*UNDER EDITING* The Silver Dragon | Khal Drogo

Chapter Ten

Natheriya woke up to the sound of her husband's pained groaning. She opened her eyes and turned, seeing her Khal taking the bandages off slowly. She gasped and got out of her bed, steadying herself before rushing over to him. "Stop it, you fool!" She scolded, urging him to sit down as she grabbed her healing supplies.

She went to work, Khal Drogo watching her intently. He watched as she shook her head and scolded him once more as she redressed his wounds. Natheriya placed a gentle kiss upon it before packing her supplies away. "Never do that again, do you hear me?" She didn't look at him as she gathered is clothing for the day.

Drogo chuckled, "I hear you, my wife." He placed his large hands on her hips as she stood in front of him.

Nath looked at him through her lashes and a small smile graced her face, "Good." They were silent after that, Natheriya moving behind him to sit on the bed as she carefully braided his hair. When she was done, Drogo stood and pulled on a pair of his riding pants, Natheriya placing his gold belt around him. She placed her lips upon his back before walking around to his front. Drogo placed his hands on her stomach, caressing her before walking out of the tent.

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Days past and Drogo's wound was starting to heal. The maegi that came along with the khalasar was making Natheriya feel uneasy. The other women she saved were serving as extra slaves, working with the food.

Nath felt the eyes of one of the maegi on her as she dismounted her horse. Rakharo, noticing the uncomfortable look on his Khaleesi's face, yelled at the woman, threatening her with the whip. The woman turned away and Nath gave him a grateful smile.

Her sister and handmaidens came to her, leading her to the tent she shared with her husband. Dany helped the other girls undress her sister for a bath. She washed her hair as Atia cleaned her body, despite Natheriya's protests.

"You don't have to bathe me, Atia," Natheriya said with a small laugh.

"Of course, I do, Khaleesi. You have grown bigger and it's almost time. You need all the assistance you can get," her friend responded, making her roll her eyes.

Irri, Doreah, and Jhiqui giggled as they put away Natheryia's clothes. The group chatted, telling stories and laughing. Once Nath's bath was finished, they helped her stand and leave the tub. Dany brushed her sister's hair once she was dressed in her night shift, the others bustling around to clean up and get rid of the tub.

"Ser Jorah told me that we still have brother's body," Daenerys said softly. Natheriya stiffened as she heard the words leave her mouth. She silently cursed the exiled knight and sighed.

"Yes, we do. I have spoken with Atia and have come to a decision. I will allow brother to have a pyre, but it will be on my terms on how it will be carried out," the silver-haired khaleesi told her silver-haired sister. She turned her head and saw the smile on her sister's face, feeling Dany's arms wrap around her.

"Oh, sister, thank you!"

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The fire raged and men laughed, drank, and ate around it outside of the tent. Natheriya decided to join them that night, her sister and Atia helping her up and out of the tent. The Khal straightened up and smirked when he saw his wife, moving over where he was sat so she could sit next to him. Her three other handmaidens saw her and rushed to set pillows down where she was going to sit.

Natheriya smiled at them as she slowly and carefully sat next to her husband. He turned to her and placed a kiss on the top of her head. He noticed how the fire light made her thin night shift slightly translucent. Normally, he would have been angry, but he knew it was one of the few clothing items that was comfortable for her after a long time riding.

He held her close to him as the night went on. Suddenly, he felt his wife tense up and turned to look at her. Drogo went to ask her what was wrong before he saw liquid dripping down her legs. His wife let out a pained gasp and turned to him, "He's coming," she told him before screaming in pain. The feast stopped, everyone watching with wide eyes.

Her handmaidens came to her side immediately, a slave who helped the women give birth came along with them. They quickly led Natheriya to her and Drogo's tent, the Great Khal following after them. He glared down at his wife's sister when she stopped them.

"Men can not come in. You must wait out here," Dany told him softly, turning around and heading inside of the tent. The Khal's bloodriders, along with Natheriya's and Ser Jorah, pulled Drogo back and watched him.

With every scream of pain and effort that entered the night air, the Khal grew restless. His men and Jorah kept a close eye on him, making sure he didn't enter the tent. It went on for hours and hours, until the noise stopped completely. Khal Drogo shot up from where he was sitting, worry covering his face.

A healthy, loud cry split the silence and the Khal relaxed knowing his son was alive and well. Atia stepped out of the tent, looking at Drogo, gesturing for him to follow her. He did so quickly, stopping at the sight of his child laying in the arms of his wife. She was pale, paler than normal, her hair stuck to her face and matted with sweat, the same substance that covered her entire body.

Blood stained the covers on the bed and her night shift. The newborn baby in her weak arms was clean, gently washed by Irri, and bundled up in a blanket. Daenerys sat at her sister's side, patting a cool rag on Natheriya's forehead. The silver-haired Khaleesi looked up, smiling weakly at her husband.

"Rhaego. His name is Rhaego," she whispered to him as he kneeled at her side.

Drogo moved his gaze from their child and looked fondly at his love. "A strong name," he responded. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her pale lips. She smiled weakly when he pulled away. The smile dropped from her face as she turned her head and began to cough. A trickle of blood fell from her lips and Drogo's eyes widened in panic.

Dany gasped, alerting the handmaidens. Atia rushed over, taking Rhaego from his mother's arms and moving to the side of the tent. Irri and Doreah left the tent, calling for the slaves that worked as healers.

"What is happening?" The Khal demanded, looking at Atia handing Rhaego to Jhiqui.

"This has never happened after birth to my knowledge. I am not sure," Atia explained softly, going over to her friend quickly.

Drogo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. He couldn't lose her. He wouldn't. The sound of frantic footsteps filled his ears and he didn't respond to being pushed aside by the healers. They went to work, Drogo pacing back and forth as he kept his eyes on his weak wife. He felt a small hand touch his arm and he stopped his movements. Looking down at the tear-filled eyes of his wife's sister. Daenerys began to sob, wrapping her small arms around him. He sighed, feeling himself start to cry, and he returned her hug.

He didn't know how much time had passed. He and Daenerys had fallen to the ground, holding each other for comfort. The girl had cried herself to sleep and Drogo ordered for Rakharo to send her to her tent. The healers had left after the did everything they could to help their Khaleesi. Now, it was all up to waiting and time for his silver-haired love to wake.

He sat at her side, his large hand holding her small one tightly. He stayed in that position until the sun rose, his eyes never leaving her. The camp was calm and quiet, his people knowing that the Khal wouldn't hesitate to hurt anyone who disrupted him. It was like that for days, until the fifth.

The Great Khal felt movement, his head immediately turning from his wife's face to their joined hands. Her fingers twitched, then squeezed, and then Drogo looked at his wife's face as a whimper left her mouth. Her eyes fluttered, then opened.