Maya glared at the food in front of her. Her stomach felt like bursting out all of his contents at the sight of the roasted pig's heads on her golden plate. Its eyes were gouged out viciously, leaving the skin slightly torn. It had various scars on its head, hidden by seasoning. It looked to be in cruel condition to where killing it was a mercy and not a sin.
Maya stared impassively down at the head; she didn't know why they were all looking at her like she was a wounded wolf.
"Do you like it, Aunt?" Joffrey asked gleefully, a cruel smile on his face.
A small smile tugged her lips and she smirked as she looked up and to him. "And this is supposed to mean something to me, yes?"
Joffrey's smile faltered a little. "Yes," he said as if trying to get a reaction out of her.
She looked thoughtful for a second before saying, "I don't see it."
"It's supposed to be your brother's head."
"Which one? I have so many."
"Robb. Stark's. Head." He pronounced angrily.
"Grand Maester Pycelle," she called out.
"Yes, my lady," he said gruffly.
"Name the house that has a pig as their sigil, would you? It seems to have slipped my mind suddenly," She chuckled softly.
"Um…House Suggs," he answered hesitantly.
"I see. I know that they are on Stannis Baratheon's side of the war, are they not?"
"They are, my lady," he answered.
"Thank you, Pycelle. You see, I am of House Stark-a direwolf." She reminded Joffrey with an amused grin, wanting to see how far he would go before he broke. "I don't see the joke in serving me a pig instead of a wolf. I don't see how this is cruel. I don't see anything really."
Silence.
Maya continued, "I mean if you served me a wolf's head with it's jaw ripped off along with it's eyes hollowed out then it would symbolize defeat of a fierce enemy-also if you skinned it's fur than you would be shaming it and the house it represents. Now for cruelty of it's fur, I would make it's house wear the fur on themselves while making them eat it's meat."
She let those thoughts pass through their imaginations then she sighed. "But alas…all you did was serve me a pig's head with no eyes."
"How dare you talk to me that way! I am your king," Joffrey growled at her.
"And?" she challenged.
Joffrey smirked cruelly. "And I can easily kill your sister. Have someone beat her to death among other things. Would you like that, Aunt?"
"Go ahead," she said amused without hesitation. There were gasps in their crowd and Maya felt Jaime's hand tighten on her thigh where it rested ever since they sat down, his fingers biting into her skin. "Kill her. What do I care? She hates me and there for I have nothing left to use."
"Fine," he snapped, almost breaking though his right eye did a little twitch. "SER MERYN-"
"Oh, such a tragic thing that happened to him really," she told him with false sympathy. "It's a pity that he's dead. So..cruel."
"You little bitch," he snarled after his shocked expression passed. "You killed him!"
"Did I?" Maya responded with false confusion. "There is no proof. How could I anyways since I am just a woman, beloved nephew. My only weapons are my tears and what's between my legs, isn't that right, Lady Cersei?"
"Enough," Jaime whispered harshly into her ear.
"Oh, look the jesters are here, my love," Margaery exclaimed happily, desperately drawing to draw his attention elsewhere.
Everyone clapped for them, seeming to have forgotten what had happened a few seconds ago. Maya turned to Jaime and questioned, "It'll never be enough."
"How could you do that to her?" Jaime asked,
Maya rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean it. I wanted to see what would happen if I were to give him a poke in the belly."
Jaime eyed her suspiciously. "What are you up to, Maya?"
She tilts her head to the side a little. "Would it be enough if Tyrion had died?"
Jaime gulped and his jaw hardened. They both knew that right then and there that she was right. If Tyrion had been killed then and Jaime knew who they were, able to sit and interact with them then he too would try slit their throat in an instant, but wait until the moment presented itself. Jaime suddenly knew that that was what Maya was doing at this very moment. He looked into her eyes and they softened as she smiled softly then leaned in and placed the gentlest kiss he had ever felt onto his lips. Her fingers slowly outlined his cheekbone.
Maya then stood up and pushed her chair out, walking away from the table. She didn't want to see the jesters make a mockery out of the war. It wasn't something to make idle humor about; it was a deep tragedy for all since so many lives were lost.
Maya stood at the top of the steps where Grand Maester Pycelle was walking very slowly back to the castle. She called out his name and didn't bother to walk towards him. No, instead she wanted him to come to her. He turned around and walked back to her.
"My lady," he greeted.
"Pycelle," she mused.
"How have you-"
"Enough with the weak old man," she told him with an annoyed voice. "It's rather sad actually and don't bother denying it. I have friends who owe me favors. I'm very well acquainted with the women at the brothels and if you tell anyone this and believe me when I say that I will find out if you do tell then I will slowly cut you open, gut your arties out-only the ones that don't bleed as much, and I will make you eat your own skin."
"What you do want?" he asked, fear in his eyes as the crowd cheered behind her and laughed.
"I want many things, but you're not apart of them actually. I want to know why I keep on getting headaches every time I linger on the memories I've forgotten. It feels like something is hammering it's way inside of my head."
"I warned him, my lady," Pycelle whispered when he leaned closer towards her, his voice hushed.
"Warned him?"
"Ser Jaime." He answered. Maya's eyes found Jaime's as he was looking towards them, probably trying to figure what they were discussing so secretly. "I told him that if he were to push like he did when he brought you to the place after your wedding and rushed all of the horrific events of your family onto your mind all at once then…"
"Then what?" she asked coldly.
"There have been recent findings-experiments if you will that claim if a person suffering amnesia were to gain too much on of their memory all in one seating then two things would happen…one, the person would be in a loop of time…forgetting the events that occurred each day and then the next day it would happen again and again and again."
"And let me guess that the second one involves death, right?"
"The brain would not be strong enough to take in new information especially if it were damaged."
"I remember bits and pieces." She confessed.
"What exactly do you remember?"
Maya opened her mouth to answer, but a scream stopped her. They both looked towards where Joffrey was holding onto his throat as he looked to begin to choke, but this didn't look like any kind of choking. Maya watched as Cersei screamed his name and the Tyrells shouted at men to help their king, but like Maya thought…no one wanted to help the king that had starved, beaten, lied to them.
They wanted Joffrey to die.
Jaime watched in horror as his sister held onto her son, frantically trying to save him, but he knew that it was poison that the boy had consumed. They're were so many people that wanted to kill Joffrey that it was hard to tell who did it because each of his enemies held no expression, but "sadness". Blood spilled out of his nose as dark purple spider veins began to crawl onto his skin and his eyes became badly bloodshot to where you could see the pure blue color of his eyes. He looked like he was being strangled by an invisible beast.
Jaime suddenly knew which poison had taken its toll on Joffrey. The Strangler was the worst and most painful poison to ever give someone. It's said to feel like something is slowly pulling your organs out and ripping them apart into little pieces…never ending pain.
Blotchy skin became engrossed into Joffrey as his shaking fingers pointed directly at Tyrion. Jaime became immediately shocked, already believing that Tyrion could not do something this cruel or wicked-
Jaime stopped himself and his head shot up as he looked frantically around for his wife, Maya. He looked towards the steps where she was talking to Pycelle, but found that he was now alone and also glancing around, seeming to be looking for her.
She couldn't…no…she's not as wicked as she wants people to believe…right?
Joffrey strangled out something that no one was able to hear, but Cersei strained to hear it. Before he could say anything, he fell limp into his sister's arms as tears fell down her cheeks. She sobbed hysterically, "My son! My little boy!"
Then her head snapped up towards Tyrion, growling, "You did this! You poisoned my son!"
Tyrion looked confused for a moment and that cleared any of Jaime's doubts that Tyrion poisoned Joffrey thus killing him which only meant one thing…he was being framed by someone powerful and clever. He couldn't help, but doubt the woman he loved now, wondering if she did the dark act or not. If so then this would almost make the Lannisters and Starks even.
"TAKE HIM! TAKE HIM! TAKE HIM! TAKE HIM!" She kept on yelling angrily then stared sadly down at her son in her arms. "BRING MAYA STARK TO ME! FIND HER! I WANT HER DEAD!"
Men seized Tyrion by the shoulders and Jaime wished that he could do something, but he couldn't especially not when Cersei was psychotic at the moment.
"Find the Stark girls! Bard the city gates," His father commanded. "No one leaves the Capital!"
Where are you, Maya, he asked himself. Did you-Could you have done this?
. . .
Sansa panted heavily as she ran down the many steps and pathways, running away from the scene laid before her. Joffrey was dead, she thought…I am free.
"A little further, my lady," he said, stilling panting.
Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, her blood pumping and mind fearful of being caught and beaten again. Sansa didn't worry for her sister since she had made it clear that she didn't care for her after all. Sansa regretted what she said to her sister…when she thought that she had died; Sansa didn't want that to be their last conversation which was so full of hate. In truth, her sister had been right about Tyrion, he never touched her. He always respected her and made sure that her every need was meant and that he would always try to talk to her when he somehow knew that there was something wrong. He tried to make it right, but failed terribly when her family died.
They walked deeper into the town, the walls becoming higher and higher as they went down. They began to turn into tunnels and soon they were below the Capital with a row boat waiting for them. Sansa quickly pulled up her hood and froze on the steps when she saw Maya standing there, waiting.
"What took you so long," she asked the man sternly.
"My apologies. We were almost caught by the guards. They're closing the gates so that no one can leave," he explained.
"I expected as much." Maya said then looked to Sansa. "Lord Baelish is waiting for you on a boat not far away. He'll take you away and protect you since I cannot right now."
"I don't understand," Sansa said softly, shaking her head. "I thought you didn't care about me."
Maya walked closer to her and held her upper arms tightly, promising, "I could never hate you or not care about you. You are my weakness and if they found out that I care then they will kill you and use you, do you understand?" Sansa nodded hastily. "I can't risk losing you…you're all I have left, Sansa."
Sansa felt tears in her eyes as she realized that this might be the last time she would ever see her sister for a long time. This was their good-bye. Maya blinked away her tears and sniffled. "I need to go. They'll cause heads to roll. Joffrey was just the beginning."
"What do you mean?"
"He was the puppet I intended to find the puppeteer who's the pulling the strings. You must keep yourself hidden. Do not mention who you really are. It is crutial that you do, Sansa. Promise me."
"I promise, May," Sansa whispered then wrapped her arms around her neck and holding on tight while she stood could. Maya returned the hug just as tightly. "I will miss you so much."
"As will I, sister. He'll keep you safe and I'll always know where you are…I have friends everywhere it seems. All you have to say is this," Maya leaned in and whispered the words in her ear.
Sansa nodded. "I understand."
"Good. I've already informed, Littlefinger the things I will do to him if you are harmed in any way.
"How?" Sansa asked.
Their conversation flashed through her mind as Maya thought of an answer to give to her sister.
"I know who you are, Lord Baelish," Maya said as she sat on the beach in the gardens, hidden away from eavesdroppers.
"Excuse me, but who exactly am I?"
"You're X," she said simply with a smirk. "I remember someone whispering in my ear about you. I put the pieces together and an equation came up which was easily solvable."
Lord Baelish sighed in defeat. "You want something from me. I can see it in your eyes."
Maya chuckled. "You're right…I do. I want you to escort my sister out of King's Landing-somewhere safe and don't tell me where, but just know that I will be able to find her…and you if you should fail."
"And what makes you think that I would agree to such a thing?"
"You won't do it for me because I am my father's daughter, but my sister is my mother's daughter. You would've done anything for her and now you will do the same for my sister. If you should fail then you can be sure that I will get fish hooks, hook them onto your skin as they hang from the ceiling, and then I will pull them so that you're slowly skinned alive."
"You're bluffing," he replied.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "The Mad King burned people alive when pissed off and you know what I did to Ser Meryn Trant all because he beat my sister and I, what do you think I am going to do you if you cross me and get in my way because I can sure as hell tell you that you definitely won't be burning as an easy getaway from a suffering death."
Lord Baelish seemed worried for a moment then he quickly hid it behind his mask. "When should this happen?"
"Just before the party."
"He knows who I am and of what I am capable of, Sansa," Maya responded when she came back from the flashback.
Sansa was helped into the boat and the man came inside, rowing them away as Maya watched impassively. Sansa gulped and noticed that her sister was officially playing the game of thrones…and it frightened her greatly since father, Robb, and mother had all played the game with the Lannisters, they had victories and defeats, but they lost the game when they died and their blood coated the swords that were stuck in their bodies.
Maya waited until she couldn't see the boats anymore before walking up the stairs and back to the castle. People watched her, whispering about her as she causally walked inside the keep as if nothing had happened. Joffrey was dead. Winter came from behind her and strolled beside her, protecting her from any threats. A small smirk came onto her face as she felt proud of her wolf.
She watched as three guards spotted her and ran to her immediately.
"Lady Maya, you are hereby not permitted to leave the Capital until Lord Tywin says so."
Maya watched as they tried to seize her which made her roll her eyes then she quickly tripped the middle one who became unconscious that minute he hit the steps. She grabbed the other twos' heads and slammed them together as she kicked their knees making them fall to their ground, clutching either their neck or knees which popped out when twisted the wrong way.
Let the games begin, she thought as a swarm of gods came marching furiously toward with a perfuse
TBC…
TBC…
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