A headache plagued the young Queen since the end of the battle. Not from any physical blow. From the tears that had only recently stopped flowing. Her heart still ached. Before her rested Ser Jorah. He was still asleep, and she was unable to stop staring at his chest--ensuring that it continued to rise and fall. He’d received so many wounds during the battle. Not more than once, she believed that he had breathed his last.
As a result, the Queen existed on an unsteady platform between relief and sheer panic. Thus far, her knight had shown true strength. He had vowed once never to abandon her. She was counting on him to make good of his promise. A noise at the door was the only reason she removed her eyes from Jorah’s chest to see the Maester enter with new bandages and purified water and herbs for cleaning.
“Your Grace, I must clean his wounds,” the Maester bowed his head to her.
“I shall do it,” she said immediately, rising. “It must be me.”
The Maester looked confused, and then glanced the unconscious knight. “Your Grace, he is asleep. He will not know.”
Violet eyes turned towards her Bear. “He will know.” The Maester hesitated a moment before finally placing the tray in her hands with another bow. Once he was gone, Dany sat down and placed the tray beside her. Leaning over the knight, she carefully undid his shirt and winced--as she always did--when she saw the existing bandages. They were less stained with blood but the wounds themselves made her feel ill whenever she saw them.
Deftly, she removed each bandage and carefully applied the poultice over the gashes and puncture wounds. A few tears rolled down her cheeks all the same. He was her great protector, but it still hurt her to see him clinging to life like this. Once she had smoothed the poultices over his wounds, she wrapped them in the fresh bandages, and then carefully tied his tunic once more.
Releasing a shaky breath, she dipped a cloth into warmed water and gently began to dab against his forehead and face to keep him cool.
@singingoficeandfire
