A/N: I'm gonna need a ton of reviews to post the next chapter. If you guys want this sort of story, it will end up long and complex. It will take mucho encouragement : )
If Things Were Different
Are You a Good Witch? Or a Bad Witch?
Daenerys sat on her grey filly, watching the women of the Lhazareen village be herded into a pen; their screams and cries pierced the bright blue sky.
"Let them go," the khaleesi ordered the blood riders. Rakharo rode up next to her.
"This is the way of war, khaleesi," he said gently. Daenerys locked eyes with a young woman from the other side of the gate.
"I do not care, I am Khaleesi. I will claim them for myself," she stated, giving Mago a smug grin. He looked up at her, infuriated. Rakharo nodded, shouting to the men.
"Thank you khaleesi! Thank the gods!" The woman cried. Daenerys smiled slightly and rode up to her. Mago mounted his hose and tore off to camp, no doubt to tell Drogo about what she had done.
"What is your name?" The khaleesi asked to the young woman who smiled kindly at her.
"I am Ino. One of the temple maids-" another, older woman walked over to them. Ino sighed, "this is the high priestess, Mirri Maz Dur."
"I am Daenerys. I will see to it that you and the other women are not harmed," the khaleesi affirmed. She knew she had to go and explain herself, Mago had probably been giving Drogo an earful. Urging the filly on, she and the women made their way up to the camp.
"She has taken them! All of them!" Daenerys could hear Mago yelling as she walked into camp, seeing Drogo sitting on a throne and Mago next to him.
"Little moon of my life," he started with a small knowing smirk, "Mago says you have taken his spoils, a daughter of a lamb man who was his to mount. Tell me the truth of this."
The khaleesi paused for a moment, seeming to collect herself before answering. Drogo leaned toward her and Mago stood next to him with a conceited grin, "Mago speaks the truth, my sun-and-stars. I have claimed many daughters this day…so they cannot be mounted."
Drogo frowned slightly, "this is the way of war…these women are slaves now, to do with as we please."
"It pleases me to keep them safe. If your riders would mount them, let them take them for wives," Daenerys countered, her eyes begging him to understand. Mago looked from her back to the khal who was fighting to contain his amusement.
"Does the horse mate with the lamb?" Drogo retorted jokingly.
The khaleesi met his eyes, smirking, "the dragon feeds on horse and lamb alike."
"You are a foreigner, you do not command me!" Mago told her hotly. Daenerys turned her chin up defiantly.
"I am Khaleesi. I do command you." She retorted.
Drogo grinned smugly at Mago, "see how fierce she grows? That is my son inside her, the stallion that will mount the world. Filling her with his fire"
Daenerys stared at him confidently, she knew he knew she was right. Drogo sighed, "I will hear no more of this; Mago go find somewhere else to stick your cock."
The khaleesi smiled happily, but quickly stifled it. Mago was not pleased and spat bitterly on the ground, causing Drogo to eye him angrily. The blood rider drew his arakh and pointed it at the khal, "a khal who takes orders from a foreign whore is no khal!"
One of the other blood riders, Khomoa stepped between Mago and the still sitting khal. Ready to protect Drogo with his life.
"Khomoa, leave him," the man stood down. Drogo met Mago's eye, "I will not have your body burned. I will not give you that honor."
With that, the khal stood up from next to his seat and turned to the angry blood rider, walking right into his arakh. Mago looked uncertain now, not moving his weapon from Drogo's chest, but not striking either. Glaring down at him, the khal moved into the blood rider's weapon, not flinching at the pain of being cut.
"The beetles will feed on your eyes. The worms will crawl through your lungs," Drogo stated, advancing on Mago who began to back away. He swung first and the khal ducked under, smoothly missing the blade and causing the blood rider's inertia to throw him forward. Pulling out twin daggers he continued, "the rain will fall on your rotting skin…until nothing is left but your bones!"
He dropped both daggers and ran at Mago who swung wildly at his constantly moving target.
"You have to kill me first."
"I already have," was Drogo's calm reply. He then used the dull end of Mago's arakh to puncture his throat, Mago oozing blood but refusing to fall. Swiftly glancing at Daenerys, the khal's anger was relit- remembering the blood rider's slur toward her. He ripped Mago's throat out. Carrying it back to the discarded meat pile before returning to his seat. The khaleesi ran over to him, sitting beside him with a look of concern on her face,
"my sun-and-stars is wounded."
Drogo glanced at his chest and at the fairly large cut marring it, "a scratch, little moon" he assured her. She was still obviously panicked.
"Where are the healers?" she asked Khomoa, who glanced at the khal.
"A bite of a fly," he assured the blood rider who gave a quick smile of agreement. One of the slave women spoke, stepping out from the pack,
"I can heal the great rider's wound."
Khamoa turned to her, not allowing her to pass, "the khal needs no help from slaves who lie with sheep."
"She is mine, let her speak," Daenerys commanded; never moving from her spot beside Drogo, recognizing her from earlier. The woman walked up closer, still stopped by Khamoa's arakh.
"I am Mirri Maz Dur, I am a god's wife," she re introduced herself, ignoring Khamoa's taunt of 'witch' and spoke to Daenerys, "my mother has taught me to make healing smokes and ointments. All men are one flock- so my people believe. The great shepherd-"
"She speaks nothing but lies!" A voice cut Mirri Maz Dur off mid sentence. Daenerys looked up to see the other woman, Ino pointing an accusatory finger at the older woman. Drogo frowned, looking from one woman to the other.
"Speak, priestess," the khaleesi commanded her. Ino cast a sidelong glance at the fuming Mirri Maz Dur.
"If you are as fond of your husband as you seem, you will not allow her to 'heal' him," Ino explained. Daenerys saw nothing but truth in the woman's face, and allowed her to continue.
"Do not listen to her, she is sick!" Mirri pleaded, Drogo's head snapped toward the closer woman, although he did not understand what she had said.
"Then why did you appoint me priestess? Please, don't let her near the great rider," Ino asked Daenerys. The blood riders watched the goings on with rapt interest, unable to understand what was being discussed.
"Why should I trust you?" The khaleesi asked, not unkindly. Drogo nudged her with his leg and she turned and quickly explained the proceedings. The khal lapsed back into silence.
"I do not dabble in black magic," Ino said, glaring at Mirri.
"If his would is not treated, it will fester," Mirri Maz Dur told Daenerys, pointing to the bleeding cut on Drogo's chest.
"If she treats it, he will die," Ino reiterated. The khaleesi looked up at Drogo who was looking down at her; however he tried to hide it, he was afraid. Not afraid enough for anyone else to see, but Daenerys saw it in his dark green eyes. She touched his leg reassuringly.
"Do you feel that this wound is life threatening?" Daenerys asked Ino, She wanted to know just how much either of them were lying. Ino nodded gravely.
"Can you dress his wound then?" She asked, the face the woman had made had Daenerys truly scared for Drogo's condition for the first time.
Ino smiled warmly, "of course khaleesi. I will need a jug of any sort of alcohol, a needle and some thread."
The khaleesi was relieved and told the khal what was to be done if he would allow it.
"If you trust her, little moon, then I trust her," Drogo replied, giving her a quick smile, despite the pain that was now acute in his chest.
"When can you do it?" Daenerys asked Ino.
"As soon as I get what I need," the witch replied, glaring at Mirri who had lapsed into silence.
"Take her away, and Rakharo can you fetch me some wine, a needle and thread?" The khaleesi asked. Rakharo nodded and left. Two blood riders took Mirri away and the other women left with the blood riders to go back to camp; that was now their home.
"Come my sun-and-stars, lets go back to our hut," Daenerys ushered Drogo after everyone else had left save her, him and Ino. The khaleesi took his hand, seeing that he had paled considerably since he was wounded. Drogo stood slowly and because no one was around to see them, they walked hand in hand all the way back.
Ino was pleased by the wine and thick, coarse thread Rakharo brought her after she entered the hut, "thank you."
Rakharo had no idea what she said, but based on the situation and her tone, he assumed she thanked him and he gave her a brief smile before heading out. Ino then turned her attention back to Drogo who was sitting on the low bed, Daenerys next to him.
"I want you to watch, khaleesi. You can do this on your own. It is very effective and very simple," Ino explained, knotting the end of the thread and looping it on the needle before putting them both in the wine.
Daenerys smiled and nodded, "good."
Ino first dunked a cloth into the wine, "this keeps the wound from festering. There is something special in wine or beer that keeps the redness and swelling away. This is good to do on any cut. This will sting, do tell him that."
The khaleesi relayed the message and Drogo grunted in acknowlegement, hardly flinching when she washed out the long cut with wine. Ino turned back to Daenerys, "now I will close the wound so dirt and dust cannot disrupt the healing. Make sure to knot the end a lot and tell him to not move for the next week or so."
"Drogo, she will close the wound, but you must not move that part very much for the next few weeks," Daenerys explained to him. He looked at Ino as if she were stupid; asking a khal to not move was like asking a horse to not run!
"Tell him that if the stitches rip out, I will have a bigger hole to fix," Ino retorted, judging from Drogo's tone of voice that he was unhappy with the news. She took the needle and without warning began to stitch his wound closed. Daenerys laughed and relayed the message, Drogo just watched her sew him up; going back and forth until a tight line of stitches held his cut closed.
"It will begin to itch. That is good, do not scratch it," she said directly to Drogo so he would understand its importance. The khaleesi translated and he nodded in agreement.
"Thank you so much!" Daenerys exclaimed, smiling brightly toward the witch, "but why? Why not just let Mirri Maz Dur kill Drogo?"
Ino thought for a moment, "anyone who tampers with the black magic is not accepted by the gods. It is used for personal gain, which is not what the Great Shepherd had intended. As a healer, I cannot stand suffering- no matter who is its victim."
The khaleesi nodded and thanked her again, but still not moving from Drogo's side, "tell Rakharo I want you to have your own tent by tomorrow. You may stay with him if you like, he will not harm you."
"Thank you khaleesi," Ino replied, walking out of the tent and bumping into Rakharo.
"How are you feeling?" Daenerys asked once Ino had gone. Drogo still looked pale to her. He smiled weakly.
"I am fine little moon," Drogo affirmed although he still felt dizzy. He laid back on the bed and closed his eyes, feeling the khaleesi curl up beside him.
"You have lost a lot of blood my sun-and-stars, you will feel better by morning," Daenerys told him, knowing Drogo would never admit he didn't feel well, "I'm sorry my actions made you hurt."
Drogo looked at her as she lay with her head on his chest (on the side without stitches), and ran his hands through her long, silver hair, "little moon of my life, no one who calls you a whore will live to tell the tale."