𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐎𝐚𝐭𝐡

All Love Must Die

Khal turned his fierce gaze towards Thirli, his frown deepening. "Thirli, you forget our traditions and the consequences of such disrespect. He will pay for this insolence, or our authority will crumble."

Daemon, still on his knees, struggled to speak, "There's room for negotiation. We can find a resolution without unnecessary bloodshed."

But Khal, fueled by anger and wounded pride, remained unyielding. "This is not negotiable. Our strength lies in our ability to strike fear into those who would challenge us. He will serve as an example."

Thirli shook their head, a mix of disappointment and frustration evident on their face. "You will not do such a thing... Can't the same dagger kill us?"

Thirli didn't yield and Khal growled as he lowered his weapon and turned around to enter his tent.

Daemon opened his mouth to speak but Thirli quickly raised her hand, "You will be smart to keep quiet now."

She turned to other women and spoke to them in Dothraki. Daemon couldn't understand them but their actions spoke more than just words.

Dothraki women stepped forward, their faces solemn but determined. With gentle hands, they helped Daemon to his feet, supporting him as they began to lead him towards one of the nearby tents.

Thirli observed silently, her gaze lingering on Daemon's figure as he was escorted away. He was a peculiar sight among the fierce Dothraki warriors, with his long white hair flowing behind him like a ghostly mane. But it was his eyes that captured her attention the most, a shade of violet she had never seen before, captivating and mysterious.

As the women disappeared into the tent with Daemon, Thirli couldn't shake the sense of intrigue that lingered in her mind. Who was this man, and what secrets did he carry within those piercing violet eyes? With a fleeting glance towards the tent, she knew that their paths would cross again, and she couldn't help but wonder what fate had in store for them both.

Thirli entered the tent, and the Dothraki women respectfully stepped aside, leaving her alone with Daemon. As he looked up at her, she could sense the pride in his eyes, and he spoke defiantly, "I can handle myself. I don't need you defending me from Khal."

Thirli scoffed, a wry smile playing on her lips. "And what kind of Khaleesi would I be if I let my warriors slaughter all the men around?" She dismissed the women with a nod, their departure allowing her to focus on Daemon.

Crouching beside him, Thirli dipped her fingers into the bowl beside her, containing a mixture of herbs and water. "You may be a skilled warrior, but even the strongest need assistance at times," she remarked, applying the soothing mixture to his wounds with a careful touch.

Daemon winced slightly but met her gaze with anger and hurt. Thirli continued, "We may not share the same customs, but in the face of conflict, alliances can be forged."

Daemon's frustration reached a boiling point, and in a sudden surge of defiance, he grabbed Thirli's hand, his eyes narrowing as he threatened, "I don't need your help. I can handle myself just fine."

Thirli, undeterred, raised an eyebrow at his audacity. With a swift and unexpected move, she flicked his forehead using just two fingers. As he let go in surprise, she chuckled, "Stubborn as a rock, aren't you? This isn't about proving strength, it's about survival."

She gestured towards the bowl of herbs and water. "These may not be part of your warrior rituals, but they'll prevent infection. Your strength won't mean much if you're laid low by a festering wound."

Daemon, still processing the unexpected flick, couldn't help but be intrigued by Thirli's assertiveness. She continued tending to his wounds, her touch a mixture of firmness and care.