Born of spite, fostered in pity, shrouded in fear.
Malaeya Lannister was a mystery to every soul in the Seven Kingdoms and far beyond. Many a song written in her name, yet few eyes had laid upon her. Locked away in the Red Keep, a need budded within...
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~͓̽~͓̽~
27 | ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴡᴏʟꜰ
𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 A FOREST IN THE RIVERLANDS
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐁 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃. It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. Not long after he'd woken up and murmured her name, he'd let out an agonizing scream. Only then did she realize that she'd been pressing on his wound. The moment she had lifted her hand, he'd fallen back unconscious. She'd been confused at first.
Had she let her fears get the best of her and imagined him dead when really, he'd just been unconscious? Or had he been dead and still was, and her mind had simply been playing tricks on her?
She didn't know. But what she did know was that she had to get him out of the castle. Her relief had turned to confusion, confusion to fear, and fear to determination.
She had used his own belt to tie a folded cloak underneath his head, and the belt of a nearby body to tie his hands together by the wrists. She'd tried pulling him with her hands, but he was much heavier than he appeared. So, she wrapped the belt around her waist and began trudging forward, ignoring the pain in her hips as she did.
After also having had her sword pressed into her hip for hours and having the weight of a grown man tied to her body, she was surprised that she could still walk.
Malaeya had discarded of most of her belongings, to make herself lighter, but she had not meant to leave the crimson lion necklace that her father had gifted her on her tenth nameday. It must have fallen off, but she didn't have time to look for it.
She pulled his body out of the castle, making sure to go out of the side exit to avoid the pile of dead bodies at the front. The flames outside were still burning, and as she had pushed through, the two dragons followed her, seemingly knowing who she was just by sight. She found it strange. She hadn't even been there for their births.
But if what Daenys said was true, and she assumed it had been, she had old magic in her veins. Spells and sorcery. Perhaps the dragons could feel it.
She had a dragon on each shoulder, claws digging into them and drawing blood, and belt digging into her hip. She was in pain, but she ignored it. She pushed through it to save the man she loved.
She didn't stop until they'd reached a secluded pasture somewhere in the Riverlands.
She knew they were supposed to be going to Dorne, but he was unwell. She was unwell. They had no allies. They would be dead before they ever made it that far south. She knew that their only hope was to make it to his mother's home. They had allies there, and they could get help. But they wouldn't make it to Riverrun in a day.
