Irri Chapter 2

" Who was that Dothraki girl"? she was beautiful! He knew he had three choices: 1. He could talk to her again and smuggle in a question about her name, this seemed the most likely outcome, no matter how hard this would be. 2. He could talk to his queen and ask her for her handmaiden's name, this would not be easy either seeing as this would make him have to tell her something he would like to keep secret. He wanted as little people as possible knowing about this. 3. He could prick his ears up and hope to hear her name through the grapevine. This could work, yes, but he did not know the names of the other handmaidens either, this made it a possibility that he could hear a name he thought was hers, go to talk to her, only to find out it was the wrong name. Although, he could listen, when she was talking to her queen or the other handmaiden she was usually with, whose name had also eluded him.

He thought for a bit but concluded that it would be best to talk to her, because if he were to call her by name, she would ask him who told him her name. He wanted to make a good impression.

But when to talk to her? It would be best to talk to her when she was alone, that is what he wanted at least. But he did not want her to feel alone or exposed. She had started talking to him first, so she evidently had no problem speaking to him, but he did not want her friends to be there when he spoke to her, even though she would most probably tell her Dothraki friends and their queen about it later, that was unavoidable, but it would be easier for him if they were alone.

He had pondered his feelings for her ever since they spoke, and she hurried off to Daenerys Targaryen. Did he love her? It wasn't impossible, but he still felt he needed to talk to her and get to know her on a more personal level before he could say for sure that he loved her.

She did seem a wonderful person though, just a kind of woman he would like to marry. But that probably would not happen.

She seemed happy and resilient most of the time, but he had seen her sad at certain times, she looked like something had been taken away from her and she could not get it back no matter how much she tried. That, if anything, was something she would have to tell him about herself.

They were still in the desert, the unsullied man he had come to know as Grey Worm, Jorah and some other unsullied men went in though a secret opening and inside the city, spoke to the slaves and got them to start a riot and take their freedom and a lot of the slaveowners were killed, it started late at night and kept on through to the dawn.

The now freed slaves joined Daenerys's group what she had started to call her Family.

He needed to talk to her as well he needed to know what he was supposed to do once his leg was fixed. He thought about fixing it himself but that would most probably only make it much worse.

While he was thinking about this, someone came up behind him and pulled him up, this made him grimace when weight was put on his leg, but he hid it well. He looked up and saw that it was Ser Jorah and said nothing as he limped with him into the city which made him wonder, was he finally going to get his leg fixed? It could not be anything else certainly not anything to do with the girl. He hadn't told anyone about her, so no one knew he wanted to talk to her.

They walked through the turquoise streets and every now and again he saw scribbled on the walls with what he thought was the blood of the wise masters of Yunkai. " Death to the wise masters." Several bodies were laying in a pile in a corner of a dark alley. He took one fleeting glance at them, and then moved on. He felt it was justice for how they treated other people, the slaves. He did not understand how one man or woman for that matter could own another human being, it was not right. These were thoughts that were giving him no sleep lately, people, especially children should not be owned by another person and forced to do their bidding with no say in the matter. He knew he needed to let this go, or he would never find peace.

After about 7 minutes of walking and limping, they made it to a shop owned by a man who looked to be in his fifties, with chains around his neck, talking to a young boy who most likely was a former slave about how to treat his father's wound he had sustained as he killed a wise master during the night before. He sat down on a pillow on the floor and waited for the conversation to be over. Jorah sat down next to him on another pillow.

It was morning and the sunrays beamed in through the cut out open windows in the shop which also operated as a clinic for the town's residents, masters as well as slaves.

As the young boy left with the salve the maester turned his attention to Ser Jorah and Arnette saying "Well who do we have here, then? Arnette tries to stand up but falls with the weight on his left knee and he has to bite his knuckles to keep from shrieking, but his resistance is futile, and a shriek does get expelled from his lungs.

The maester comes and Arnette says he has been in pain for 3 days since he fell with all his weight on his left knee on a jagged edge of a limestone and has been limping since then, he wants to stand up again but even moving his leg hurts even more now. The maester by the name of Daggard told him that he better come in to the clinic and Jorah and the maester help Arnette limp to a bed inside, they lay him down and Daggard left quickly and returned a few minutes later with a medium sized jar filled with a white substance and strode over to Arnette and handed it over to him and saying with a serious look on his face "Drink this, just trust me" Arnette looked at Jorah who nodded and so he took the jar and asked "all?" Daggard nodded "yes all of it, you will need it" Arnette started getting nervous but did as he was bid and gulped it all down and heaved himself up to sit with his back against the wall. Daggard unlaced Arnette's breaches and removed them, eliciting a small wince from him. He looked at the knee and quickly assumed that it was not only severely bruised but also dislocated. "This knee is dislocated, I need to push it back in to place, because if I do not do this, then you might not walk on it again". He stood so that he could firmly grasp the kneecap and while moving the leg to the right also moved the kneecap to the right with Arnette wishing with all his might that he could be somewhere else but here as the pain was excruciating. He breathed in and out , and in and out and as Daggard moved the knee to the right one more time and the kneecap slid back into place he shrieked and then laid back down. He was still panting as Daggard laid the knee down slowly. The pain was still there but slowly going away. Daggard told him not to put so much weight on it and that he would be limping for about a month. Arnette thanked him but was disappointed that he shrieked and expressed this quietly as he was standing up and trying to walk on his own but realising that he needed Jorah's help who slid under his right arm and they walked the 7 minutes back to the camp outside the city

On their way out of the city they met the young girl Arnette wanted to talk to as she was bringing water from the city to the horses. She saw them and asked if he was alright while glancing up at Arnette who said that he was OK but that he would be limping for about a month but that it would be improving slowly. "Can you walk? she asked curiously. He answered that he couldn't, not now at least. He asked to be sat down and Jorah sat him down on a blanket in her queen's tent with the girl sitting down next to him. He decided that now would be as good a time as any, so he asked, "excuse me miss, but could you please tell me your name"? She looked at him for a while then said, "my name is Irri, what is your name"? "My name is Arnette nice to meet you miss he said with her saying was her pleasure. Then she stood up and said she needed to attend to her queen, waved at him and Jorah and hurried off with Arnette following her with his gaze until she disappeared in to the tent.

Jorah noticed this and teased him saying, "So I guess she is special to you, right, is that why you can't stop looking for her"?

Arnette squirmed where he sat, unable to meet the gaze of the queen's warrior. "Yes, I like her I really do" Jorah told him that if he felt that way for her, to maybe speak to her again and get to know her, or, maybe speak to Daenerys and tell her how he felt for Irri.

Arnette met his gaze and said that he probably would have to do that. But that would have to be after his leg healed to the point that he could at least walk with a limp.

Jorah asked how much he liked her, Arnette answering that he wasn't sure as he had never been in love and so therefore never knew what it felt like, but he was having difficulties speaking to her or meeting her gaze. The conversation he and Irri had just been having, although short, took all his concentration and he was so close to slip up but thank the Gods he did not.

Jorah just smiled saying nothing and went to guard the queen's tent.

Arnette felt the milk of the poppy doing its job and as the sun was setting, he fell asleep.