She's never cared very much if there's sand or dirt or mud. Being under the sky was sacred to the Dothraki and she had practiced that quite happily. With a lover like Jon, someone she cared for so deeply, they could be in a thatched hut with dirt for a floor or in her palace in Mereen. It didn't matter.

Dany pressed close to him. It wasn't the same as the first time, when she had her Dothraki leathers. Now she had adopted the garb of the sailors, happily becoming one of them. It simply made it inconvenient for roaming hands and attentions.

She drew him into another kiss, stoking their desire and drawing out the frustration that had bothered them both for so long.