Author's Note: Hello everybody! I am very happy to announce that my love and motivation for this story has returned full force. I cannot even begin to tell you how I excited I am by all the ideas that I have planned and I cannot wait for your reactions when you read it. I could not continue you to do this without your support, so I just want to say a huge 'thank you' to all my readers and reviewers out there! We're officially halfway through season 2 and we're almost at 500 reviews. You guys are amazing!

This chapter is unbeta'd so any mistakes are mine.

Happy Holidays, everyone! :)

Chapter 20: Descent into Madness

"Come," Lady Stark urged, putting a hand on the small of Maliya's back as she guided her away from their horses. "King Renly has agreed to meet with us before he begins to prepare for the coming battle."

"Do we have a strategy?" Maliya asked quietly as she hurried beside her good mother. "I mean, what's more important at this point? Do we need his army more or do we fight for Northern independence? Neither Renly nor Margaery want the North to secede from the Seven Kingdoms."

"Well, ideally we'd want to ally with his army while keeping our independence, but our negotiations will probably have to come to a compromise at some point." Her face looked troubled and her voice dropped as a group of soldiers jogged past. The entire camp was a bustle of activity as the men prepared for the battle. "It will just depend on who ends up making the bigger compromise."

Maliya nodded resolutely, squaring her shoulders just before they entered King Renly's tent. "Then let's make sure that it's not us."

The guards outside Renly's tent stepped aside as they approached and they entered to find him sitting behind his desk, sipping on a cup of wine. The tall blonde woman who had defeated Ser Loras was standing just behind him, her face impassive and her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "Please, sit," Renly smiled, gesturing to the chairs in front of the desk. Despite the fact that he would be fighting in a battle in just a few hours, Renly looked oddly pleased with himself. "Would either of you like some wine?"

"No, thank you," Lady Stark declined as they took their seats. She hesitated for a moment, as if she were deciding the best way to approach whatever was on her mind. "Is there nothing I can say to convince you to form an alliance with your brother instead of fighting against him? If we could combine our three armies, the Lannisters would stand no chance in defeating us."

"And when we win?" Renly asked, giving her a speculative look. "Who will sit the Iron Throne?"

"Robb and I have no wish to sit the Iron Throne," Maliya spoke up, lacing her fingers in her lap. "As I'm sure Queen Margaery has told you, when the war is over, we wish to return home to the North."

"So you'll leave Stannis and I to fight over it?"

"Your brother is the lawful heir," Lady Stark reminded him.

"While he lives," Renly added with a savage grin. "Though the crown would suit me better, wouldn't you agree? Robert was a drunken fool and Stannis… well, no one wants Stannis for their king." He sat back in his chair. "If my brother refuses to bend the knee, then he needs to be taught a lesson. The time for talk is done and now it is time for action."

Lady Stark nodded, looking disappointed. "I can see that your mind is made up. Have you thought more about our potential alliance, Your Grace?"

"I have," Renly acknowledged, raising his cup slightly as he turned to Maliya. "And I have to admit that knowing you and your husband have no interest in the Iron Throne has made this decision much easier. I see no reason why there should be any hostility between Stark and Baratheon. You may continue to call yourselves King and Queen in the North. You will have dominion over all lands north of Moat Cailin… provided you swear me an oath of fealty."

Maliya eyes narrowed infinitesimally as she hid her frown at his choice of words. Beside her, Lady Stark leaned forward intently. "What is the wording of this oath?"

"The same as eighteen years ago, when Robert and Ned won the Rebellin and took the throne. It was their friendship that held the kingdoms together after everything that the Mad King had done." Maliya started slightly upon hearing Renly casually mention her grandfather and hoped that no one noticed.

"With all due respect, Your Grace, it is not the same as eighteen years ago," Maliya pointed out, working to keep her voice pleasant and her tone patient. "Your brother was a King, but Lord Stark was only Warden of the North. What you are suggesting for Robb is an empty title. We would still be paying you taxes, we would still have to give you our men when you call and we would still technically be under your rule. That does not sound like independence to me."

For a moment, Renly's smile looked slightly fixed. To hide this, he placed his cup on the desk and stood. "And what would you suggest?"

"A partnership between two kings," Maliya proposed, her heart beginning to pound as she turned in her chair to face him. She could feel Lady Stark looking at her from the corner of her eye and she suddenly wished that she had run this idea by her earlier. "A friendship and an alliance but most importantly, an understanding. We rule the North, we create our own laws and we swear fealty to no one."

Although Maliya got the feeling that Renly wasn't keen on the idea, he kept a thoughtful look on his face as Brienne finished removing the golden armor he had worn to meet with his brother. "It sounds to me like you would be gaining a kingdom and I would be losing one. Tell me, how exactly would this benefit me?"

"Well, for one thing…" Maliya trailed off, frowning as the entrance to the tent suddenly flew open, blowing out several of the candles. She shivered slightly as a cold chill danced down her spine, an odd feeling coming over her that she couldn't quite explain. Her eyes flicked around in confusion but when she didn't see anything, she shook her head and looked back towards Renly. "The alliance between the Starks and the Baratheons would – I – " Her eyes narrowed, her head tilting to the side as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Renly's shadow, which was flickering across the floor in the candlelight, seemed to almost rise from the ground, materializing behind him as a sort of shadowy substance. She had half a second to realize that the shadow reflected in the mirror looked slightly familiar before she recognized the sword in its hands. Eyes widening, both she and Lady Stark leapt to their feet. "Look out - !" She shouted, entirely too late, as the shadow plunged the sword through Renly's back, spearing him through the heart.

"NO!" Brienne let out an anguished scream, a horrified expression on her face as she rushed forward to catch Renly as he fell to his knees. She laid him on the ground, her hands hovering above his chest, looking for some way to help him, but Maliya knew it was useless. Renly's slightly confused gaze was staring unseeingly at the top of the tent, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

Meanwhile, the shadow had vanished, dissolving and dispersing into the darkest corners of the tent. For a long moment, the only sound that could be heard was Brienne's sobs. Maliya was frozen, staring down at Renly's body in disbelief. She only snapped out of her trance-like state when two guards burst into the tent at the sound of Brienne's screams, swords drawn. The guards looked from Renly's body to Brienne's form hunched over it. "You'll die for this," the bigger guard growled, raising his sword above his head and charging her.

"No, stop, she didn't do it!" Lady Stark tried to tell them, but they paid her no heed.

Even in the midst of her grief, Brienne's instincts still kicked in. In one motion, she stood and pulled her sword free in order to block the guards attack. Maliya blinked rapidly, trying to focus to break through her shock at the dark magic that she had just witnessed. Loud clashes of steel against steel rang through the tent as Brienne took on the two guards. Maliya was once again impressed with the tall woman's skills as she quickly parried the first guards blows before shoving him away from her. She turned to face the second soldier as the first fell into the tall candlestick, knocking it over. Bright orange flames began to creep their way up the wall of the tent and across the carpet. They watched as Brienne quickly defeated both guards.

Lady Stark was suddenly gripping her arm, startling her so badly she jumped. "Quickly, we need to leave! All of us!" They both looked towards Brienne who had fallen to her knees again besides Renly, sobbing once more. "Brienne, we cannot stay, they will hang you for this!"

Brienne's blue eyes flashed angry as she glared up at her. "I am not leaving him – "

Lady Stark's face was set. "You won't be able to avenge him if you're dead," she told her in a hard, unforgiving voice. "Reinforcements will be coming at any moment. They will not believe the truth, all they know is that their King is dead and we were the only ones with him."

"She's right," Maliya agreed, finally beginning to come back to reality. "We need to go."

"Not that way," Brienne spoke up, as Maliya headed for the entrance to the tent. She stood and sheathed her sword, no longer crying though she did nothing to wipe the tears from her face. "We'll slip out the back."

"Do not run or do anything else that will draw attention to ourselves," Lady Stark muttered under her breath before they slipped out into the night. Maliya held her breath as they casually strolled away, trying not to appear too noticeable as her eyes flickered to each of Renly's men as they passed by.

They barely made it five hundred yards before shouts began to come from Renly's tent. "The King! The King is dead!"

"Do not look back," Lady Stark hissed, grabbing Maliya's arm once more as the camp suddenly erupted into chaos. Soldiers were bursting out of their tents, grabbing their weapons and hurrying to put on their armor as they rushed around in every direction. Men were shouting for water to put out the fire in the tent, which was now completely engulfed and pulled almost every soldier's attention. "We need to meet up with our men and find our horses – "

At that point, Maliya's eyes widened and her steps faltered. Her bag! She had left the bag containing her most prized possessions hidden back in her tent. She would have to go back for it, there was no way she could leave it behind for anyone to find. The poison from Tyene, the letter from Ned Stark and her egg…. they were hers and no one could know about them. She had even left her sword back in her tent because Lady Stark hadn't thought it appropriate to bring to the meeting with Stannis and Renly.

Her mind was racing. She couldn't tell Lady Stark or Brienne that she had to go back for her things because that would raise too many questions that she just couldn't answer. There was no other option – she would have to slip away unnoticed. Luckily, her opportunity came almost immediately.

"What do you mean he's dead?" Loras Tyrell roared, grabbing a guard's neck with one hand and yanking him close. "What happened? And where in the seven hells were you?"

The guard's face was white. "I – my lord, I – we're not sure – "

Maliya heard Lady Stark gasp under her breath as Loras gave a savage shout and thrust his sword through the guard. Filing away Loras' out of control reaction away for later inspection, Maliya used Lady Stark and Brienne's distraction to her advantage and silently slipped down the next row of tents. Although every instinct in her body was screaming at her to pick up her skirts and run, she forced herself to remain calm, sticking to the shadows and making every effort not to draw attention to herself.

She had to make her way back towards the center of camp in order to find her tent. None of Robb's remaining guards were around, which meant they had to still be by their horses. Once she entered her tent, she began to hurry, not liking the tone of the soldier's shouts. She took off her crown because she didn't want to draw attention to herself, added it to her bag and double checked to make sure everything was in there. Then she belted on her sword, fastened her cloak on over her dress, picked up her bag and hurried back outside.

Someone grabbed her arm as soon as she stepped out of the tent, making her gasp and whirl around with one hand shooting to the hilt of her sword. Brienne stood there, towering over her. "Gods be good, Brienne, don't scare me like that!"

Brienne's blue eyes drifted down to Maliya's sword and her expression became unreadable. "Lady Stark was worried when you disappeared and I volunteered to come find you. You shouldn't wander off on your own, Your Grace, it isn't safe."

"I had some valuable things that I couldn't leave behind," Maliya told her breezily, not wanting her to ask any further questions. "Now come on, we cannot stay here any longer. Especially you, Lady Brienne. Soon enough, the entire camp will be searching for us."

They started hurrying off in the direction that they came. "Please, just call me Brienne," the taller woman corrected in a low, uncomfortable voice. "I am no lady."

Maliya glanced up at her face, but it was half hidden in the darkness of the night. "If that is what you wish," she murmured after a moment. She looked forward again and stopped short, her hand shooting out to grab Brienne's arm. "Shit," she swore under her breath, praying that the group of guards that just passed wouldn't look their way. She watched, barely breathing as they stopped to talk to another group of guards. "We'll have to go a different way."

"But Lady Stark is at the other end of camp, Your Grace, with your Northern guards and our horses – "

"We'll meet up with them once we get out of here," Maliya answered, glancing over her shoulder as they picked up their pace. "Hurry."

They had almost made it to the edge of the camp, had almost successfully escaped into the forest when three soldiers on patrol duty suddenly rounded the corner and stopped in front of them, face to face. "Hey! You! Murderer!" One of the guards cried intelligently, pointing wildly at Brienne. The guards and Brienne drew their swords at the same time.

Maliya took a step forward, her left arm raised in front of her and the other grasping the hilt of her sword. "Put your swords away," she ordered in a firm voice, drawing herself up. "This woman did not kill your king."

"Then is this your confession, Your Grace?" The guard sneered. "They're saying that the last ones to see the king alive are you and Lady Stark."

"Watch your tone," Brienne warned, raising her sword a bit higher. "You're speaking to a queen."

"Traitor! You were part of his Rainbow Guard," the other guard spoke up, sounding angry. "Why did you kill him?"

Brienne looked both offended and disgusted at his words. "I would never hurt him," she snapped, blue eyes flashing.

"I told you already, it wasn't her," Maliya interjected, frustration beginning to creep into her voice. They didn't have time for this - at any moment more guards could appear. Both she and Brienne were skilled fighters, but if they were outnumbered, they could either be captured or killed. "There was a dark shadow that appeared out of nowhere – "

As she was saying it out loud she realized how insane it sounded and apparently the guard thought so as well. "A shadow?" He repeated, eyebrows narrowing. "You dare make up some ridiculous lie about sorcery? Lay your weapons on the ground and make no sudden moves. The Tyrells will want a word with you."

"I'm afraid that will not be possible," Maliya answered with a heavy sigh. "We must be on our way."

"That will not be happening," the guard responded and there was a brief moment of silence in which everyone tensed and prepared for what was going to happen next.

"Stay back, Your Grace," Brienne commanded in a low voice, glancing over at her as she stepped in front of her protectively. "I'll take care of them."

Maliya's right eyebrow slowly raised and she had just opened her mouth to argue that she was perfectly capable of protecting herself when the guards lunged forward and the fight began. The first guard slashed downwards with his sword and Brienne blocked it, shoving his sword arm to the side and punching him in the face so that he staggered backwards. She turned to deal with the other guard and began to parry back and forth with him.

Maliya worriedly looked over her shoulder as the sound of the swords rang through the night. If they didn't end this quickly someone would hear them and come to investigate. This needed to end, now. Brienne finished off the second guard and was fighting the third when the first one approached her from behind, a snarl on his face as he raised his sword above his head with both hands.

Thinking quickly, Maliya dropped her bag to the floor, pulling her sword free as she moved forward to intercept him. Her arms reverberated with the strength of his blow and she had to grit her teeth. The guard's eyes widened and she used his brief moment of shock to her advantage as she brought her leg back and kicked between his widened legs as hard as she could. The guard let out a noise that sounded like a combination of a yelp and a groan, his grip on his sword loosening as he automatically hunched over in pain.

The guards' eyes were watering as Maliya easily disarmed him, knocking him on his back and plunging her sword into his neck just as Brienne finished off her opponent. Brienne's blue eyes flickered from her to the man choking on his own blood and she looked stunned. "I – thank you," she awkwardly said, realizing what could have possibly happened.

"The first thing you should know about me is that I am not some helpless queen," Maliya told her lightly, crouching down to wipe her blade on the grass. "I don't carry this sword around as a decoration, Brienne. You're not the only woman in Westeros who knows how to fight."

"I am glad to know it," Brienne said, giving her a nod. "We need to find two horses and then we need to go before others arrive. Lady Stark told me to get you to safety no matter the cost, even if that means bringing you back to King Robb myself."

"Alright." Maliya retrieved her bag and swung it over her shoulder. "I have an absolute terrible sense of direction and have no idea which way to go. After you," Maliya gestured, waving her on and pulling up the the hood of her cloak as they ran off into the night.

They had been riding hard for three days now, as fast as these less than impressive horses could go. They couldn't run nearly as far as Shadow could and Maliya hoped that he was safe with Lady Stark. During their journey, Maliya learned that Brienne of Tarth was a woman of very few words. Each day she tried to engage her in conversation, but she only managed to get a few terse words out of her.

They had hoped to meet up with Lady Stark and the other guards along the way back towards Robb's camp, but they had yet to come across them. Actually, they had met very few people along the way so far. Maliya spotted a few surviving people as they rode past the destroyed and ransacked villages. When they saw them, they hid in what remained of their homes, peering out at them with wide, frightened eyes.

"Where did you learn to fight, Brienne?" Maliya asked, looking over at her. They had slowed their horses down to a walk again in order to give them yet another break. Maliya didn't consider herself a talkative person, but the hours seemed to crawl by so slowly that she felt as if she were going mad.

"My father taught me, Your Grace."

"Did he?" Maliya's eyebrows rose in surprise. "My father was against my training for years – in fact I'm pretty sure he's still against it."

"He didn't want to train me," Brienne told her. She was staring straight ahead, but Maliya could have sworn she saw her face soften as she spoke of her father. "He wanted me to be a lady, but when I kept getting into fights and losing, he pulled me aside and said, 'If you're going to fight, you might as well do it right.'"

A small smile played on Maliya's lips. "He sounds like a good man."

"He is." She was quiet again and Maliya had resigned herself to another couple hours of silence when she actually asked a question of her own. "How did you learn to fight? You were a Princess of Dorne before you were a queen. I haven't heard of many princesses who could fight."

"My uncle taught me," Maliya answered, feeling pleased that she was reciprocating in the conversation. Brienne of Tarth was an enigma and Maliya found herself wanting to understand her. She was adamant that she wasn't a lady and yet she is the only child and heir of House Tarth. She certainly didn't look like a lady with her tall, muscular body, crooked teeth and bent nose. She dressed and acted like a soldier, spoke only when spoken to and was reluctant to open up. Maliya was nothing if not determined. "He had trained each of his daughters to fight since they were young, and I found myself wanting to learn alongside them instead of being taught by our septa." She glanced over at Brienne again. "Dorne is slightly more… relaxed in our customs. Daughters are given the same equal inheritance as sons. Views on sex and sexuality are looser and celebrated quite freely. We have paramours, bastards are publicly claimed and women are allowed to fight. Since moving north, almost everyone I meet is appalled by the fact that I can fight and I just want to say that I understand – "

"Look," Brienne suddenly interrupted, pointing up ahead. Maliya broke off, looking above the treetops to see a thin plume of black smoke rising up in the air, not too far away. "There must be trouble up ahead. We'll have to go around."

"Go around?" Maliya repeated with a frown. "But what if someone's in trouble?"

She recognized that stubborn glint in Brienne's eyes all too well. She had seen the expression on her husband's face more often than not. "Your Grace, Lady Stark trusted me to escort you back to King Robb if we should fail to meet up with her. Knowingly putting you in harms way will completely defeat that purpose."

"I appreciate your concern, but I – " She froze as a women's terrified scream pierced the air. "Someone's in danger!" Without waiting for Brienne's response, Maliya pushed her heels into her horses' side and galloped forward in the direction of the scream.

When she was still a safe distance away, she pulled it to a stop and slipped off the saddle, tying the reins to a nearby tree. She left her bag where it was but pulled her sword free, sensing danger ahead. "Your Grace," Brienne hissed in a low voice, following her as she approached through the trees. Maliya didn't answer or turn to look at her, just held up a hand, signaling her to be quiet as they crouched behind some bushes so they could see what was going on.

A very small village came into view through the trees. One of the small, decrepit huts was aflame and the small clearing was littered with broken pieces of wood and tools. Maliya's eyes trailed over the ground, where several bodies were strewn across the ground, most of them men and all of them bloody and broken.

"Mama! Mama!"

"Please, please don't hurt my daughter!" Maliya looked to the far edge of the village to see armed men dressed in black. Even without examining them for too long, Maliya could sense that these men were cruel and dangerous. Three of them had their swords out, surrounding a small group of women huddled together on their knees, cowering in fear with tears streaming down their faces. One of the younger women was trying to rise to her feet, to get to a young girl who was being held back by another man.

"Be quiet," one of the men snarled, raising his hand and backhanding the yelling woman across the face. "Stop yer crying!" Out of the corner of her eye, Maliya could see Brienne's fists clench tightly as the woman cried out in pain.

"Oi, Lorch!" One of the other men shouted, a wicked grin spread across his face. "You gunna come and pick one of these women? We deserve a reward after helping those uptight gold cloaks find that band of recruits and that royal bastard."

Maliya's body flashed hot then cold as a tall, cruel looking man with a receding hairline and a beard came around the corner of a house. He was dragging yet another crying woman by the arm. "Caught this one trying to escape," he grinned triumphantly, shaking her slightly. "I'm gunna take my prize with me. You all know what to do."

"This village was a waste of time," one of the other men complained, looking around in disgust as Lorch dragged the woman into one of the houses. "There's nothing of value here and the women aren't even decent looking."

"I don't know, Weaver. This one's not so bad," a shorter, bald man said, running a finger down one of the younger woman's cheek and making her shrink back in fear.

Lorch. Fucking Amory Lorchwas right in front of her, not even one hundred yards away. Maliya's vision began turn red she was staring at the house where he disappeared so hard. She forgot everything – she forgot about Robb and the rest of the Starks, she forgot that she was Queen in the North – all she knew was she was Rhaenys and this man killed a girl that he thought was her and helped with the downfall of her family. There was no way she could let him go without making him pay for what he'd done.

"We need to help them," Maliya muttered under her breath to Brienne without glancing over at her.

Maliya could practically feel the disapproval radiating off the taller woman. "Your Grace, I told Lady Catelyn– "

Seven hells, this woman takes her word seriously. Maliya's head snapped around to face her, brown eyes flashing as her anger flared. "We cannot just walk away and let these woman be raped and then killed! I cannot have that on my conscience knowing that I could have done something. There's only six men, three for you and three for me. We have the element of surprise and thus we have the upper hand."

Maliya wasn't quite sure what her face looked like – her body was practically vibrating with fury and her overwhelming need for revenge – but Brienne stared at her for a long time. "And if I say no?" She asked after a moment, sounding like she knew what the answer was going to be.

She glanced over to see all the men comparing each of the women and dividing them amongst themselves. Maliya gritted her teeth. "I will go by myself. I can't just sit here and do nothing, we have to act now! Would you be able to live with yourself knowing that these women and children will be raped and killed?" She asked, hoping that the added guilt will sway Brienne's decision.

She gave her a look as if she knew exactly what Maliya was doing. "Alright, but you have to do exactly as I say. Now, listen closely."

Speaking quickly, Brienne relayed her plan to Maliya and they split up. Still crouched low behind the foliage and the trees, Maliya jogged around the right side of the village coming up around the row of small houses on that side. She could see Brienne creeping around the other side, both of them focused on the four men surrounding the group of terrified women huddled together. The fifth man was still holding the little girl and the last man was Lorch, who was three houses down doing only the Stranger knew what to that poor woman. They needed to move fast.

Maliya tensed, waiting, and as soon as she saw Brienne's signal she leapt forward into action. She didn't know if it was because of all the adrenaline in her body or because she was so close to getting part of the revenge that she had been hungering for for over a decade, but everything for Maliya seemed to move in slow motion. She could feel her heart pumping in her chest and could feel all her muscles tensing as she quickly and silently sprinted the few yards across the clearing.

Maliya reached the men just seconds before Brienne attacked from the other side. The men must have noticed the women's shocked expressions as they caught sight of her, because they were in the process of turning around when Maliya and Brienne fell on them. Maliya easily disarmed the first man, ducking his wild punch and slashing her sword across his throat.

The second man, much bigger and larger than the first, let out out an enraged roar and lifted his own sword and initiated the first attack. Maliya had to backtrack several steps, unprepared for the violent onslaught as she attempted to block his advances. A few of the women screamed in fear as Brienne and the man she was fighting with got close to them, breaking Maliya's concentration as her eyes flickered over. She realized too late that she broke one of Uncle Oberyn's most important rules – never lose focus. She managed to throw up her sword to clash against his at the last minute, but didn't see his flying elbow until it slammed into the side of her head. She stumbled sideways as pain exploded in her temple and her vision tilted, causing her to crash to the ground, off-balance. Seven hells.

The tall man loomed over her, a cruel, triumphant grin on his face as he raised his sword. Just as it was about to swing down, Brienne let out a loud yell and Maliya's eyes widened as her sword suddenly sprouted from his chest. When she pulled it back out, the man finger's scrabbled at the blood pouring down the wound as he let out a pained gurgle and collapsed on the ground.

"Thanks," Maliya gasped, blinking rapidly to clear her vision as she grabbed Brienne's offered hand and allowed her to pull her to her feet.

"Now we're even," Brienne answered as Maliya quickly took stock of their surroundings, ignoring the throbbing in her head. Four of the men were lying on the ground either dead or dying and the women were still kneeling on the floor in terror.

"Go, quickly!" Maliya urged them hurriedly, wanting them to leave before they are put in even more harm's way. Almost all of the women ran off at once, except for a younger woman with dark brown hair.

"My daughter, please, he's taking my daughter!" She pleaded, pointing over their shoulders. Maliya and Brienne turned to see the other man with one hand clasped over the little girl's mouth, the other wrapped around her waist as he pulled her away. Tears were streaming down the girl's face, but she couldn't struggle because of the dagger pressed against her throat.

At the same time, the sound of struggling and a scream came from the house where Lorch disappeared.

"You get the girl and I'll help the other woman!" Maliya ordered quickly, tightening her grip on her sword as she ran off again without waiting for Brienne's reponse.

Her revenge was so close she could practically taste it. She threw open the door to the house so hard that it bounced off the wall behind it. "Get off her," Maliya growled, disgust on her face and fire practically spitting from her eyes. Lorch was straddling the poor woman, holding her hands above her head, the top of her dress undone so her breasts were nearly spilling out.

Lorch's head snapped up from the woman's neck when the door opened. "What in the seven hells – " he spat, eyes widening slightly when he saw the bloody sword in her hand. He had been so caught up in what he was doing that he must not have heard the commotion outside.

He lunged off to the side for his sword as Maliya started across the room towards him, face set with determination. He rolled onto his back, sword in front of him just in time to block Maliya's strike. They barely noticed as the woman escaped out of the house as soon as she was able to, holding her dress together. Lorch kicked out at Maliya, catching her in the thigh and knocking her back several steps.

Maliya attacked once more as soon as she caught her balance but Lorch had already used that time to spring to his feet and he was ready for her. They exchanged a flurry of blows and parries. Maliya had never experienced such laser focus before. She examined Lorch's fighting style and was able to quickly realize that his movements were crude and he relied heavily on his strength. She was obviously more skilled with a blade and that sent a surge of confidence through her.

Keep your movements as fluid as water in a stream. Always keep every one of your senses open. Wait for your opening – as soon as you see one, punish them for their mistake.

All of her Uncle's teachings flowed through her mind as she fought Lorch. Her first opportunity came relatively quickly. Lorch made an attempt to chop off her head and Maliya capitalized. She ducked under his wild swing, pivoting around his body as she sliced across his thigh.

"One," Maliya announced as Lorch grunted, his leg buckling slightly. A snarl on his face, Lorch kept swinging at her and Maliya kept dancing around his blade, stepping in close to attack before moving away. "Two." A cut across his shoulder. "Three." She stabbed him in the side. "Four." She aimed for his face but he jerked to the side and she only cut across his cheek.

Their swords met once more and Lorch grabbed her wrist in anger and frustration. "Why the fuck are you counting, you stupid cunt?" He roared, spewing spittle in her face.

"I'm not surprised you don't recognize me," Maliya hissed through narrowed eyes. "All of Westeros thinks that I'm dead and you're the one who killed me." She continued on when he looked confused, pushing her sword back against his in her anger. "Rhaenys Targaryen. Does the name sound familiar? Rumor has it, you stabbed and cut that three year old girl more than fifty times, until she was nearly unrecognizable - "

"She deserved it!" He barked, shoving her back several steps, his wrist still incased in his free hand. "That little bitch kicked me when I pulled her out from her father's bed and she wouldn't stop screaming!"

Her anger only continued to grow until she felt like it was going to consume her alive. "That little girl was not Rhaenys Targaryen," she informed him, her mind automatically picturing the room and the bed as he spoke. For the first time since the incident, a new memory surfaced in her mind's eye, one of a bald man kneeling in front of her, dressed in a brown cloak. She immediately pushed it away and forced herself to focus, promising herself that she could ponder who the man was at length once Lorch was lying dead at her feet. "That poor girl just looked like me so that someone could help me escape. I am Rhaenys Targaryen," she whispered to him, relishing the expression of shock on his face. "And I am going to kill you for helping to destroy my family."

With that said, Maliya brought up her right leg and kicked him hard in the chest. His grip on her wrist loosened and she pulled free. Lorch staggered back and slammed into one of the walls of the house, his arms out at his sides as he tried to regain his balance. Gritting her teeth, Maliya swiftly brought her sword up over her head and brought it down over his sword arm, severing it just below the elbow. Lorch screamed, cradling what remained of his arm to his chest as his hand, which still held his sword, fell to the floor.

Without missing beat, Maliya crouched to the floor and spun, sweeping the legs out from under Lorch and causing him to crash onto his back. She was on him in a moment, easily overpowering him in his weak, pained state. She dropped her bloody sword on the ground and reached under her dress for the dagger attached to the thigh holster.

"Five," she whispered, stabbing him in the chest. "Six." Lorch was gasping in pain, fear in his eyes. Maliya leaned over him, her dagger pressed to her throat. "Who gave you the order to kill me?" She demanded in a threatening voice. "Tell me! Who was it?"

Lorch's throat gurgled as he struggled to speak, making several attempts to form words. His voice was so faint that Maliya had to lean even closer to hear him. Even though she had a hard time understanding what he was saying, she did catch one word very clearly. "….Lannister."

She snapped, pulling back her arm once more. Her emotions were swirling violently inside of her as everything that she tried so hard to bury deep inside her came to the surface. Her fury at Tywin Lannister for ordering the assassination of her family, her fury at her father for kidnapping or running away with that Stark girl and causing this entire mess, her overwhelming sadness that she would never see her parents again, the injustice of her brother's murder - all of her feelings about her lost family came into play. Instead of shying away from the pain as she usually did, she accepted it, allowed it to fuel her unstoppable rage.

She lost herself at this moment, dimly aware that the light had long since faded from Lorch's eyes and yet still she continued to count.

"Your Grace!" A horrified voice shouted and a hand grasped her right arm, stopping her movements just as she was about to bring the dagger down again. With a snarl of rage, Maliya reacted on instinct, her other hand coming up and punching her attacker in the face. Her head snapped to the side but she didn't release her grip, just caught Maliya's left hand in hers as well. "He's dead, Your Grace, you've killed him! It's over."

Maliya blinked at her words, her rage fading and she realized that it was Brienne who she had hit. Brienne let go of her when she saw the recognition in her eyes and helped Maliya stagger to her feet. Suddenly feeling exhausted, Maliya looked down at Lorch's body. Both triumph and disgust battled within her when she saw what she had done. His chest was a mangled mess, blood streaming from the dozens of wounds and pooling across the floor. She could see his insides and his bones sticking out and even though she wanted to look away, she found that she couldn't. Blood was still dripping from the dagger in her hand and out of the corner of her eye she could see it splattered on her arms and up the front of her dress. The darkest parts of herself had made itself known once again and Maliya felt slightly sick.

The Targaryen Madness, Lord Tyrion's voice whispered in her ear. It's said that the gods flip a coin everytime a Targaryen is born to determine if he or she will have the madness.

It was one of her deepest, darkest fears come true – she had lost herself to the rage and had gone mad for the briefest of moments.

She could feel Brienne silently staring at her and Maliya averted her gaze, not wanting to see the horror, judgement, or accusation in the other woman's eyes. She could feel her left hand shaking slightly and she clenched it into a fist, clearing her throat. "Come on, we should be going. We need to meet up with Lady Stark."

"Your Grace – "

"I can't – " Maliya began to snap before she paused and took a deep breath, not wanting to lose control and get angry again. "I don't want to talk about it right now, Brienne, okay? I just… I can't."

Brienne was silent for another long moment before nodding and such a strong wave of relief swept through Maliya that she swayed slightly on her feet. "Here, Your Grace," Brienne murmured, hesitantly stepping over to her. She helped her take off her soiled cloak before unclasping her own and draping it across her shoulders. The cloak nearly engulfed her but Maliya accepted it gratefully, clutching it to her body to hide the sight of the blood. "I'll clean your blades," Brienne said. She picked up Maliya's sword from the ground and gently pried the dagger out of her stiff fingers. Maliya realized she probably didn't want her to have a weapon in her current state, but did found she didn't care. "Why don't you go find our horses and bring them here?"

Maliya nodded and stepped outside, pausing a moment to inhale a deep breath of fresh air. The women and the girl were nowhere in sight and Maliya hoped that they would be safe. She gingerly stepped over the bodies littered across the floor and headed to the small patch of trees and bushes where their horses were tied.

She untied their reins after making sure their things were still there and headed back to Brienne. Maliya wordlessly accepted her newly cleaned weapons, slipping her sword into the sheath and her dagger back under her dress.

They both swung up onto their horses and continued on their way, Brienne leading and Maliya following silently behind her. Although she appeared calm on the outside, her head was pounding and she couldn't help wondering if every time she grew angry it was helping her descened further and further into the madness.

"Your Grace." Maliya looked up at the sound of Brienne's voice to see that the blond woman was standing beside her own horse, looking up at her. "We've finally caught up to Lady Stark."

Maliya looked around in mild surprise to see that there were half a dozen tents set up next to a small stream. She recognized several of the Stark's guards beginning to set up tent and light a small fire. The tight knot in her chest loosened when she saw Shadow grazing with the other horses and she had to remember to thank Lady Stark for taking him with her.

"Oh, Maliya," Lady Stark cried in relief, hurrying over with Ser Wendel. "Oh, we're so glad that you're safe, we were so worried!"

Ser Wendel looked even more relieved if that was possible. His large shoulders practically sagged as a smile lit his face. "It is good to see you, Your Grace. Our King would have strung us up by our ankles if anything bad had happened to you."

Maliya couldn't help the small smile that played on the edges of her lips when she saw the obvious concern for her in their eyes. "I'm happy to see the both of you as well," she murmured. "You needn't have worried, Brienne did a wonderful job of keeping me safe."

"I'll fix you something to eat," Ser Wendel told her, grinning at her once more before striding off.

Feeling incredibly stiff, Maliya swung done off the horse. Lady Stark gasped as the movement caused Brienne's cloak to slide off her shoulders slightly, her bloody dress coming into plain view for a moment. Maliya's eyes snapped up to Lady Stark's alarmed blue ones and she quickly stepped closer to her, dropping her voice so they wouldn't be overhead. "I'm alright," Maliya whispered her quickly. "Let's talk in your tent." Looking worried once more, Lady Stark nodded quickly and Maliya untied her bag to bring along with her. "Come on Brienne, you deserve an explanation as well."

Lady Stark wasted no time. As soon as they were in the tent and away from listening ears, she rounded on Maliya and began to spit out one question after another. "What happened? Why are you covered in blood? Are you sure you're alright? Did you run into trouble on the way back?"

"I'm alright, my lady," Maliya reassured her again, trying to put on a bright expression to prove her point as she sat in an empty seat, placing her bag down beside her. "The blood is not mine. Yesterday we came across a small village that was under attack. Most of the villagers were already dead, but the men who attacked them had a small group of women hostage as well as a little girl. They were about to rape and kill them, my lady, I couldn't just walk away and let them be harmed."

Lady Stark looked both exasperated and frustrated. "What did you do, Maliya?" She asked in a hard voice.

Maliya inwardly winced at her tone, immediately knowing that Lady Stark was not going to agree with her actions. Lifting her chin slightly, she continued. "I convinced Brienne to help me free them. Those men won't be harming anyone else."

If Lady Stark wasn't such a lady, Maliya was almost positive her jaw would have dropped. "You attacked them?" She asked in an incredulous voice, her face turning pale. "Of all the ridiculous, irresponsible – I understand that you are skilled with a blade, Maliya, but those were obviously dangerous men and there were only two of you! You are not some unattached warrior that can ride throughout Westeros freeing people in danger. Not only is Westeros in the middle of a war, but you are Queen in the North. Your life is no longer your own, it belongs to your people."

Maliya's eyes narrowed. "How could I live with myself knowing that those women were killed when I could have done something to help them?"

"Your impulsive and your reckless, Maliya, and one of these days your actions could have serious consequences," Lady Stark lectured as if she were one of her children.

"I'm afraid I can't apologize for my actions, my lady," Maliya admitted, crossing her arms around her stomach. "Amory Lorch was one of those men." Brienne looked bewildered, but Lady Stark frowned as if she had heard the name somewhere before. "He's the man who killed my cousin, Rhaenys Targaryen. He stabbed that poor girl dozens of times and I couldn't just let him hurt someone else. We fought and I won. It got a little messy, but just before he died, I asked him who gave the order to hurt my Aunt Elia and her children. He said the name, 'Lannister'."

Lady Stark's expression was grim. "The Lannisters have a lot to answer for," she murmured in a grave voice. "It was always suspected that Tywin Lannister gave the order, but nobody had any proof. And now, we still don't. Listen, Maliya, I know how outspoken Lord Oberyn is about his desire for revenge, but you cannot be so reckless with your life." She walked over to Maliya and crouched down in front of her, taking her hands in hers as she looked up at her with a pleading expression. "The Lannisters deserve what is coming to them and I completely understand and share your need for revenge against them. But you need to be smart about your actions. One simple mistake and you could die. Promise me that the next time something like this happens you won't put your life at such risk."

"I promise," Maliya responded soberly. She glanced up at Brienne, who was watching them both and hadn't said a word this entire time. "I'm sorry that I wasn't completely honest with you. I really wanted to rescue those women, but I was afraid that if I told you about Lorch you wouldn't help me."

Brienne reddened, looking slightly flustered as they both turned to look at her. "It's alright, I – I understand," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "I…. I'll go check the horses."

Lady Stark turned back to her as Brienne left. "Come on," she said in a gentle voice, helping Maliya to her feet. "Let's get you cleaned up. We're only half of a days ride away from Robb's camp."

Maliya's throat burned as Lady Stark took care of her as only a mother could. Having never had a mother figure in her life, this was a completely different experience for her. Combine that with her experience of the past day and her emotions were as fragile as the glass gardens at Winterfell. Swallowing her tears, Maliya gratefully leaned on Lady Stark both physically and emotionally. Instead of focusing on everything that happened, she instead brought up images of Robb and chose to focus on that instead.

Only one more day and she would finally be home.

Author's Note: Well, there you have it! Maliya finally got part of the revenge that she has been working for, but at what cost? What do you guys think? Was Maliya wrong to convince Brienne to help her? Should she have surpassed the village altogether because she is a Queen and she shouldn't put her life at risk unnecessarily? Although I have to admit, I quite liked writing Brienne and Maliya fighting together, both of them are bad-ass women!

Next chapter: A whole bunch of reunions, Maliya makes an incredibly important decision, a glimpse of Winterfell, and an attack in the night.

Don't forget to review :)

Marvelmyra: Thank you for your reviews! I appreciate your help!

Guest 1: I'm glad you liked the chapter, thanks for leaving a review! Don't worry, the egg and the letter will explain itself soon. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

Guest 2: Thanks for reviewing, here's the new chapter!

Howland Reed: You, my friend, are very clever!

Guest 3: Cat would certainly have an interesting reaction to Ned Stark's letter! What do you think she would do if she found out he wrote it to Maliya instead of her? The reunions are coming next chapter. Thanks for your review!

Charlie: I'm glad you're liking the story so far :) There's much more to come!