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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
*author's note. i'm not really good at writing battle sequences, so hopefully this is good. lol*
~͓̽~͓̽~
51 | ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʟᴅᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒. They all wanted one thing. To be the greatest. Even Malaeya Lannister. Cersei Lannister wanted to be great in the name of power, but she wanted to be great in the name of love.
In their schemes and battle plans, they all failed to realize a simple truth. That no matter how great they become, how much power they wield, or how many riches they hoard, it won't matter in the end. Big or small, high or low, rich or poor, everyone ends the same way. In death and dirt.
Perhaps Queen Cersei finally realized that as she stared out over her balcony, watching with a stoic face as fleets fought in flames, as her soldiers lined the walls. As the keep whistled in silence. As she sipped her wine that tasted bitter with worry. As she stood, high above them all, watching men fight her battles from so far away that she couldn't even hear them scream as they died.
Perhaps she realized that her end was nigh, and that she'd succumb to death soon - in dirt and dust, or fire and blood. Perhaps that was why she swirled the wine around her tongue hoping for one last taste of sweet pleasure as she turned to her Hand.
"Have they been secured?"
Qyburn nodded from behind her. "Yes, your Grace. The remaining two-thousand citizens have been restrained in the corridors outside of the Great Hall."
The wind blew and Cersei exhaled it all in, smelling the smoke of flesh from afar as the wind carried it from the sea to her chambers. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine that it was a charred pig for her supper, and not the roasted flesh of soldiers who were supposed to be killing her enemies.
"And the barrels?"
"Tapped, Your Grace."
Her lips lifted in a small smile. If her poor niece thought she'd go out without a bang, then she was dumber than perceived. "Good."
The Queen opened her eyes and continued to look out. She saw the wolf banners of Stark flying outside of the city walls, waiting across from the lion banners of Lannister. It was a battle that had been years in the making. She hoped her men fought well. She'd be fine with dying if she took that brute, Robb Stark, with her.
