion into a frantic, desperate need.

“More!” she hissed, her control shattering.

“Yes,” he grunted, his face a mask of primal effort. “I will give you all that you can handle and more, my Queen, so be mine!”

She clung to him, meeting his pace, her hips rising to meet every thrust. He was an elemental storm, the whirlwind in the endless grass. She felt the ancient, commanding spirit of the Dragon Kings answering the call of this stranger from the Sunless East. The power she wanted—the absolute, dominating strength—was not something she had to acquire. It was something she had just claimed with her body.

The cries that tore from her throat were lost in the roar of their blood. She climaxed first, a dizzying, all-encompassing wave of heat and light that washed out her vision, leaving only the blue and gold of his eyes.

He drove on, demanding more, holding her high on his length until his own release came, an absolute, powerful surge of heat and life that left her breathless and filled her womb, pinned beneath the sheer weight of his spent energy.

He collapsed, his skin slick with sweat, his golden glow fading to nothing. He rolled off her, pulling her close, resting his head on her silver hair.

Lemon Scene End

“I am worthy,” he whispered, his voice deep and satisfied.

Daenerys turned in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, his strange scent of citrus and sea salt intoxicating her. She looked up at him, a slight, victorious smile on her lips.

“Perhaps,” she allowed, though her body ached in the most wonderful way. She ran a finger over the smooth, hard black iron coils on his arm. “But a Queen is never easily won, Naruto Uzumaki. You have only earned the chance to stand by my side.”

She knew, in that moment, that she was lying to herself. He hadn't conquered her to serve him; he had conquered her to share his destiny. And she had never felt more powerful.

Chapter End

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A/N: In this story, Naruto possesses Magnet Release, which he utilizes for sealing purposes. This was meant to be a standalone story. Some may wonder why Dany chose to sleep with a complete stranger; the answer is quite simple—she was feeling aroused and found Naruto's looks and abilities appealing. Additionally, the only men in her vicinity are either barbaric, much older, or lacking certain attributes (aka a dick). I hope you enjoy the story until the next update!