conqueress: (queen in the high tower)
ᴅᴀᴇɴᴇʀʏs ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ♛ ([personal profile] conqueress) wrote in [personal profile] apoptotic 2017-05-29 08:35 pm (UTC)

Only when you were younger? [ she asks sweetly.

He will be an old man and reminiscing the same of now. His hand is gentle, the metal one careful to avoid harsh contact, and she sighs when the salve is applied, grateful for the cool relief. There is something thick like a paste in the bandages, slippery, but not uncomfortable, and it does not ooze out onto her skin when the cloth is folded over.

Behind them, Drogon's anger has begun to cool. Perhaps it is the absence of some foreign substance in his blood, or perhaps it is Dany's own growing calm, but he brings up a winged claw and licks at the leather around it, a long, black tongue tending to a graze. On the ground, the metal has cooled to a queer shape, though it is still hot to the touch. ]


My army boils wine to stave away rot, [ she tells him as he finishes the tie on one hand. ] Bandages to conceal open wounds. Yet more oft than not, they fester unless some healer attends to their ranks. In Westeros the maesters are the learned healers, trained for years in their Citadel, though in Essos much of that responsibility falls to traveling women. Witches and maegi, who study under sorcerors in far-feared lands.

[ She had burned one of them. ]

You speak of your Obi-Wan often. [ The ties finished, she asks, ] Do you hope the rift should find him, as well?

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