Drogo made very little protest as Daenerys scrubbed the wound clean. It hurt a great deal, but to show pain was to show weakness. He would not be perceived as weak, not even by his wife. When she pushed on a particularly pained spot, he would grunt, but that was it.

He watched the khaleesi's actions as she prepared a needle and string. This was something much closer to what he was used to in the art of healing. This was not the dark magic of the witch - he would have to remember to bring punishment upon her. Perhaps he would tie her limbs to their four strongest horses and have each run in a different direction. Or perhaps he would have her burned.

Those were the thoughts that ran through his head as his wife worked. It helped to keep his mind busy with something other than the wound.

Before Daenerys began stitching the wound, he drank the wine in his cup in one great gulp. The khal did not, however, take anything to bite down on. He would endure the pain, instead. Having the already tender flesh pierced by the hot needle hurt a great deal more than the scrubbing. He did not cry out, though. His expression was stone faced and did his best to keep it that way as his wife finished stitching the gash.