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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~͓̽~͓̽~
52 | ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ
𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀
"𝐌𝐀𝐋! 𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘." The words were muffled in her ears. They were the last thing she'd heard before she fell asleep.
She hadn't dreamt in so long. Not in the way that only one of Valyrian descent could. It was almost like trying to correct your handwriting after not having written anything in a long time. So familiar, yet so far away. Sitting in the palm of your hard, yet seemingly impossible to grasp.
She didn't know how long it had taken for her to finally open her eyes but when she did, she knew she was still dreaming. The dreams were always clearer than memories.
She wasn't in King's Landing anymore. She wasn't anywhere. She was in white. That's the only way she could explain it. The ground, the walls, the sky, it was all white. And in that bright white, stood a woman she knew.
Malaeya furrowed her eyebrows, confused. She'd seen her so many times before, but only in glimpses of the past. The woman had never stared back at her or noticed her presence. But this time, it was different.
Her lilac eyes stared not through her, but at her. She saw her.
Malaeya opened and closed her mouth, not sure what to say.
The woman laughed. "I know. It's a bit frightening, isn't it?"
"Are you real?" She looked real. She sounded real. But she was dead, so she couldn't be.
"Daenys is dead too, but she still saw you. You still saw her. Why should I be any different?" The woman stepped closer to her, long white hair moving gently.
"H-how." She couldn't wrap her head around it.
"How can I hear your thoughts or how am I here?"
Malaeya exhaled, still shocked. "Both."
Our family is special. You know this." Her soft hand wiped away a glass tear. "You, my dear, are particularly special. And I am so very proud of you."
Malaeya wanted to run away. To close her eyes and realize that it was all a dream. That none of it was real. But part of her, the child inside of her, wanted nothing more than to take the woman's hand and never return.
She involuntarily leaned into the soft hand, closing her eyes. "Am I dead?" The thought terrified her. But it also comforted her. If she were, it meant that she could stay wherever she was, with her.
