Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, I loved reading your responses! I don't really have much to say except that I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 22: Downward Spiral
"Good morning, Uncle Oberyn," Maliya greeted, rising from the chair and walking over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks for agreeing to break your fast with me. It's been a week now, has there been any news?"
"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Uncle Oberyn grumbled, following her to the table that she had set up in her tent and taking a seat. "Robb, his other bannermen and I have scoured the camp, but no one recognized the assassin or knows how those two guards died. It's infuriating!" He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he looked at her. "You know, maybe you and Robb should sleep in separate tents, just until we can figure out who is behind the assassination attempt. This way, I'll know you'll be safe – "
Maliya laughed, spooning oatmeal and fruit onto her plate. "Don't be absurd, uncle, I can't sleep apart from my husband! 'Our souls are bound as one for eternity', or something like that, right? I can't just abandon him because the Lannisters have sent an assassin after him."
"So you think it's the Lannisters as well?" He asked, pouring himself a glass of wine.
Maliya shrugged. "Who else would it be? Robb is waging war against them – he's holding the Kingslayer prisoner, he just destroyed their new army, he captured Ashemark, and the Greatjon captured the gold mines at Castamere, Nunn's Deep and Pendric Hills. Robb is pillaging his home and Tywin Lannister is furious." Maliya knew her uncle well enough to see the worry lurking behind his dark eyes. She gave him a small smile, reaching across the table and placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "You do not need to worry about me. Robb has created a rotating schedule of his most trusted guards and I'm almost positive that he's instructed Dacey Mormont to follow me about the camp. It would be quite annoying if I didn't understand how overprotective he is and that he is only trying to keep me safe."
"We worry about you, your father and I," Uncle Oberyn told her unapologetically, patting her hand before she withdrew it. "It is why Tyene and I are here and it is why Doran has sent five thousand men." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes alight. "There is something you must know, Maliya, something I couldn't mention in front of anyone else." A strange sense of foreboding washed over her and she was suddenly very afraid of what her uncle was about to say. "The men were sent under the terms of the alliance we created with the Starks upon your marriage, but they're here for you."
Maliya frowned, putting down the spoon she had raised halfway to her mouth. "For me?" She repeated, not understanding. "But Robb – "
Uncle Oberyn shook his head dismissively. "Is only the King in the North," he interrupted impatiently. "You are Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen and you are the rightful ruler of Westeros. "
Maliya gaped at her uncle, completely frozen and feeling as if she had been hit in the head with something incredibly heavy. Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this. Her heart began to pound in her chest, her hands growing clammy as she nervously swallowed. "What – " her voice cracked and she stopped, clearing her throat as her eyes flickered to the entrance of the tent. "Keep your voice down, uncle, someone will hear you – "
"Maybe it is time that someone did," her uncle interrupted again, though he did lower his voice slightly. "Maybe it is time for you to reveal who you really are! This didn't quite happen the way we expected or planned, but no one can deny that it is the perfect time to do so. If you reveal yourself, we might be able to form alliances with houses that supported the Targaryens during the Usurper's war."
"Uncle Oberyn," Maliya tried to interrupt weakly, feeling as if the world was shifting from under her. She took a swig of water to moisten her dry mouth, wondering where in the Seven Hells all this was coming from.
He continued, not hearing her in his enthusiasm. "You would have the support of House Martell, obviously, and we might also win the support of Houses Darry, Redwyne, Mooton, Tarly and possibly even the Tyrells – "
"Uncle Oberyn!" She said louder, alamming her cup down so hard that water sloshed over the side. "I do not want to rule Westeros."
"Maybe, Maliya, this isn't about what you want," Uncle Oberyn countered, an edge to his voice. "Maybe it's what you need to do in order to get the justice that our family deserves. Weren't you the one who said that you would do whatever was necessary to get your revenge?" He noticed the look on her face and made an effort to gentle his tone. "You have the strongest claim to the throne, certainly better than that false Baratheon currently occupying it. The throne would have been your brother's if he had lived, but even still, your claim is better than that of your aunt or uncle."
Maliya blinked, shock rushing through her once more. "You knew about Viserys and Danaerys?" She asked, eyes narrowed. "How long have you known? When did you find out that part of my Targaryen family was still alive and why didn't you tell me?"
"What purpose would that have served?" He asked, taking another sip of wine. "Your aunt and uncle had to flee because of the usurper and they never stayed in one place for long. I don't know if you remember those first few years, but you were traumatized, suddenly in a new place with new people and you had to completely immerse yourself in your new identity as Maliya Martell. If rumors had spread that there was a Targaryen still alive before we were ready, they would have come to kill you."
"A part of me is Maliya Martell," she explained, trying to convey the sense of fear and panic that this conversation was bringing her. "I look like you and my father, like Arianne, Quentyn and Trystane. What proof do I have that I am Rhaegar Targaryen's daughter?" She asked, shaking her head. "Believe me, uncle, I have thought about revealing who I am, but who would believe me? It would cause more harm than good. I have lied to Robb and his entire family for over a year, I can't – " She broke off as a lump formed in her throat, the guilt slamming into her full force and leaving her breathless. They would hate me, was what she wanted to say. They would never be able to trust me again.
"If they love you, they would forgive you," he reminded her, smiling, certainly not sensing the panic rising within her. "Anyone would be able to understand why you did what you did, Maliya."
Maliya hesitated before speaking again, wanting to stop feeling this guilt and wondering if she should reveal one of her other secrets. The urge to show her uncle was so incredibly strong. To be able to share some of the burden, to be able to tell someone, to get some advice…. "I – I might have something that would convince people that I am a Targaryen," she told him quickly, getting up from the table and retrieving her bag from its hiding place. She held it close to her as she walked back to her uncle. "I found this in the crypts of Winterfell a few moons after I was married," she explained, placing the bag on the table and beginning to slowly dig through it. "I had a dream or a vision one night… it was actually my father who led me to it."
Her uncle let out a low gasp, rising from his chair as Maliya revealed the egg. "Is that…."
"A dragon egg," she confirmed, staring down at it with an unreadable expression in her eyes. Her hands trailed over the egg, tracing the scales lovingly and wishing that she could feel heat emanating from it. "There was a hidden room behind Cregan Stark's tomb. It looked like there were other eggs as well, but there was some sort of cave-in and this was the only one that was still intact."
"Can I hold it?" Her uncle asked in a hushed voice, a look of awe upon his face.
She passed it over to him and he took it as if he were holding a newborn child. "I haven't seen any sign of life since I found it; I think it's turned to stone. I've tried to get it to hatch, but nothing I tried worked. Do you have any ideas?"
"It is heavy enough to be a stone," Uncle Oberyn said, looking thoughtful as he tested the weight. "Unforunately, the secret of how to hatch a dragon was lost centuries ago. I'm sure you've heard of the various attempts that other Targaryens have made. It was never confirmed, but they say the Tragedy at Summerhall was because the king at the time tried to hatch eggs using fire and sorcery." He suddenly frowned at her, looking worried. "How did you try to hatch it? You didn't do anything dangerous, did you? Because hatching this egg isn't worth risking your life over."
"I just tried a few different things with fire," Maliya answered, shrugging. She paused, voicing a fear that had been plaguing her since she found the egg. "Maybe it just won't hatch for me because I'm only half Targaryen."
"Ah, my sweet niece, I'm sure if there was any sign of life in this egg that it would hatch for you," he assured her, handing her the egg and watching her hide it back in the bag. "I suppose it's inevitable that you have your father's blood running through you, but you are your mother's daughter." He put an arm around her and pulled her close. She closed her eyes as she leaned her head against his chest, letting his deep voice wash over her. "Your mother was beautiful, kind, and gracious, with a sharp wit that often contrasted my own. Even after everything that happened to her, she was a Martell to her last breath – Unbowed, Unbent and Unbroken. She was my closest friend and I would have done anything for her. Just as I would do anything for you."
"Thanks, Uncle Oberyn," she sighed. Her heart gave that strange, painful pang that it always did whenever she thought of her mother and she felt sadness wrap around her like a cloak. "We will have our justice eventually."
"Thanks to you, we are that much closer," he said as she hid her bag once more. They both returned to their seats and resumed breaking their fast, though Maliya found that her appetite had fled. "Tell me again how you killed Lorch."
Maliya's chest tightened. "I've told it to you half a dozen times," she said, trying to laugh it off when the truth was that she just didn't want to relive the experience again. "Aren't you getting tired of hearing it?"
"Never," her uncle grinned, popping a berry into his mouth. "You don't have to start at the beginning, you can just start at the fight – "
"I don't want to tell it again," Maliya snapped, realizing too late that her voice sounded harsher than she had intended. She sighed at how taken aback her uncle looked and put down her fork. "I'm sorry," she apologized, looking over at him. "Don't misunderstand, I'm happy that Lorch is dead and I'm glad that I was the one to kill him, but… I don't feel any different."
"That's because we are not done yet," her uncle assured her. "We still have to finish what we started."
"I know." Maliya nodded slowly, thinking out loud. "But I think that Robb and Lady Stark were right. It was Brienne and I against six men. We didn't canvas the village properly – there could have been more men. Anything could have gone wrong and I could have died. If I die, or if you die, then what's the point? All of this would be for nothing."
"What are you saying, Maliya?" The expression on her uncle's face was guarded and closed off and Maliya found herself pleading with him in a low voice.
"All I'm saying is that we have to be smart about this, uncle. We will have our revenge, I promise you, but we don't take any unnecessary risks. Think about my father, Ellaria and the Sand Snakes. Think of how we would feel if you were to die. Just as you, Robb and everyone back in Dorne would feel if I were to die," she whispered. It was a realization that had slowly began to dawn on her over the past fortnight or so. She had worked and trained so hard to attain her revenge that she had never given much thought to her future. But now… now she had Robb, and if they survived this war, she had a future in front of her.
"You sound like your father," he said, a proud smile on his lips. He accurately read the worry in her eyes at the mention of her father. "He's alright, Maliya. His pain has worsened slightly, and it's harder for him to walk, but his mind and his spirits are still intact. He worries about you, especially now. Most of all, though, he just wishes for you to be happy."
"I know," she murmured, looking down at her mostly uneaten oatmeal. "I read his letter. I read all their letters actually. Even after all this time, being so far away from Dorne hurts. I miss them."
"I know you do. Once all of this is over, you'll be able to come and visit. Everyone would be so thrilled to see you." He gave her a long, searching look and Maliya resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in her seat. "I know that you have been Maliya Martell for the past six and ten years, and I know that we spent years drilling it into you that you had to conceal your real identity. Promise me, my sweet niece, you'll think on what I've said. It may seem like a daunting task now, but I believe that it will help you in the end."
"I promise," she answered weakly. Maliya felt as if there were a horse sitting on her chest, restricting her breathing and pushing against her heart. It wasn't a daunting task – it was terrifying. If she revealed who she was, she could lose everything that she had gained in this past year. It would take a lot of work to convince Robb and his family, but she knew a part of her was right earlier. If she didn't have any proof, then no one would believe her. You need that dragon egg to hatch, her mind whispered, showing her an enticing picture of her flying through the air, wings beating on either side. They wouldn't dare doubt you when they see a dragon right in front of them. For when the egg hatches, a dragon will be born and Rhaenys Targaryen will be reborn amidst fire and blood.
Relief. Relief so great that it made him weak in the knees. The wildling woman had caught on to his hidden meaning the other night when he had said that she was free to go. She took the boys, their wolves and the half-wit, killed two of his men and escaped Winterfell. It was cleverly done and he couldn't help but be impressed. The woman had sent the wolves up ahead to distract the dogs, while she and the others doubled back and around a different way. He had ordered that they expand the search, moving quickly now that the sun was beginning to set.
The relief, unfortunately, came with a heavy dose of doubt and regret. While the boys were safe, he was now in more danger than ever and he couldn't help but wish the wildling woman hadn't succeeded. Without them, all of Westeros would think him both weak and a fool. He would be the moron that let a cripple, a halfwit and a six year old boy slip right out from under his nose. There was a small part of him that had wanted to find the boys again, but it looked like they were well and truly gone.
So now, he had to do something that would save his reputation, something that would strike fear into his enemies hearts instead of sneering laughter. He glanced at Dagmar Cleftjaw again. Send the old man home, he had said, a dark, sinister look in his eye. Theon had caught onto his meaning at once. He remembered the miller's wife ushering her two boys inside when they had rode up on their search. Boys that were about the same height and age as Bran and Rickon.
The thought made his stomach twist unpleasantly, a wave of nausea rolling over him. He swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat and forced himself to nod his agreement. "Go back to Winterfell," Theon ordered Maester Luwin, ignoring the flash of fear and apprehension on the old man's face. "You two go with him," he nodded to the men on either side of him.
"Don't do this Theon, you don't have to do this!" Maester Luwin cried as he was practically dragged back to the horses.
Yes, I do, Theon answered silently. I already let the Stark boys escape, I can't return back to Winterfell empty handed. The people will revolt against me and when word reaches my sister and my father, I will never get the respect I deserve.
He waited until the horses rode out of sight before turning back to the mill. Steeling himself, Theon pulled his sword free, clenched his jaw and got to work.
A smile was plastered on Maliya's face as she strolled through the camp early one morning, one hand resting on the pommel of her sword. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and her uncle hadn't brought up revealing her true identity again. Beside all that, though, she had a training session planned with her cousin, something that she hadn't done in a long time.
She had been so excited by the prospect of fighting again that she had risen extra early, even earlier than Robb. Her smile turned into a smirk. Well, she did wear him out spectacularly, so she couldn't exactly blame him for trying to catch up on his sleep. He didn't exactly get much of it last night.
"Rise and shine, Tyene!" Maliya singsonged as she entered her tent. "Prepare to be – seven hells!" She cried, clapping a hand over her eyes and stopping short. "My eyes!"
She heard Tyene laugh. "Oh relax, Maliya, it's nothing you haven't seen before! Besides, all of our important bits are covered."
Maliya cautiously peeked between her fingers to see her blonde cousin sitting up in bed, a sheet carefully wrapped around her chest. The man in her bed had climbed off her and she was relieved to see the sheet covered his waist. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just walked in without asking first – " she paused, really looking at the man next to her, taking in his light brown hair, blue eyes, and close cropped beard. "Daemon Sand? Is that really you?"
"It's really me," he grinned, causing his infamous dimples to show and her own smile to widen. Daemon had been an incredible handsome boy who turned into an even better looking man. She would never admit it out loud, but she had always had a slightly infatuation with him growing up – he was a very talented swordsman, something that she admired about him. He was several years older than her, however, and he had a compliated history with her sister Arianne, so she had never acted on her feelings. That and she had been too scared to ever say anything to him. "It's nice to see you again, Your Grace. Oh, wait, do I need to bow - "
"No, no, no!" Maliya interrupted loudly, waving her hands as he made to get out of the bed and the sheet dipped dangerously low. "We're old friends, you don't have to bow," she assured him quickly. "Why don't I wait outside while you two make yourselves presentable."
She hurried out of the tent before they could say anything. She ran a hand through her hair and blew out a long breath. Apparently she had been in the rigid north for far longer than she thought – she nearly forgot how free and uninhibited people from Dorne were. "Alright, Maliya, you can come back in."
When she re-entered the tent, she was relieved to see that Tyene was wearing a simple, light blue gown and Daemon was shoving his feet into his boots. "So, when did all this happen?" She asked curiously, waving her hand between the two of them. "It had to have started after I left."
"It's fairly recent," Tyene shrugged, glancing coyly over at Daemon. "Traveling hundreds of leagues can get fairly boring." She walked over to Daemon, a small smile on her lips as her fingers danced up his chest. "We were attracted to each other, obviously, and found that we both have needs that the other could satisfy quite well."
Daemon grinned down at her, his hands wrapping around her waist. "This woman is a beautiful seductress that no man could ever possibly resist."
Their faces drifted closer together and Maliya could practically feel the tension in the air. "Do you two want me to come back later?" She asked awkwardly, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder.
"No," Daemon sighed, kissing Tyene one last time before forcing himself to step away. "I'm supposed to be helping Prince Oberyn pack his things before the journey. Tyene, Your Grace." He grinned at them both before slipping out of the tent.
"Journey?" Maliya repeated, crossing her arms with a frown. "Where is Uncle Oberyn going?"
Tyene sat back on the bed, looking confused. "Haven't you heard? King Robb is taking a few thousand men and marching on the Crag. He's asked father to accompany him." Tyene caught Maliya's troubled look. "He didn't tell you?"
Maliya sighed and sat down heavily next to her cousin, rubbing at the burning feeling in her chest. Why didn't Robb tell her about going to the Crag? "No, he did not. Maybe he was planning on just disappearing and hoping that I wouldn't notice."
"Why wouldn't he say anything?"
"Robb and I don't exactly see eye to eye on the whole battle aspect of this war," she explained. "Every time I try to convince him to let me fight, we get into the same argument over and over again."
"You?" Tyene asked, pretending to sound shocked, placing her hand on her chest for effect. "Getting into an argument? Never!" Maliya gave her an unpimpressed, pointed look and Tyene dropped the act with a chuckle. "Alright, you're not in a joking mood, I get it. What do you argue about?"
"I want to fight in the battles alongside him and he says women aren't supposed to fight." She rolled her eyes as she recalled his arguments. "It's completely ridiculous! He knows that Uncle Oberyn trained me to fight and he's seen me in action – it's infuriating. You know, one time I had to dress up like a man just to get a chance to fight?"
Tyene laughed. "You know, oddly enough I can see you doing that." She hesitated, looking as if she were unsure of whether or not to say what was on her mind, something that she had never been bothered by before. "Can I be honest with you, Maliya?"
"Of course!" She answered immediately, laying a hand on Tyene's arm. "Ty, you can always be honest with me, you know that."
"You knew before you even left Dorne that women in the north weren't allowed to fight, did you not?"
Maliya frowned. "Well, yes, but – "
"Look, Maliya, I know you very well and I know that Arianne would agree with me on this. You can be very – how do I phrase this delicately," she mumbled, before taking a breath and facing Maliya completely. "Stubborn. Hard-headed. Argumentative – "
"Thanks for sparing my feelings," Maliya muttered sarcastically under her breath, feeling slightly offended.
Tyene's lips twitched. "All I'm saying is that when you don't get your way, you tend to push and push until the other person gives in. Uncle Doran usually stood strong against you, but my father would eat up anything you said. You grew up in a place where women were allowed to fight and Robb grew up in a place where women were not. It sounds as if he's just as stubborn as you are. You two are just pushing against each other and one of these days something is going to break. Somewhere along the way one of you is going to have to give in."
"Give in?" Maliya repeated, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.
"Yes," Tyene chuckled. "Both of you give something up and meet in the middle. I believe it's called compromise. I know this because I'm older and have more experience than you," she teased.
"Only by four years," Maliya pointed out in irritation, noting the older girl's smug look. She fell quiet as she considered Tyene's words. "You don't think I should be allowed to fight?"
"Of course you should!" Tyene responded immediately, giving her a strange look. "You're incredibly talented with a sword and your skills are going to waste if you don't fight. But men are dense. If you don't make the first move, then he won't see that you're willing to work with him."
"I'll think about what you said. Thanks, Ty," Maliya sighed, a tired smile on her face. "Have I mentioned how glad I am that you're here? I don't have anyone to talk to about these things except for Robb, and that obviously doesn't work very well."
"No problem, little cousin. Now as far as actually being able to go to the Crag, it sounds like you need a different tactic." Tyene stood, staring down at her with her hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side. "Have we taught you nothing, dear cousin?" She asked, shaking her head in disappointment. "What advice did we give you before you left Dorne?"
"Which piece of advice are you referring to?" Maliya asked drily, raising an eyebrow.
"I distinctly remember telling you that you can beat a man with one sword, but if you learn to handle the other sword, no man will be able to defeat or resist you," Tyene informed her matter of factly. "I've seen the way that man looks at you, Maliya. If you can control your temper, and put your hands and mouth to work, there's no way that he can say no."
Maliya looked thoughtful, her brown eyes twinkling. "Well, controlling my temper would certainly be a different tactic. I suppose it's worth a try. The worst that he could do is say no." If nothing else it would distract him from everything else that was going on – the war, the assassin, Bran and Rickon. Her poor husband was unbelievably stressed these past few weeks and she was doing anything and everything to support him and occasionally keep his mind off things.
Tyene grinned mischeviously. "You know, I have a special dress from Dorne, one that Arianne designed for… special occasions."
Maliya watched her cousin go over to her trunk. She could already imagine the type of dress that Arianne designed and when Tyene pulled it free, she found that her assumptions were correct. It was a long, flowing dress, made entirely out of lace and didn't leave much to the imagination. Maliya's eyebrows shot up. "Why would you possibly need to bring this to the battlefield?" She asked, mystified.
Tyene shrugged. "There was extra room in my trunk and you never know when the occasion will call for it. It's important to be prepared for all situations, little cousin, you know that."
Maliya stared at the dress again and then looked back up at her. "Even still, this dress definitely goes against the innocent persona you are trying to project."
"Would you just try it on?" Tyene said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, red is your favorite color. Besides, you know I prefer lighter colors – the bolder colors wash out my pale skin."
"Oh, alright, help me into it then, will you?" Maliya slipped out of the dress she was currently wearing and into the red one. Her and Tyene were around the same size, so it ended up fitting her fairly well.
"Hair up or down?" Tyene asked.
"Robb likes it down," she admitted, blushing slightly as she looked down at herself. "This is entirely too revealing."
"Your husband has seen you wearing absolutely nothing," Tyene reminded her, rolling her eyes again. "His Grace is going to absolutely die." She giggled at the look on Maliya's face. "Now, borrow my cloak, wrap yourself up so none of these lecherous soldiers can't see you, and seduce your husband until he agrees to let you go with him to the Crag."
"If you say so," Maliya grinned, feeling the excitement running through her veins as she held the cloak tight around her. She hurried through the camp with her head down, not wanting to be stopped by anyone in case any awkward questions arose. She smiled quickly at the guards standing outside their tent and stepped inside when they held the flap aside.
Her eyes immediately found Robb to see that he was no longer sleeping. He was standing beside the bed, barefoot and bare-chested with just his breeches on. She hid a grin, glad that she had caught him just before he finished dressing. He glanced over his shoulder at her, smiling when he saw her. "Morning, love," he greeted, before bending down to pick up his tunic. Her eyes trailed over his broad chest and strong shoulders, his slightly mussed hair and stubble making a very attractive image. Seducing this handsome man was certainly not going to be a chore on her part. Feeling a flutter in her stomach, she unclasped the cloak from around her neck and let it drop to the floor. "Where did you run off to so – "
Robb turned to glance at her once more and did a fast double take, his blue eyes bulging from his head and his lips parting in astonishment. She felt her cheeks and body grow warm as his eyes moved down her body, taking in the dress as his mouth opened and closed wordlessly. "Are you speechless, my king?" She asked in amusement, slowly moving toward him. She stopped in front of him, taking the tunic out of his hands and tossing it somewhere behind her.
"Where – " he broke off, clearing his throat as Maliya stood on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Where did you get that dress?"
She grinned against his throat as she felt it bob up and down. "Do you like it?" She murmured, moving her lips up past his rapidly beating pulse, trailing kisses as she went. "I woke up early this morning still thinking about last night. All that hard work that you did…" Her lips moved further up. "I remembered the way I struggled to catch my breath… the way my toes curled." She whispered in his ear, her lips brushing against it and causing him to shudder. "The way I could do nothing but scream your name."
"Maliya," he breathed huskily, deep blue pools of blue staring down at her wildly.
"I was thinking," she continued, trying to hide how affected she was from just his gaze. She added her hands to the mix, trailing them through the hair on his chest, brushing against his nipples and down further. "That maybe I should return the favor. Would you like that?" She asked, looking up at him through her lashes.
"Gods, yes," he groaned, his hands reaching out to grip her as if to steady himself.
Nearly holding her breath, she slowly and torturously began to unlace his breeches all the while pressing kisses along his chest. "You know, rumor has it that you will be leaving for the Crag in a few days," she breathed, keeping her voice light. One of her hands dipped inside once there was enough room and found him more than ready for her, something he never failed to do whenever they were together. She looked up at him as she heard his breath catch and saw his eyelids flutter shut as her fingers danced along the length of him. "Apparently, my uncle and some of his men are going to be joining you."
"Maliya," he tried to say, but she was entirely too focused on her task.
She pulled his breeches down so that they pooled around his ankles, allowing him to spring free. "I can't imagine why you wouldn't have told me about this," she murmured, hands moving along him as her lips trailed down lower. "I know we've had our arguments in the past, but – "
"Maliya," he said firmly, regretfully stopping her hands. He put a knuckle under her chin, lifting her gaze so she was looking up at him. "You're coming with me to the Crag. I would have told you that last night, but, well – we were a little preoccupied," he chuckled, a proud glint in his eyes.
"Really?" Maliya asked, blinking in stunned disbelief. "You want me to come with you?"
"I do," he smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I just got you back, Maliya, I'm not letting you out of my sight for a very long time."
"It makes me very happy to hear that," she grinned, her heart fluttering in her chest. She pretended to heave a big sigh. "Well, that's all I came here for, I have some other business I need to attend to," she teased, moving to walk away from him in his current state.
"Oh, no you don't," Robb muttered, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back towards him. She ignored the slight pain as her breasts we slightly crushed against his chest, letting out a laugh as his arms threaded around her waist, holding her tightly to him. "There's no way I'm letting you leave this tent looking like that, especially when you've got me all worked up." She glanced down between them at the evidence of his arousal and grinned.
"I do owe you a favor, don't I?" She asked, pretending to stop and think before she shrugged. "Oh, alright, if I must."
"Little minx," he growled, noting the teasing glint in her eye. He swiftly picked her up and tossed her on the bed before climbing up after her.
She grinned into his kiss, his lips urgent and demanding and distracting. She stopped his hands from undoing the dress, trying to remember the favor that she owed him. Surprising him completely, she flipped them over so she was on top, smiling devilishly down at him as her lips trailed lower and lower. When they finally reached their destination, she heard his sharp intake of breath, felt his hands tangle in her hair, moving it away so he could watch and thought that it was too bad he had already agreed to letting her accompany him to the Crag. She was pretty sure he would have agreed to anything she asked for.
"Are you packed and ready to leave?" Robb asked Maliya, placing his hand on her back. He was in full battle armor with his sword on his hip.
Maliya patted the bag that she had tied to Shadow's saddle. "I'm all ready," she confirmed. She had also fastened her sword to the saddle, but she had successfully done that without Robb noticing.
"Great. I'm going to make sure the rest of the men are ready. I'll be back shortly."
"Alright. I'll be here." She smiled as he pressed a kiss to her temple and walked off. While she was waiting for the troops to march off, she walked around Shadow, making sure his saddle was fastened properly. "Hello, boy," she murmured softly, stopping in front of him and rubbing his nose. "I'm sorry you have to keep hauling around all this heavy weight. Don't give me that look, you silly horse, I don't mean me." She sighed, pressing a forehead against his head. "There are so many things that I'm uncertain of that it's starting to become overwhelming." The egg, the letter, her past, her future… it all jumbled together in her mind. How do I hatch a fossilized dragon egg? When should I show the letter to the Starks? Should I reveal my true identity? Will Robb hate me forever and will it ruin my marriage?
"Morning, cousin," Tyene greeted, causing Maliya to jump. "Who is that talking with the king?"
Maliya looked up, glancing over her shoulder to see Robb talking with a dark haired woman. "That's Lady Talisa, she's been helping the Silent Sisters treat the wounded. Why do you ask?"
"I don't like her," Tyene declared immediately, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Look at the way she's looking at your husband."
Maliya rolled her eyes, turning back to Shadow. "It's common courtesy to look at someone when you're talking to them, Tyene. Don't be so ridiculous."
"Believe me, I can pick up on these things from a league away. That woman is attracted to your husband."
"So is half of Westeros," Maliya told her with a snicker. "If I got upset at every woman who found Robb attractive, it would drive me mad. Now, stop trying to cause trouble. Robb loves me and I trust him. When he starts tiring of me and doesn't want to ravish me every other night, then I'll be worried."
"If you say so," Tyene shrugged. She glanced over to see Robb approaching them, Grey Wind joining his side. Her eyes fell on the giant direwolf and she took a step backwards. "I have to go check on my horse before we leave." Maliya opened her mouth to say goodbye but she was already gone.
"The men are saddling up and we'll be leaving in a few minutes."
"Will Lady Talisa be accompanying us?" Maliya asked, looking up at him.
"No," Robb shook his head, holding up a list of items. "She's just requested that we look for a few supplies that she's running low on once we take the Crag."
Maliya smiled up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, that confident are we?" She teased.
"Well, the castle is lightly garrisoned, and we do have more men than they do," he grinned, bending down to peck her on the lips. "Come on, saddle up."
She paused. "I will, I just need to use the privy before we go."
"Again?" Robb blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't you just do that?"
"Apparently I drank more while breaking my fast than I thought I did." She grinned at the adorably confused look on his face and couldn't resist leaning up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his one more time. "Don't worry, I'll be quick!" She called over her shoulder before hurrying off.
Robb lead a couple thousand men away from Ashmarke and toward the Crag, a combination of northmen, Bolton men, and Dornishmen. The Crag was relatively close to where they had been camped so it didn't take long to reach the castle, though it felt like forever to Maliya. She didn't know if was the way she was swaying in the saddle or the slightly bruised apple that she had eaten this morning, but her stomach was in an uproar. She spent most of the ride fighting waves of nausea, swallowing reflexively when she felt the bile rising in her throat.
She could have cried with relief when they finally stopped to set up camp a safe distance from the castle. She shakily slid down from Shadow's saddle, the world tilting slightly when she planted both feet on the ground.
"Maliya?" Tyene called in concern as Maliya walked with as much dignity and self-respect as she could, placed a hand on a nearby tree, leaned over and heaved. "Are you alright?" Tyene asked, hurrying over to her and gathering Maliya's hair in one hand to avoid getting sick on it and rubbing her back with the other.
"I'm alright," Maliya assured her, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and inwardly wincing at the gross taste. Luckily when she looked around it seemed that only Tyene had noticed that she had stepped off to the side. Most of the men were already rushing about them, setting up the tents and establishing a perimeter. "It must have been something I ate," she explained, using her hand to wave away Tyene's concern as she walked back to Shadow to grab her bag and sword.
Tyene was frowning as she watched her, her blue eyes doubtful. "'Liya, you haven't eaten anything all day, I tried to get you to eat something numerous times, but – "
"Stop worrying, my dear cousin, I'm feeling fine." She saw Robb approaching, his King face on and one hand on the hilt of his sword. "Do not say anything to Robb," she hissed warningly to Tyene under her breath. "If he knows what happened he won't let me fight in the siege."
"Maliya – " Tyene stopped abruptly at both the look on Maliya's face and the arrival of Robb.
Robb attempted a smile in Tyene's direction, but Maliya could tell that he was preoccupied with the task at hand, his mind in full battle mode. "Would you mind giving me a moment alone with my wife?" Tyene nodded, sending one last look in Maliya's direction before moving a short distance away. Robb put a hand on the small of Maliya's back and led her away.
"So what's the plan?" She asked him, linking her arm through his. "When do we attack? If it makes you feel better, you can surround me with guards, I know you've had Dacey Mormont keeping an eye on me – "
"Maliya," he interrupted gently, stopping to face her and taking her hands in his. His face was guarded and he looked slightly uncomfortable. "I know I said I wanted you to come with me, and I'm glad you're here, but – "
"But you meant for me to stay behind in the tent, not join in on the fighting," Maliya finished in a quiet voice, looking away from him, her jaw clenching. Her first instinct was to open her mouth and argue with him, but she fought against it, remembering Tyene's words. Seven hells, she really was argumentative wasn't she? She looked back up into Robb's face, noting the stress around his eyes and mouth and damn, there was that guilt again. He was dealing with so much and she had promised that she would help support him. If she couldn't tell him the truth, then maybe she could help him by giving him the peace of mind of knowing that she was safe back in the tent. "Alright Robb. If that's what you want, then that's what I'll do."
"Listen, Maliya, I know that – " He stopped, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Wait. You're agreeing with me? Just like that? No arguments?" He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, then cupped her cheek, frowning. "Are you feeling alright?"
Barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she pulled his hand away from her face and lacing their fingers together. "I love you, Robb," she said, forcing a smile on her face and forcing the words out even though there was a part of her that felt like it was dying inside. "I don't want to fight with you anymore."
Robb stared down at her, searching her face for a long moment with a troubled expression. She inwardly frowned. Why didn't he look relieved? "I love you too," he finally responded. He glanced away as a group of soldiers jogged past. "I need to meet with Prince Oberyn and the rest of the bannermen to go over the plan. We attack when night falls." He paused again, that strange look crossing his face. "I'm… I'm glad you're going to be safe," he murmured, putting a knuckle under her chin, lifting her face so he could gently kiss her. "I'll see you soon."
"For the sake of the Seven, Maliya, would you stop pacing?" Tyene complained, from where she was lounging on the bed in Maliya's tent. "You're starting to wear a path into the ground."
"It's been hours," Maliya growled under her breath, fists clenching and unclenching as she picked up the pace, skirts flaring out every time she turned. "I feel as if I'm going mad, Tyene. This isn't me. I shouldn't be sitting here in the tent like some weak, defenseless woman, I should be out there with Robb and Uncle Oberyn. I should be fighting." She threw Tyene a disgruntled look. "This is all your fault."
Tyene lifted an eyebrow, looking amused. "How exactly is this my fault?"
"You and all your talk of compromise."
"That was good advice and you know it."
"That's besides the point," Maliya grumbled, waving a hand. "I just can't stand this." She flopped backwards on the bed with a groan, covering her face with both her arms.
"I almost forgot how over dramatic you were," Tyene sighed, shifting closer to her and prying her arms away from her face. Maliya blinked up at her cousin's grinning, thoroughly entertained face. "Listen, Maliya, the only reason you're so stressed out is because you're worried about the King. He hasn't been gone long enough to worry this much. Look at it this way. You're lucky you're married to a man considerate enough to see you before he rides off to battle."
"You're right," Maliya nodded, forcing herself to take a deep breath. "Robb and his men came up with a good plan. Scaling parties over the walls and a ram through the gates all in the middle of the night? House Westerling won't know they're coming until it's too late." Maliya's brown eyes were pleading as she looked up at Tyene. "Distract me before I go insane. Tell me about home," she pleaded.
And Tyene did. Even as her stomach twisted with worry over Robb's safety, Maliya found herself smiling as her cousin told her stories about Doran, Arianne, Trystane and the other Sand Snakes. She couldn't wait for this war to be over so that she could go back and see them all.
Maliya suddenly sat up, listening. "Do you hear that?" Her eyes widened. "Horses! They're back!" Without waiting for Tyene's response, she leaped off the bed, picking up her skirts so she could hurry outside the tent. She felt Tyene following her as they dashed to the edge of camp to watch the soldiers returning.
The noise was thunderous. Not only were the horses themselves loud, but the men were cheering and and banging their weapons against their shields. "The King in the North!" They shouted. "Winterfell!"
"I'm assuming the siege was successful," she heard Tyene drawl under her breath.
Maliya heard none of it. Her eyes were flickering from soldier to soldier, searching. While some part of her knew that the men wouldn't be shouting and cheering if Robb wasn't alright, she couldn't really believe it until she saw him for herself. And then there he was… partially slumped over in his saddle with his left shoulder wrapped in a white bandage. Someone had removed the armor that she had made for him and she cursed herself when it became apparent that it wasn't as infallible as she had hoped. His face was paler than usual, but his eyes were bright and there was a victorious smile on his face.
"He's injured," Maliya muttered in a low voice, her eyes narrowing at the flash of fear that ran through her. "I'm going to kill him."
"Wouldn't that be counterproductive?" Tyene asked rhetorically. "He looks alright to me, Maliya, he wouldn't be riding a horse if he was hurt that badly." Uncle Oberyn rode up beside Robb as he pulled to a stop in front of them, and both Maliya and Tyene let out a collective sigh of relief to see that he was unharmed.
Robb waved away Oberyn's offer to help him down, but Maliya noticed his mouth tighten in pain when his feet made contact and it jostled his shoulder. "Ah, what a battle!" Uncle Oberyn declared, grinning from ear to ear. His body was positively vibrating with pent up energy. "After so many moons stuck on a ship, it was a relief to stretch these old muscles and use my spear again. And what a battle it was. You should have seen it, Maliya, it was fantastic. The scaling parties were up and over the walls before the enemy even realized we were there and when the King and his direwolf broke through the gates, you could practically feel their fear."
Maliya's lip twitched. Nothing ignited the fire in her uncle's blood quite like fighting – well, that and sex, of course. "It was quite a battle," Robb agreed, clapping a hand on her uncle's shoulder with his uninjured arm. "It was an honor to fight beside such a legend."
"Robb," Maliya said in a low voice, drawing his attention to her. She resisted the urge to put her hands on her hips in response to the flickers of panic she was feeling. What if the arrow had been a little lower and a couple inches to the left?
"I'm fine, Maliya, I promise," he assured her, already knowing why her eyes were narrowed. "It's nothing but a flesh wound. I was hit in the shoulder with an arrow, but once we took the castle, the maester removed it easily and stitched it up. He made a poultice to prevent infection and said that the wound should heal within a fortnight." She stared up at him, her mind running through all the scenarios in which things could have ended much differently. This was why she needed to be there with him. If she was there, maybe this could have been prevented. "I'm fine," he repeated, smiling and reading her mind and the worry in her brown eyes. He surreptitiously reached out for her hand, lacing their fingers together. She clutched it tightly, drawing on his strength and his reassurances and took a deep breath.
"Alright." She plastered a smile on her face and tried to push her concern away. "Shall I have some wine and food sent to our tent? You should probably rest so you don't pull the stitches." He nodded and she turned to her uncle and cousin. "You both are welcome to join us. I'm eager to hear more about the battle."
"As am I," Tyene added.
"I'll recount it in detail," her uncle promised with a grin. "It was one of the most decisive victories I've seen in years."
"It helped that we were cloaked in the darkness of the night," she heard Robb say to her uncle as they headed towards the tent. "They didn't realize we were attacking them until it was too late."
Tyene turned to look at Maliya. "I'm going to check in on Daemon. Just to make sure he's alright," she clarified at the look on Maliya's face. "I'll meet you at your tent shortly." Smiling softly and shaking her head, Maliya set off in search of a guard who would deliver the wine and food to their tent.
When she entered their tent, she found that Robb had ordered two extra chairs to be set up alongside the table and he and Uncle Oberyn were sitting at it, talking quietly amongst themselves. Maliya paused for a moment, a warm feeling spreading through her chest as she watched them. They were chatting with relative ease and she felt pleased that her husband and her uncle seemed to be getting along.
Robb looked up as she entered, sending her a smile that never failed to make her heart accelerate. She smiled back at him before glancing at her uncle. "So what tales of your heroic deeds have I missed so far?" She asked, her eyes light and teasing as she moved to sit in the chair next to Robb, her hand brushing his uninjured shoulder as she passed.
Her uncle eagerly launched into a detailed account of the battle from the moment the attack began and Maliya forced herself to pay attention, making the appropriate noises of awe and astonishment. Unfortunately, it was more difficult than she would have thought. What in the seven hells was wrong with her? Her emotions were all over the place lately and she could hardly make sense of what she was feeling. While she knew that battles were dangerous and risky, this was all hitting her so hard because for the first time, Robb was actually hurt.
Robb shifted uncomfortably in his chair, wincing as he tried to find a more comfortable position for his arm and shoulder. Horrified, Maliya's eyes began to water and her throat began to burn at the thought of him in pain. It only worsened when she remembered yet again that he could die, alone on a battlefield while she was left behind in the tent, waiting. Her stomach roiled and she felt as if she was going to get physically sick again.
Robb is not going to die, Maliya told herself in anger and frustration. And I cannot deal with this panic and fear every time that Robb rides off into battle – it would eat away at me until there was nothing left.
Seeming to sense Maliya's inner turmoil, Oberyn sent her a sidelong glance. She met her uncle's gaze and imperceptively shook her head, indicating that she was alright. At that moment, a young man with rather long brown hair entered the tent carrying a tray of four cups of wine, as per her instructions. He stepped aside so another man could enter and place bowls of rabbit stew in front of each of them, including one in front of Tyene's empty chair.
The man serving the stew bowed respectfully before he left and the young man with the wine began to step forward. Just as he did, however, Tyene swept into the tent. "Ah, excellent," she beamed angelically, pausing in front of the man to swipe a cup off the tray. "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but this is wine from Dorne, is it not? Wherever did you find it?"
The young man's eyes bulged as Tyene raised the cup to her lips and drank. "Is everything alright?" Maliya asked him curiously, tilting her head to the side as the man stared at Tyene in shock.
The man started at the sound of her voice, tearing his gaze away from Tyene to glance at her. "I – yes, of course, Your Grace," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the remaining cups on his tray, his eyes flickering between them, his face pale and his eyebrows furrowed. "Our men found a casket of Dornish wine in the cellars of the Crag, it appeared to be the last of their reserves. I hope it is to your liking."
Tyene took a seat as the man walked past her to serve the King first and Maliya caught the strong scent of the wine. Her stomach turned unpleasantly once more and she had to swallow hard against the nausea. "Is this Dornish strongwine?" She questioned, glancing up at the man. His hand hovered over the cups indecisively for a moment before picking one and placing one in front of Robb with a slightly shaking hand. "It smells sweeter than the Dornish reds I am used to."
"I – I am not certain, Your Grace," he answered, moving to her other side. She caught a strong scent of body sweat and perspiration as he moved and she frowned, wondering when her nose had become so sensitive.
She waved him off as he went to put a cup in front of her. "No wine for me, just a cup of water, please. I'm afraid I'm not feeling much of an appetite, tonight."
The man's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't move. "You don't want any wine?" He repeated as if he couldn't make sense of the words.
"Just water. Please," she told him. There was a smile on her face, but a hint of steel in her voice as the man continued to stare at her.
"Of course, Your Grace. I'll fetch your water," he mumbled at last, lowering his gaze and moving on to give a cup to Tyene and to Robb. As soon as the last cup was down, he went over to the small side table next to her and Robb's bed and poured a separate cup of water. After he placed it in front of her, he bowed respectfully and practically fled.
"What a strange boy," Tyene commented, eyebrow quirked in amusement. "Just barely a man and already in the presence of a King, a Queen and a Prince. I suppose it's enough to make anyone nervous."
"I thought the poor boy was going to piss himself," her uncle said, raising the cup of wine in front of his nose and swirling it, inhaling deeply.
"Are you sure you're feeling alright, Maliya?" He asked, leaning forward as his blue eyes watched her in concern. "It's not like you to miss a meal."
"I'm perfectly alright," she assured him, smiling. He had more than enough to worry about without adding her nausea to the list. Grabbing her cup of water, she raised it in the air, grinning proudly and changing the subject as she looked around the table. "To Robb and Uncle Oberyn!" She declared.
Tyene raised her own cup with a smile. "To the victory at the Crag!" She added, making Robb's eyes blaze with triumph as he reached for his cup to join with theirs.
"Stop!" Uncle Oberyn snapped, his voice cracking through the tent like a whip just before they went to drink. "Don't drink that!" They immediately froze at the authority and urgency in his voice, and three pairs of eyes looked to him in alarm. The expression on her uncle's face was grave and Maliya immediately knew that something was very wrong. He usually adopted a relaxed, somewhat carefree persona and there were very few occasions when she had seen him this serious. "Give me your cup," Uncle Oberyn said to Robb, holding out his hand expectantly.
"What is it, Prince Oberyn?" Robb questioned as he passed it over.
They all watched him raise the cup to his nose, swirling it slightly and inhaling. He held up a finger in response to Robb's question and slid both Robb's and his cup over to Tyene. "What do you smell?"
Meeting her father's gaze, Tyene smelled each of the cups separately before looking up once more with wide blue eyes. "This one smells sweet. Even sweeter than the strongwine."
Maliya shot a panicked glance at Robb before leaning forward. "Are you saying that someone tried to poison Robb?"
"Sweetsleep," they announced at the same time, their voices resolute as they confirmed her suspicions.
Uncle Oberyn explained further, looking around at them all. "A few grains will calm a racing heart, a pinch will give you a deep, dreamless sleep, but three pinches or more will give you a painless death. This was a botched, amateur job. Sweetsleep smells and tastes sweet; generally undetectable in sweet foods or honeyed wine, but to someone who has an extensive background in poisons it was relatively easy to catch. Even still, if Maliya hadn't unconsciously caught on to the unnatural sweetness in this Dornish red, it might have been too late." His gaze met Robb's. "Someone is becoming very desperate to kill you, Your Grace."
Maliya sat there, stunned. If her uncle hadn't been here, if he hadn't thought to investigate the strange smell that she hadn't even thought twice about… Would the Lannisters really resort to an underhanded weapon such as poison in order to win this war?
Fury lit Robb's blue eyes as he rose from his chair, bracing his good hand against the table. "Guards!" He barked loudly, and the two men positioned outside the tent immediately stepped inside, standing at attention. "Someone has tried to kill me yet again, this time through poison," he informed them. The guards stiffened in shock, alarm on their faces when they realized yet another assassin had slipped right past them. "Round up the bannermen and inform them about what has happened. I want this camp searched and I want the men who stepped inside this tent tonight brought before me. Do it discreetly, I don't want to raise any unnecessary alarms. We are going to get to the bottom of this once and for all. I will lead – "
"Forgive me, Your Grace," Uncle Oberyn interrupted, rising as well. "But seeing as someone has just made yet another attempt on your life, it would probably be best if you stayed here. I will gather some of my best men to assist with the search and I would suggest posting two of your most trusted men outside your tent. No one comes in without your permission."
Robb stared down at the table for a moment before looking up and meeting their gazes. Maliya could see how much he hated to agree with her uncle, but he reluctantly nodded anyway. "Alright. Find the Smalljon and Dacey Mormont, they are among the most trusted of my guard. I shall stay here, but I want those men brought before me. I want to question them myself." Robb walked around the table and picked up the cup of poisoned wine, slowly upending it over the ground. "Dispose of the rest of the food and wine, I'm taking no chances."
"Of course, Your Grace," the guards responded, collecting the plates and cups and hurrying out of the tent.
"I shall keep you informed," her uncle told Robb, before putting a hand on Tyene's back and they swept out of the tent as well.
"Seven hells," Robb groaned, collapsing back in his chair and rubbing his hand wearily across his face. "I can rush headlong into battle, I can fight against several men at the same time… but poison? How am I supposed to fight against that? I know your uncle is well acquainted with poison, but in most of Westeros it is regarded with fear and loathing. It is a filthy, underhanded way to kill someone."
"Believe me, I don't share my uncle's affinity for poison. However, I don't think this attempt on your life was unrelated to the assassin in our tent. Perhaps you should think about acquiring a food taster."
Robb shook his head, looking frustrated. "How can I ask someone to risk their life by eating or drinking potentional poison that was supposed to be meant for me?"
"Because you are a King," Maliya responded firmly."And because thousands of men are looking to you to lead them to victory." Both her face and voice softened as she went over to kneel beside him, grabbing his good arm. "I know you have your father's sense of honor, Robb, but the rest of Westeros is not playing by the same rules." Maliya found herself pleading with him as Stannis' words echoed in her ear. Lord Eddard's integrity cost him his head.
Robb's blue eyes met hers and Maliya saw Lord Stark staring back at her. "I have to be able to live with the choices that I make, Maliya. I have to stand by what is right."
"Sometimes, there's the right choice or the things you have to do to survive," Maliya murmured, thinking back on her own decisions. "Sometimes you have to go against what you know is right in order to protect the people that you love." She noticed Robb's puzzled look and shook her head to clear her thoughts, managing to put a small smile on her face. "Just – keep that in the back of your mind, alright? Good, honorable people like – " she broke off mid-sentence as Robb looked away from her, his jaw working. "They don't survive against enemies that will do whatever is necessary to win."
"Your Grace." Both Robb and Maliya looked around as Dacey Mormont held the tent flap aside and looked through. "We found them."
"Already?" Robb frowned, standing from the chair and walking over to exit the tent. "It hasn't even been ten minutes."
Maliya trailed after him. When they walked outside, Uncle Oberyn was leading several of his men toward them. The expression on everyone's faces was grim and the very air surrounding them was dark and full of unease. Her eyes fell on what her uncle's men were carrying between them and realized that it was two limp bodies. They were dropped at their feet and bile rose once more in Maliya's throat as she stared into their wide, dead eyes, a bloody red slash across their throats.
"We found them thrown in one of the supply tents," Uncle Oberyn explained at the stormy look on Robb's face. "This was a rushed, careless job. These men were only pawns, easily disposable."
Maliya's attention was diverted as Grey Wind trotted over to them, lured by the scent of blood. He sniffed around the bodies for a moment, licking a bit of the blood before turning to Robb and sitting by his side.
"So we still have no idea who has been ordering these attacks," Maliya muttered, crossing her arms over her stomach and holding her elbows. Her eyes drifted over to stare at her husbands back and a worried frown crossed her face as helplessness flooded her once more. Someone was desperately trying to kill him and all Maliya wanted to do was keep him in his tent, surrounded by his most trusted warriors so that nobody could get close to him. She knew him though, and knew that it was not something that he would ever agree to, because she wouldn't agree to it either.
"Double the patrols around the camp," Robb ordered, looking at Smalljon Umber. "And find someone to dispose of these bodies." He turned to Dacey and she stood at attention. "Find Ser Wendel Manderly and Patrek Mallister. Create a guard rotation for the night. We leave at first light."
The others nodded at his words and Robb swept back inside the tent with Grey Wind as everyone dispersed. The Smalljon had guards drag the bodies away and soon all that was left was Uncle Oberyn and herself, not counting the two previous guards who resumed their post until Dacey returned.
"It's been a long night," he said quietly, moving to stand in front of her. "You should get some rest. I'm going to post some of my own men around the camp and around your tent. I understand that Robb doesn't know or trust my men, but I am taking no chances when your life is at risk as well."
"Thank you, uncle," she whispered, closing her eyes briefly as her uncle put a hand on her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you in the morning."
She sent him a shaky smile before going back inside the tent. Her eyes swept inside, noticing Grey Wind lying on the ground by the foot of the bed and landing on Robb, who was struggling to undo the laces of his shirt one handed, wincing every time his movements jostled his injured shoulder. She slowly went up to him, carefully brushing his hand and taking over to untie the hopeless knot that he had created. She could feel his gaze on her but she kept her focus on the laces.
Her throat was burning and she was just barely keeping her tumultuous emotions in check. Unfortunately, she was fighting a losing battle because the laces began to blur as her eyes filled with tears and before she knew it one of them escaped, sliding down her cheek. "Damn it," she breathed, her voice trembling with fear and frustration.
"Maliya," Robb murmured softly, but she shook her head.
Clearing her throat, she blinked away the tears and finally undid the knot, pulling the rest of the laces free. Carefully, she peeled it back, exposing his chest before slowly pulling it down his arms. He hissed out a breath as his injured arm was jostled again. The shirt was tossed somewhere behind them and Maliya's eyes were drawn to his bandaged shoulder. There was a slight red stain in the middle of it, and Maliya felt as if she had been punched in the stomach when she saw how close the arrow came to his heart.
The tears came unbidden, spilling down her cheeks. "I can't lose you, Robb," she whispered as fear seized her heart once more. "I don't – I can't – " Words failed her at the bleak, hopeless life she would have without Robb and shook her head frantically as panic filled her.
Robb gently put a knuckle under Maliya's chin and lifted her gaze to meet his. Keeping his blue eyes on her, his hand drifted down to grab her hand and place it on his heart. "Feel that?" He asked. Her eyes fluttered closed as she focused on the strong, steady beat of his heart against her hand. "I'm alive, Maliya. I'm alive and I am right here."
Her hand still on his heart, she opened her eyes and raised herself on her tiptoes to press her lips against his. It was slightly salty with her tears, but it was a kiss of love and of comfort and Maliya drew as much strength from that as she could. Conscious of his injury, she didn't deepen the kiss, though everything inside her wanted to. She wanted to lose herself in him totally and completely, but instead she reluctantly pulled away. His good hand smoothed down her hair as her arms slid around his waist and they held each other tightly. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in her ear. "I promise."
Maliya felt the bone deep exhaustion in her body and yet she couldn't sleep. She lay there, curled up against Robb's uninjured side as he slumbered peacefully. Maliya, on the other hand, was being tormented by all of her secrets. The letter, the egg, her identity, the attempted assassinations… it was all too much. Too much guilt, too much pain, too much fear and uncertainty. Her stomach was twisted in knots and there was a heavy weight pressed against her chest that kept pressing down until she felt as if she couldn't breathe.
Raising herself up on one elbow, she looked down at her handsome, sleeping husband. Overcome with the urge to say something, to apologize for everything, Maliya began to speak – and once she started she just couldn't stop. "I'm sorry," she breathed, so softly that even she could barely hear her words. "I'm sorry for lying to you about my past and I'm sorry for everything else that I haven't told you since. I wish that I could tell you, Robb, I want to tell you more than anything, but I… I'm afraid of what will happen after. I'm afraid you won't understand. I'm afraid that the truth about me will put you and your family in even more danger than you are now. I've never been so afraid," she confessed, unable to resist reaching out to brush away Robb's curls from his forehead. He grumbled a sigh, turning his face into her hand and her heart damn near broke. "I wasn't supposed to feel like this. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you." Her eyes softened. "And yet… it was the best thing that ever happened to me and I'll never regret it."
After a moment she settled back against Robb's side, feeling only marginally better as she wrapped a protective arm around his waist. Her eyes drifted closed and she finally fell into a fitful sleep. Of course, however, not even her dreams could be peaceful.
It was a strange sort of dream, the kind where she knew she was dreaming. The flashes that she saw were familiar in the way that she realized she had had this sort of dream before. The images would flash in her mind so fast that she could just barely recognize what they were before they were gone.
A ship with a plain, black sail. An ear piercing that looked like the tooth of some animal. A tattoo of a black dragon with it's tail coiled around an arm. And finally, a gate with a strange looking statue – the torso was that of a woman, but her arms were the wings of a bat, she had a scorpion's tail and her legs were that of an eagle and in the talons she was holding a chain with open manacles at either end.
Author's Note: Everything is building for Maliya – her uncle pushing her to reveal her identity and all the guilt and fear that she feels, and soon enough, something will break. I know that a few of you are impatient with the pacing of this story, but if things are revealed too quickly it won't have the same impact. I'm invested in this story for the long haul and I want to take my time and do it correctly, the way that I have planned.
Next chapter: The last one in season 2! Maliya learns some shocking news, Tyene finds out the truth, Theon makes a difficult choice, and Tywin returns to King's Landing.
Please take a moment to leave a review :)
Charlie: Thanks for reviewing, I'm so glad you liked the chapter! I'm glad you're liking the twist on Theon's story, I've been worried about that story line in particular. Hope you like this update!
Rusty 14: Thank you for your review! As for revealing her secrets…. The guilt is beginning to eat away at her so we'll have to wait and see what happens!
Guest 2: I'm so glad you like the long chapters haha I can't seem to help myself, they seem to get longer and longer each time. Yes, she stopped taking the moon tea! Did you notice anything special in this chapter?
Vhy: Glad you liked the chapter! I work on these chapters as much as I can, but real life takes precedence sometimes as I'm sure you can understand.
Alina: Thank you for your review! Maliya and Robb have a special place in my heart! I remember in the beginning of the story I used to struggle writing scenes between them and now it comes so easily. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last!