*NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED*
Elena Stormfyre was not happy. She was lost in the woods. Her dress was tattered, her hair tangled. Her throat was dry and it hurt to breathe.
Its ok, someone will come.
She was doubting it though. No. Ser Garlenn will come for me, he is my sworn sword.
She sat on a low branch, and began to cry. So lost was she in her tears, that she didn't notice the mad man until he was upon her. Her scream died in her throat.
"P-please, My father, he will give you gold. Jewels, land, whatever you desire shall be yours." SHe pleaded, her voice small. The man laughed.
"Oh no, little dragon princess. Your father will die, and painfully too, but not before he sees his beloved daughter on her own throne." He grabbed her hair, and threw her over his shoulder.
Elena woke from a sharp pain in her cheek. The man had slapped her. "Wake up, little dragon. It is time for you to be crowned." He smiled.
From behind his back, he produced a small crown, shabbily made from tin or iron. He also produched a small needle, with some thread. He walked over, needle in hand. He grabbed her lipes, and drove the needle roughly through the skin. ELena screamed, and forced her mouth open, ripping her lip open. Blood gushed from the wound. The man proceeded to sow her mouth shut. Elena whimpered.
"No, time for the crowning". He picked up the tarnished crown, and placed it on her head. He wrapped the thread around it, then pierced the needle through her scalp, fastening the crown on. Her hair was matted with blood. He dragged her over to a small chair, a miniature throne.
He poured a cauldron of melted metal onto it, forming thick sludgy layer. He then lifted her up and seated her on it, the boiling metal scalding her skin, fusing her permanently to the seat.
Please let me die. she thought desperately. Let it end.
