My kidnnaper
It was scarier every second, and she did not know what to do. The last thing she remembered seeing was the tall man in scary armor. His face was burnt and deformed, making his appearance more frightening than one could think of being. She knew him but the truth was that before she'd never looked at him. She had never seen him for a long time and had never heard anything about him. She only knew how good he was with the sword. Se would never forget the sword fight he had had with The Mountain. But what she knew about him came down to this: "The Dog, King Joffrey's Hound, tall and burnt-faced, brutal with his sword." That was it, not one more letter.
"Let me try this." The man next to him smiled an extremely wide and cruel smile, interested in the young woman he was looking at, his bloody eyes for possessing her as brutal as he could.
"Do not touch this one, Drewn." The Dog growled and strode toward the girl, tossing it over his shoulders, not gently.
"The Dog," they called him as he passed by and this frightened her more and more by the sheer fear and contempt they displayed. She heard the sounds of the swords, the blood dripping but her eyes remained closed. She was afraid, she could not deny and she was sore and she knew what would happen; he would rape her.
She could not tell when they had covered her face with that smelly bag, or how long she had walked, only heard someone say something to the man:
"Place her on the horse and get her out of here. Those who will be with you are coming." And it just felt like being put on a horse, already with hands tied and you can feel the Knight with the burned face sit in front of her but this did not move, just waited until some more horses and carts joined them and trotted.
Those long days passed as if they were the last of the girl. She did not speak even if they spoke to her. She did not cry, even if they screamed, even if they wanted to possess her. She did not feel protected, even if the Dog threatened them if they touched her and did not eat.
"You should eat, Milady." "Dog said the lower one who managed to mock the last word, removing his hood, but she was startled to see that for the first time somebody gave her the food, and it was Dog. She was looking disgusted at his scars. He did not untie her, just raised the food, so that she could eat it. She did not look at him, just bit the food. "Come on, 'Milady' drink." She drank it carefully and removed a handkerchief and wiped her mouth, but she still did not look at him. He repeated that gesture for a few days, always more arrogant than the day before but she did not look at him and that was what irritated him.
She said nothing, just ate and drank. She huddled over Dog's horse. She felt as if her bones were breaking with every trot of the horse and Dog barely slept. She did not even pay attention to the men who were shouting for her but Clegane always gave them menacing glances, which shook violently with fear.
"The Dog will give in. He hears the Lannister, but he cannot resist such a body. Count the days, bitch Baratheon. My dick will still be inside of you before we get to Kings Landing. "
She could tell, but she would not know. She was afraid and with every movement near her, she felt she would be raped. This was the most frequent danger for all women and one of the most terrible. Be raped, raped and raped.
She only opened her eyes when she heard excessive murmurs. They were in Kings Landing, she knew. They trotted over and over until she felt herself being pulled from her horse when they were still trotting. She was thrown to the ground with violence, and several hands touched her, scraped her, and she could feel two kicks on her back.
They screamed incomprehensible things while they were still trying to lynch it. She can feel the men and women being yanked out of her, and once again put on the horse trotting even faster. The burned rider took her from her horse again and ripped the bag from her head, and then she could see everything, ignoring where it hurt in her body. She could see Joffrey on the iron throne, his flawless crown shining brightly and his cruel eyes accompanied a wicked grin. Beside him, Cersei Lannister could not be found had been temporarily sent to Casterly Rock, while her father was busy with the war with almost the entire army.
"That, my people is Clarie Baratheon. A distant cousin, bastard of Newt Baratheon, despite the name. She sent troops, openly supporting Stannis, ordered an attack on my grandfather's troops, and ...
"I've never done that", she cried "How could I, I'm just a bastard." She did not even notice when she said those words she saw Joffrey's gaze go to her in that terrible and as intractable a way as only he could manage. Of course, she strongly believed that he was Jaime's bastard, that was his only crime but he never said it high enough to be condemned.
"Are you saying that I lie ?!" He rose from the throne, menacing, brandishing in his squeaky voice but she did not answer him, just turned her gaze to the king's boots, deciding that she would calm down once more. Joffrey looked at her for a few seconds. "Once Sansa left, I had nothing to play with but it seems, ladies and gentlemen," he would say to the half-dozen vassals there. "That Dog brought me something new, did he not? How about we start with something like cut a finger or maybe an entire hand? What do you think?" He asked her and he laughed, amused himself, reaching out to anyone beside him and got a medium-sized dagger and started down the stairs quietly while cleaning his nails. The burned knight shifted behind the girl, stepping back so that Joffrey felt more at ease. He stopped in front of her, still wiping his nails and after a second look at the brunette, who was still interested in the black of the king's shoes.
"Stretch her arm Dog," he said, waiting for the burned knight to obey, and Joffrey looked up for a few seconds, and then Dog bent down, stretching the brunette's arm in front of Joffrey, and she looked at The Hound briefly, and Dog looked at her for a few seconds as Joffrey studied his dagger for a little while and then laughed, but Dog stood up, as if giving up and Joffrey looked up at the man, gritting his teeth. "Sir Meryn, my dog disobeys me. Hold the lady's arm."
"What's going on here? I can not believe that Joffrey, as opposed to welcoming our visitor, is acting like a spoiled child once again!" The loud voice echoed, and the young girl Baratheon looked where the sound came from. The owner of the voice that had such firmness was no more than six-and-a-half feet, walking with short, slightly crooked legs, and a little wavy, blond-brown hair. "Stand up, nephew if you do not want my hand to make a mark on your face again."
"I am the king!" Joffrey started up in a menacing tone, but Tyrion cut him off as if it were something normal.
"We've been through this, have not we? I have already proved to you that my hand does not fall for hitting a King."He said, still walking, and stood in front of Joffrey. The King looked at him, pursing his lips, while Tyrion extended his hand to the young woman, who retreated for a few seconds, but held your hand still standing, still looking at the ground but it was impossible at this point not to see the Dwarf.
Joffrey made a terrible frown and was shaking his head unsatisfied. He looked slowly to the sides, and looked down again at his uncle, and whispered:
"Whatever." He practically spat the words, looking up at the tall burned Knight. "Come, you're going to keep her like a good dog for me." He approached, and whispered something in Meryn Trant's ear and then the burned knight smiling just then, looking at everyone. "Dog, watch over her for me and make sure she does not flee, among others." He whispered to the tall man but continued to smile cruelly. "Go away, Dog will guide you." The man nodded, and put his hand on the girl's shoulder, leading her out of the hall. The walk would be slow and silent were it not for the noise of the heavy armor of the burned knight, with heavy steps.
The Dog stopped in front of a door, and in seconds a maid approached, bowing slightly, not looking at the Dog in fear. She opened the door and gave room for Lady Baratheon to pass. She looked vaguely at the Dog and looked down.
"The King has ordered that ... you shall spend the night here until she understands that she is his amusement ... I will bring you a more comfortable chair so you can rest and nap if you wish, Sir ..." She paused, not looking at him. "Dog." She whispered and he snarled a yes. He knew Joffrey just wanted to torture her with his presence and his face burned.
Maid entered the room, and silently bathed the young Baratheon, prepared her bed and laid her down, pretending to sleep. She disappeared into the corridors and soon returned with a large armchair, which the Dog did not even deign to help the poor thing. He threw himself there stripped so that his sword would not disturb him. He remained there all night, listening to the muffled whimper coming from the room which allowed him only brief naps.
The Dog slept in his chair and shuffled. He had not slept for more than an hour. His eyes were opened when maid called him as gently as he could. He opened his eyes and stared at her. She looked down, and just shook her head and slammed the door, waiting for no more than two minutes, and the door opened, and maid entered the room; It took a few seconds until footsteps echoed and the burned knight stared at the approaching dwarf.
"Sandor." Lord Tyrion greeted, and stood by the man's side, waiting for her to leave. "Sandor, what did Joffrey say to you?" He asked, leaning back against the wall, crossing his short arms. Sandor looked at him with his usual expression. The door swung open, and the maid passed quickly through them, disappearing down the hall. "Well, you do not have to watch her all the time," Tyrion suggested, and tapped his fingers on the open door and stepped in, looking very slowly, and looked at the young woman, sitting in the corner staring out the window. Tyrion cleared his throat, and she looked at him. "Forgive me, my lady for my meddling. I came to apologize for Joffrey. He acts as if he was less than ten years old, if wants to know." She looked at the window again, her eyes vacant. "I came to welcome you, too. And to say that you do not have to be shy, you can walk around, you are not our prisoner, you are our guest." She looked at him, and she could see Sandor standing at the door, but she did not look at his disfigured face, even though he was watching her. Her eyes were damp, and then she looked at the dwarf.
"And will he follow me wherever i goes, My Lord?" She asked in a frightened voice but politely and Tyrion looked at Sandor, and again at her, smiling a little embarrassed.
"Yes, this is your new-" "But he could not go on. The girl's low voice cut him off.
"So I'm a prisoner," she said quietly, looking down at the floor. "My King made it clear that he's here to watch over me, and to make sure I'm his only toy. " She said, her voice a little shaky. "I heard what Joffrey did to Sansa in no more than a month here." She looked back at the window.
"So you intend to stay in your quarters for the rest of your stay here which sadly is going to long ?" He said in a low but steady voice, looking at the floor and then at her.
"No, my Lord, not at all. " She said very politely, shy and in a whisper a little frightened, reluctant to go on, but tried to look strong, and failed horribly" I just say ... "She paused in fear, glancing at Dog, and all her courage was gone, making her fail ridiculously and fell silent. Rising very slowly, as if she were afraid and without aiming the fearful glance at Tyrion still less to Sandor, walked to the door, attentive to all that could be a danger. "Where would the Gardens be? I will not go to bed. I will pray." She said, still not looking at them
"Forgive me, Lady ... Hum ... Baratheon?"
"Clarie." She suggested in a low, polite voice after Tyrion gestured with her hand as if asking her how she would like to be called.
"Okay, pardon me, Lady Clarie. Your Protector. "He cleared his throat and went on "will escort you wherever you go. He knows Kings Landing almost as well as I do." Tyrion said as he stepped in front of her, he smiled crookedly, bending over. "Milady. " And he turned, crossing the corridor with his short legs. Then Sandor murmured something calling her, and began to walk, listening to her follow him.
The gardens carried a delicious breeze, but nothing made her smile or at least feel less distressed. They had destroyed her kingdom. The truth was that she did not want to be Lady of Storm's End and rule over the people who hated her. She wanted to be a Stark and after a while, to be Lady of a tall, handsome Lord, who would love her. Even though she was a Baratheon, she was a bastard and nobody made her forget it. She could have married this Lord if they had not destroyed her kingdom and eliminated all her chances of returning to her true home, Winterfell.
The dog continued to walk but Clarie sat on one of the several benches scattered around the gardens and then the man stopped and turned to the young woman, who watched the little bluebirds singing. He came back and stood in front of the brunette, startling some of the birds on the ground.
"We have not reached the Sacred Grove." He said in a hoarse voice, and she looked up at him but she could not look at the scars, looking once more at the man's iron boots.
"I will not pray, Sir, forgive me." She said cordially but in fear. The dog was extremely scary and made her feel like a poor sheep being watched by her predator. That look made her tremble with fear.
"I'm not Sir, girl." He said angrily, taking a step back, looking at the birds. She sighed, still afraid, and apprehensive. Joffrey's vassals passed by and saw her, and spoke words of anguish, or debauchery, perhaps of sorrow. He knew what he had done to Lady Sansa.
She did not know how long, she only knew it was noon when Lord Tyrion called her to the banquet which she politely refused, without looking away from the three birds still there and did not even notice when she held one of the small birds who had difficulties in flying and the Dog was already irritated, impatient. The hours rolled a little more, and she caught herself looking disgustingly at the scars. She laid the bird down on the floor again, closed her eyes, and the tears came down, when she finally decided that Joffrey would be as or worse to her that she had been with Sansa since, with recent questions about her blood, bastard Baratheon as he had earned the surname by royal decree of King Robert, now the kingdom questioned who was really the heir to the throne, and even with Stannis, and being only a bastard by the name of Baratheon, Joffrey hated her.
She opened her wet eyes and stared at the bird and heard Dog mutter something irritated and hit hard on a bench a little distance from the young woman. He seemed extremely irritated to be there, following her. She seemed to irritate him in every move, but in spite of everything, she liked that forest. It was beautiful. Not as much as she liked Winterfell, but it was beautiful. There were very green trees and very colorful flowers in contrast to a very blue sky and very white clouds.
"How long will you stay here?" He asked irritably, clapping his hand on the bench once more. "I'm tired of this fuck! I want to drink, and I'll drag you to the castles through your beautiful brown hair if you do not lift your pussy out of it." He growled, raising the tone of his voice in a menacing tone.
"Forgive me, Sir for making your stay here so long. I'll go inside the castle and rest." She said, her voice trembling and very low, like a whisper. She did not want to make him angry, deciding she would be in soon and lock himself in the bedroom. She was afraid of that man. Everyone had and he seemed annoyed by the inability of that little bird to fly. She was startled to hear the noise of the armor, brute, and walk there. The Hound stopped in front of the bird, and lifted his foot, and crushing it, leaving Clarie terrified, looking at the little girl with blood, her eyes wide and unresponsive.
"I'm not a fucking Sir." He said, his voice thick and husky. "You're very polite, Milady. "He was as ironic as he could be. "Like a little bird." He twisted his face, which could be classified as a cruel smile, but Clarie could not see. She did not just look at the red puddle, her mouth half open. "Small birds are easy to crush. The difference is that you have beautiful breasts. " He took a step back and waited a few seconds. "Will I have to carry you, Little Bird?" "He was among the worst men in the world; She was lost, knew that.
Her eyes were watery again and she was still trying to look strong. She got up and could almost see her falter and she would fall, but he held on, and she could hear the Dog laugh, echoing a sound that sounded like a metallic laugh, but she was not sure.
