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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~͓̽~͓̽~
31 | ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ
𝐉𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄 KING'S LANDING
𝐉𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃. Physically, mentally, and spiritually. He had been wholly and irrevocably changed for the worse. His right hand had been chopped off, leaving him practically worthless. His long golden hair had been taken to the sharp edge of a knife.
But what changed him the most, was learning of his daughter's demise. He had never felt so alone. His heart had never ached so harshly. Not even when his love had died. No love felt as good as the love a parent had for their child, and no pain hurt as badly as when a parent lost their child.
Jaime had fallen to his knees in the Great Hall, sobbing for all to see. He couldn't have cared less about the watchful eyes of the court.
He had never once struck Joffrey, but when he had called him to the Throne Room, in front of all the nobles of the court, claiming to have an important announcement, and instead congratulated him on the death of his 'traitorous daughter,' he had.
He had decked him across the chin, the best that he could with his left hand, in front of the entire court. He had cursed his name and spat at his feet.
When the other Kingsguards pulled him away, he'd been feral trying to get back to him, and to his spiteful father who stood at his side. He'd tried so hard that he had nearly taken his last hand off on the swords of the Iron Throne.
He remembered Cersei's anger, and shock as he struck their child, and disrespected his rule in front of the entire court. He remembered the betrayal she displayed across her face.
But he didn't care. His baby girl was dead, killed by her own brother.
Perhaps it was the cruel lesson of the gods, The Mother and The Father, punishing him for the sinful acts that had brought Joffrey into the world.
For the first time in his life, Jaime regretted his time with Cersei. He wished that he could go back to that night, all those years ago, and never conceive him.
He knew the truth now. Joffrey could never compare to Malaeya. Nor Tommen or Myrcella.
They had never truly been his.
Malaeya had. From the moment that Aerys had taken his last breath, she had been his to raise. And he had raised her, with the hopes that she would do better in life than he had.
And that life had been taken from her.
By Joffrey and Tywin.
It was his fault. He created the beast that had devoured her.
