It was a warm, muggy night. The clouds were abundant; the fire from the lamps burned bright, and Mother's voice was pleasant and soft. Cara, a beautiful girl whose eighth name day was almost upon her, sat in Mother's lap with a smile and looked up with dreamy green eyes as Mother continued her story.
"And the lion said to the stag, Hear my words, be wary of where you stray, for my kindness has limits, and my patience wears thin."
Cara giggled, "I hope the lion eats the stag. He's very foolish."
"Yes," Mother said, smiling down at her child, tucking a strand of Cara's long blonde hair behind her ear. "The stag is very foolish, but the lion does not eat the stag."
"Why doesn't he? The stag should be punished for what he's done." Cara whined. Her smile vanished as she lifted her head to get a better look at Mother's face.
"You're absolutely right, he should be punished."
"Then why hasn't he?"
"Because the lion needs the stag," a small voice answered not far from them.
The pair looked at the small figure resting by the fireplace, her strange eyes staring deep into the flames. Mother looked at her other daughter as Blaire, a reckless girl of six, glanced at the pair of them. Her dark hair was short, making her look like a boy. The scratches and cuts on her pale skin from climbing trees and picking fights with other children only encouraged that image, which Mother did not approve of. Still, as Blaire's blue and green eyes looked into her own, she couldn't hold onto any enmity for her child's wildness.
Mother smiled a small smile, and nodded, "That's right, Blaire. In a way, the lion does need the stag."
"Why would the lion need him? He is stupid, mean, and he almost got the lion's family killed!" Cara shouted, pulling away from Mother's embrace to stand before her, nearly falling to the ground as she did.
"Shush darling, shush" Mother tried to soothe her, but Cara resisted.
"Why would the lion need the stag?!" she shouted, almost screaming.
"Because the stag rules the forest," Blaire once again answered and looked to Mother for confirmation.
Mother didn't say anything, but her silence was answer enough.
"Why does the stag rule," Cara was livid at Mother and Blaire's interaction. "Why doesn't the lion rule the forest?"
"Because lions don't belong in the forest, they belong in places with wide open spaces where they can show their dominance," Blaire said, and Cara turned her anger towards Blaire.
"I want Mother to answer!"
"Hush darling" Mother stood from her chair and pulled Cara back into her embrace. Once more, Cara resisted and pushed passed Mother in order to get the door. She moved briskly, her back stiff, and fists clenched. Her legs faltered just before she reached the door, and fell against the hardwood before she opened it, and took one last look at Mother and Blaire.
"Lions don't kneel to stags, they eat them."
She slammed the door behind her with her parting message left hanging in the air. Mother was disappointed in Cara's tantrum, but instead of leaving to comfort her, she turned towards Blaire. She was looking into the fire once more, her arms wrapped loosely around her legs as they touched her chest. Her chin rested on her knee as she stared into the flames, completely unaware of the world.
"Don't get to close, it'll burn you." Mother said as she knelt gracefully to sit at Blaire's side.
"The Targaryen's didn't burn" Blaire mumbled.
"Do you know why they didn't burn?"
"Because they were dragons," Blaire answered, and Mother smiled.
"Yes my sweet, in a way they were."
"But they're gone now," Blaire continued, her voice firm while her eyes were sad.
"Yes, your father saw to that many years ago." She placed a warm hand on Blaire's shoulder, and Blaire finally looked away from the flames to Mother's face.
"They were bad, right? They hurt someone very close to him?"
"Yes they did" Mother nodded and touched Blaire's chin, wanting to keep eye contact with her.
"Do you know why the lions left the open spaces for the forest?" Mother asked as her green eyes stared intensely into Blaire's strange ones.
"There was nothing left to rule where they were, all the animals fled to the forest where the stag was king."
"So why would the lion go to the forest?"
"To take his Kingdom back," Blaire realized, "and he needs the stag to trust him in order to do so."
"You are so smart my darling" she smiled, petting Blaire's hair before kissing her forehead. "Have you been in the maester's books again?"
"No," Blaire said quickly, her eyes quickly looking away to the window.
Mother raised an eyebrow and Blaire relented with "maybe once or twice."
"You know I don't want you to be in his chambers."
"I know." Blaire shrugged.
"He isn't a good person, that is why you need to stay away-"
"I do stay away from him, but his books are not always with him." Blaire interrupted and smiled at Mother's stumped expression.
"You are ever resourceful my sweet." Mother relented, petting her short hair.
"I have to be if I ever want to be anything."
"But you are someone" Mother's voice was riddled with surprise. She was about to continue when the door opened once more, and Father stepped through the threshold smiling that big oafish smile that made Mother grind her teeth, and Blaire scream "Papa!"
"Blaire!" his booming voice sounded through the room as he opened his muscular arms. Blaire pushed herself from the floor and sprinted towards him. He picked her up with his strong arms and threw her into the air, catching her before she hit the ground. He held her tight in his embrace as his thick beard tickled her face, making her laugh.
Father was a big, tall man with a long, thick black beard that smelled of wine and held crumbs of food. His eyes were the color of faded blue, and the skin of his hands was tough, scarred, and weathered. His strong arms bristled with his astounding strength, muscles still rippling from training earlier in the day. He would often catch Blaire watching him train, and when he did he would always beckon her to him. He would hold her close and whisper in her ear, "This is how you do it, girl" and step away to knock his sparring partner down with a swing of his hammer. It always made Blaire excited, especially when he let her hold his battle ax, which was far too big for a girl of six to hold but hold it she did.
Mother stood from her place on the ground and stared at the pair of them. She showed no sign of emotion as her green eyes observed, but jealousy and loathing were hard to contain when you couldn't make your own daughter smile in that way. Her long, fair hair reached her waist, and her small body appeared even more so in Father's presence. Her robes were gold and blue, and her beautiful face glowed in the firelight. One small consolation Mother felt as she stared was Blaire's left eye that bared Mother's green color and the beauty of her pale face. She might have Father's spirit, but there was no denying that Blaire was indeed her child just as much as Cara and her other children were.
"Where have you been Papa?" Blaire asked.
He laughed his booming laugh, "On the hunt, we'll be having boar tonight." He laughed again as he turned, and carried her out into the golden hall, leaving Mother to follow.
"Where's your sister?"
"Her room, she didn't like the story Mother was telling tonight."
"You" he pointed to one of the guards outside of the room they vacated, who stood at attention when called upon.
"Fetch Cara, she and her Mother will be joining us for dinner tonight." He commanded, nodding towards Mother in his command.
The guard bowed his head and pressed on with Mother, who gave one last fleeting glance at Blaire, who didn't spare her a second look.
Father talked to Blaire all about the hunt, going into detail about how he killed the boar with his bare hands as he carried her all the way to the banquet hall. He laughed his booming laugh, and she joined him happily. It was good to see Father when he wasn't in one of his moods, moods where he's louder than usual and harder to understand because his words blended together, and very red in the face. His face was clear tonight, and his words were crisp in his bellowing voice. Blaire felt oddly hopeful for tonight; dinners with Father didn't always go according to plan.
They entered the banquet hall and arrived to see the grand table arranged with a great feast. The food was still hot, the steam billowing out from the boar presented before them. Father set Blaire on her feet, and she ran to take the seat closest to him. He pulled out her chair and pushed it in for her once she was sitting.
"Dig in," he boomed with a smile as he took his seat. Blaire had just grabbed a peach from the fruit platter when she noticed that they weren't alone in the room.
Two men stood not far from where they sat. Blaire noticed that both were tall with an air of royalty about them. One was a balding man with fair hair and a large belly that was covered with golden robes hinted with blue, adorned with equally gold roses. His expression was pompous, and his gaze was one of studious measurement, one that Blaire did not welcome. The other was leaner, more rugged, and very handsome. His eyes wandered around the room, glancing at Blaire repeatedly as his fingers played with something shiny, and sharp.
Blaire was still eating the peach while she watched Father tear apart the boar. He placed a piece of it on her plate, along with the plates set for Mother and Cara. He saved the biggest portion for himself and almost swallowed it whole with his glass of wine. Blaire started on another peach, staring curiously at the rugged man, who was beginning to intrigue her with his rugged look when Mother and Cara finally arrived.
Cara's wide face was red from crying. Her green eyes stuck out through the redness on her cheeks, her long fair hair fell in the same waves as Mother's. Her slight frame huddled against Mother's as they approached the table hand in hand. Blaire noticed from her observation that the pompous, balding man stared eagerly at Cara, while the rugged man didn't even glance at her, his eyes now solely resting on Blaire, which she didn't find very comforting.
While Cara had Mother's fair hair, Blaire had Father's, but as many have said, they both inherited Mother's beauty. Blaire wasn't sure what that meant, but somehow she was sure she wasn't going to like it someday. Her eyes held both colors from her parents, her right eye blue while her left eye was green. She was a bit taller and thinner than Cara, who was shorter and squattier. She showed more of Father in her build, while Blaire favored Mother.
One would think that Cara would be like Father when it comes to physicality, but she wasn't. She couldn't walk anywhere without someone there to help her. Her legs didn't work very well, the maester said it had something to do with the muscles, and how they didn't form properly while in Mother's womb. Meanwhile, Blaire was often caught climbing walls, jumping from great heights, shooting arrows into targets that she carved into the trees in the Godswood, and fighting with wooden swords with local boys. Not a day would go by that she wasn't chastised by Mother, but like with his training sessions, Father would always encourage her to do more, so she did. It brought Blaire closer to Father, and oddly enough it brought her closer to Mother too. It made Cara incredibly jealous. Though she was their first born, she knew that Blaire was their favorite, and it always made her angry whenever they gave Blaire the attention that she so richly desired.
Mother took her place next to Father, and Cara took her place beside her, directly across from Blaire. Once seated they merely looked at the food for a good moment before attempting to eat. Father didn't seem to notice or simply didn't care as he started to talk again. The pompous man started forward, while the rugged man stayed put.
"Great things are happening girls, great things indeed."
"What do you mean Father?" Cara asked in a soft voice, completely unaware of the other men in the room.
"Why your name day of course" Mother interjected, giving Father a reproachful look.
He ignored her, "No, I'm talking about the Ironborn. Reports have said they're growing restless on their damn island."
"Children don't need to hear about that filth" Mother stated, and Father in return gave her a look of warning.
"Papa, who are those men," Blaire asked curiously, taking the last bite from the peach as Father stiffened.
"An excellent question, darling don't you have something else you would like to discuss with the girls?" Mother tried a bit more firmly, and this time Father appeared to listen.
"I suppose we'll get to the Ironborn in a bit. Girls, your Mother and I have something to tell you."
He stopped eating, which Blaire knew to be a bad sign. She looked to Cara, and while she looked furiously at her, she could tell that Cara was just as nervous as she was. Father cleared his throat and took another drink from his goblet. Mother stood from her chair, leaving her food untouched as she walked to stand behind him. The pompous man was now a few feet from the table, and the rugged man leaned against the wall, staring intensely at Blaire.
"Your Father has decided that you both will be leaving soon in order to grasp a better understanding of the seven kingdoms." She paused, letting the news sink in before continuing, her voice wavering. "It will be a long journey, one that I'm afraid either of you will return from for some time."
"What?" Blaire was completely taken aback by the news. Cara too looked stunned, and very scared, which made the situation much worse.
"Cara will be journeying to Highgarden, where she will stay with the Tyrell's and learn to become a proper lady fit for a lord." Father didn't look at her when he spoke his command, but he did look to Blaire with sad eyes.
"I don't want to leave Mother!" Cara shouted shrilly, attempting to stand only to fall back in her chair.
Mother tried to move towards her, but Father grabbed her by the arm and forced her into place.
"Don't, this needs to be done," Father growled, and while Mother stayed in place, though this time she couldn't hide her feelings of disgust and fury. He released her from his grasp as he nodded to the pompous man, and he took his place behind Cara, who looked frightened as she looked behind her chair to see him so close to her.
"Blaire," Father continued, "Your journey will start in Dorne, where you will stay with the Martells."
Blaire took one last look at the rugged man, finding his eyes never wavered from her face, and glared at Father in disbelief, refusing to speak.
"It'll be fine Blaire," Father spoke when she didn't respond.
Blaire didn't think as she pushed away from the table, knocking the chair behind her, only reacted when she saw the pompous man place a hand on her sister's shoulder.
"Sit down Blaire" Father commanded in his bellowing voice, but Blaire no longer cared to listen. She grabbed fruit from the platter and threw it in the pompous man's face. He shouted as it collided with his eyes. She climbed onto the table and threw herself at him, punching him in his fat face as they fell to the ground. She landed on top of him and kept punching him as he screamed, trying to cover his face with pitiful success.
"Run Cara!" Blaire shouted to Cara's frightened face, her eyes wide with shock when Blaire felt strong hands at her waist and was suddenly pulled away from the now bleeding bald man. Father threw her away from him and she fell hard to the ground, the impact briefly stunning her as she rolled to her feet and stood defiantly. Father was furious, Mother was stunned, Cara was stumbling away, the pompous man was crying and bleeding from his nose and the rugged man was now smiling with glee, no longer leaning against the wall as he rose to stalk closer to Blaire's unaware form.
"What is the bloody meaning of this!?" Father shouted, his eyes wild with rage.
"How could you do this" Blaire shouted back to him, anger welling up in her chest. "How could you let a man like that take Cara away from her home?"
"It's what needs to be done!"
"If sending a scared child who can barely walk into a place that holds a man like him is what's needed then I want no part of it!"
"You will do as you're told, or I will force you to do so!"
"Like you did with Mother? Hurting her so she'll do your bidding?!" Blaire challenged him, pointing to Mother, who looked taken aback and for a brief moment, proud of her daughter in spite of the chaos around them.
"You are going to Dorne and you will be leaving tomorrow! Make your peace with that!"
"Never," Blaire said, grabbing another piece of fruit and throwing it at his face before grabbing a knife. Before either realized what was happening, Blaire used the knife in a steady hand and grazed Father's waiting hand with its sharp edge. His eyes blazed with pain and shock, and before he could blink, Blaire moved, and this time the knife hit its mark. Above his right knee, Blaire's knife stabbed Father in the thigh, and he howled as his bleeding hand struck Blaire's face, and sent her flying once more.
This time, Blaire didn't touch the ground; instead, she was caught by another pair of strong arms that wrapped themselves tightly around her, trapping her in his firm embrace and forcing her to be still.
The rugged man smirked as she struggled in his grasp. It wasn't because he wanted to hurt her; he wanted a fighting spirit, and in Blaire, he found one. He was reluctant to come here because the last thing he wanted to deal with was a simpering fool who was too weak to stand on her own. Now, his fears had been dashed, and he was relieved and excited at the prospect Blaire was going to be.
Father whirled towards Blaire, pulling the knife from his leg as he looked at her defiant face with rage.
"How dare you-" Father started.
"How dare you!" Blaire interrupted, still struggling against her captor. "How can you call yourself our father if you're willing to send us away like we're nothing?"
"Because it's what must be done" he growled, throwing the knife away from him, the blood spattering along the floor as it landed on the mortar. "In time you'll understand".
"I wish the Targaryens killed you, and burned you alive with their dragons!" Blaire shouted, and the rugged man stilled at her comment, looking warily up at the King.
Father's rage couldn't be contained to merely stand there in the silence left after Blaire's insult. He turned away from her, grabbed hold of the grand table, and flipped it. His wine went flying, spraying Mother and the still bleeding pompous man. The food splattered all along the floor, with the dishes clattering all throughout the room.
Father turned back to look at Blaire's captor, his eyes red with rage.
"Take her now; I want her on Dornish soil and training by first light."
With that Father turned and cursed as he left the room, limping as blood trickled down his leg, leaving a trail in his wake as he yelled and screamed like a wounded boar.
Blaire fought harder, only to be thwarted as the rugged man whispered, "You are in no danger of me Princess," and turned her abruptly to face his rugged, handsome face.
Blaire was ready to hit him, just as she did with the pompous man when the rugged man surprised her. He released one of his hands from her shoulders and held the shiny object he had been playing with when she first saw him. It was a tiny dagger, one that could easily be concealed in one's hand, and it glistened beautifully in the candlelight. It surprised Blaire enough that she stopped struggling for the moment, and the rugged man took the opportunity.
"A fighter must always find a weapon in combat; while a warrior is never without one. Which are you, my Princess?"
"I'm not a Princess" Blaire mumbled, absently reaching for the dagger, but the rugged man pulled it away from her.
"Of course you are, or else I wouldn't be here whisking you off to Dorne."
"Then I'm definitely not a princess." Blaire glared at the rugged man, trying to pull away once more, but he held on tight.
"You are Blaire, and you will soon be one that not even I would want to contend with."
"Why?"
"Your sister" he gestured his head towards Cara, who was being led out of the room by the guards with the bleeding pompous man being helped behind her, "is being taken by Lord Tyrell to live with his family in order to become a real lady."
"That doesn't make sense; she can learn to become a lady here, so why send her away?"
"Good question now let me counter it with one of my own. Why send the two eldest daughters and keep the rest of the litter here?" He asked, staring imploringly at her.
"The rest are just babies. They still need Mother to survive."
"Yes, but why is there a need to send any of the children away at all?"
Blaire pondered his question, her need for escape momentarily forgotten as more guards came into the room. Before they could make their way towards Blaire, the rugged man stopped them with a fierce look and turned his attention back to Blaire.
"The Ironborn" Blaire answered, and the rugged man smiled, "Mother didn't want Father to talk about them."
"What about the Ironborn?"
"They're doing something, something bad."
"So why would The King send his eldest daughters away?"
"So they can't get us?"
"Yes, so they can't hurt you."
"But why separate us?"
"Possibly because it's harder to get both of the King's daughters when they are going in separate directions" The rugged man answered Blaire, showing her the dagger again as he continued, "or maybe there's another purpose for the separation?"
"Why am I going with you?" Blaire looked curiously at the rugged man, and he smiled.
"Which are you, my Princess? A fighter, or a warrior?" he asked, holding out the tiny dagger to her once more.
She didn't answer his question, only stared at the silver dagger in his hand. She had more questions, ones that he seemed keen to answer, but that didn't mean she wanted to leave with him. Blaire glanced behind her, and she didn't see an opening or any way she could pass the guards.
She was surrounded.
The rugged man sensed her apprehension. He turned the dagger over in his fingers and placed the hilt into her hand. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of it in her hand, and she looked into his dark eyes. He saw the beginning of trust there, and he intended to capitalize on it.
He released her from his grasp, and backed away a step or two to give her space, his eyes never straying from hers as he returned to his kneeling position.
"That's an interesting mark upon your hand; I suspect you were born with it?" He mentioned offhandedly, his eyes measuring her response.
Blaire looked at her right hand that held the dagger. On the inside of her palm was a birthmark in the shape of a spiral. Dark red in color it stood out from the pink flesh of her skin. She also had another birthmark in the shape of wings on the back of the same hand. It bared the same red color as the spiral, and it always made the local boys laugh. They would always point at her and call her a slave that's run a long way from home (slaves' bared tattoos on their skin for their occupation). It was part of the reason why she had gotten into so many fights with the local boys, and why Father often encouraged it.
Blaire shrugged yet glared at him in defiance, daring him to insult her. He grinned instead and nodded with approval.
"You're far more than I expected sweet princess-" he was saying, but Blaire took a step forward and interrupted him.
"I am neither sweet nor a princess." She gripped the dagger tightly in her hand.
"Your Father is the King; therefore, you are the princess."
She began to refute him, but this time he cut her off.
"If you are not a princess, then what are you?"
Blaire paused, thinking about it before answering, "Me".
"What are you, young Blaire?" He took a step forward, staring deep into her eyes. "Who is Blaire Baratheon?"
Blaire thought about it for another moment. She straightened her back and stared deep into the rugged man eyes as she took a purposeful step close to him.
"A fighter who doesn't need a title, or anyone to take care of her," and with that, she moved.
He caught her hand before the dagger could slice his face, but he was unable to dodge the kick aimed towards his groin. She connected easily, and it stunned him, leaving him wheezing. It wasn't enough to release the hold on her hand, so she used her moment to bite into the flesh of his wrist. It didn't work like she hoped, instead it distracted him the pain in his groin as he stood, and slung her over his shoulder, causing her to release him immediately.
"Let me go!" she screamed, pounding her fists on his back when she noticed the dagger was gone.
"Be careful when you choose your opponent's sweet princess, you have a lot to learn before taking on someone like me." The rugged man was walking towards the exit, holding her tight as she continued the onslaught of punches to his back.
The guards suddenly surrounded them and walked with them as the rugged man took her out of the room, and down the long golden halls. They moved quickly and swiftly, almost jumping down the numerous steps that led to the ground floor of the castle. The rugged man never stopped, and the guards soon found themselves racing to keep up with him.
Meanwhile, Blaire's punches were losing their sting, and soon she was struggling for breath. Despite that, she didn't stop, stubbornly continuing her abuse though she was quickly losing strength to carry on. The rugged man sensed this but pushed further on for a moment more until they reached the entrance to the castle. He quickly set her down on the ground but kept his grip as she tried to make another run for it.
"Blaire, remember what we talked about?"
He grabbed her chin gently so she would look at him and listen to him, and was happy to see that she did. She fought to catch her breath while he spoke to her.
"Your Father doesn't want you here, Blaire." Her eyes went wide with his statement, and he felt her freeze within his grasp.
"He doesn't want me?" she mumbled, and the rugged man hesitated, wondering what was best to do when the King and Queen finally arrived.
The rugged man noticed the Queen's severe expression, and the King's tear stained cheeks as he limped forward towards Blaire. She didn't spare them a look, her eyes focused only on the rugged man.
"Time to go," Father said gruffly, standing tall as he lumbered over to Blaire with Mother at his side. He reached out to her, but she shirked away from his touch, her eyes showing hurt and anger.
"Darling" Mother stepped up close, and the rugged man moved as she kneeled before her, gently taking her face in her graceful hands.
"Blaire please look at me" Mother pleaded with her, caressing her cheek as her eyes began to flood with tears.
Blaire too had trouble keeping the tears at bay, but succeed she did, taking deep breaths to calm herself as she looked into her Mother's worried eyes.
"I need you to listen to me for we don't have much time left." Mother whispered urgently, and leaned in close to Blaire's ear, talking so softly that not even the rugged man could hear her. The King grew impatient and looked at the rugged man expectantly. He didn't heed the King's warning; instead, he watched Blaire's face, measuring her expression as the Queen continued her whispers. Blaire's strange eyes only widened once, right as the Queen finished her secret words with her.
Mother pulled away to look deep into Blaire's eyes, particularly the green one, once more caressing the cheek beneath it.
"You are so strong, my sweet." Mother hugged her daughter one last time. The rugged man heard her say "Don't forget what I've told you, promise me. Promise me you won't forget."
She pulled away to look into Blaire's eyes one last time, and instead of answering, Blaire merely nodded, not looking at Mother. The Queen placed a kiss on her forehead, and finally released her daughter, backing away until she was side by side with the King.
"Get her out of here," The King said gruffly to the rugged man when Blaire still refused to look at him.
Blaire didn't struggle as the rugged man placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and guided her away from The King and Queen. She moved in sync beside him, her fists clenched and shoulders stiff. They moved quickly through the entrance of the castle, and quicker still through the city streets.
Not once did Blaire try to run, causing suspicion to rise within the rugged man. He was waiting for her move, some attempt at escape once more. She remained beside him in spite of his suspicion. It made him weary, but also curious. There was more to this girl than meets the eye, and he was determined and impatient to find out.
Blaire didn't know what to do, or what to think. She was being taken; taken from her home, from her family, from all the memories that she made here within the walls of this castle. Mother's goodbye was as confusing as it was heartless, and Blaire found it hard to keep the tears at bay. She focused on the one thing she could do in her darkest moment, keep moving.
Out the entrance and deep into the heart of the city they went. Countless faces stared at the guards as they passed. The rugged man placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and kept it there as they continued onward. Never slowing, never ceasing, and never flinching as they moved through the mass of people in the streets of Kings Landing. When Blaire finally came to her senses, they arrived at the harbor, and the ship was ready to set sail.
The rugged man felt Blaire hesitate. He briefly changed course and stopped with her at the edge of the port. Then he kneeled before her and stared deep into her eyes.
"I know this is scary, but what is happening now is best for what is to come tomorrow."
"What will come tomorrow?"
"A new home, a new life, and most importantly" he paused, revealing the dagger once more. He placed it back in her shaking hand, holding it tightly, "a chance to show the world who you truly are, my princess."
"Do you really think I can?"
"Doesn't matter what I think, it matters what you know, what you know deep in your heart, a place so deep that no one could ever change it."
Her strange eyes looked lost, but her mouth was firm as she stared into the rugged man's eyes. He smiled encouragingly, unable to stop himself from petting her short, tuft hair.
"Why is your hair like this?"
"The boys kept pulling on it whenever they tried to fight me. It was the only thing they could do to stop me from bloodying them."
The rugged man laughed, "Smart," he paused for a moment before asking, "How long was it before?"
Blaire didn't speak; she gestured to her shoulder and shrugged.
"Not the first time you cut it?"
"It gets in the way"
The rugged man smiled, gently grabbing her tuft hair, "From now on your hair will grow, and will not be cut."
"Why? You just said it was smart-"
"It was smart for the boys to use it against you, but it was not smart of you to cut it."
"But it helped me-"
"By cutting your hair, the only advantage those boys had over you, they won anyway."
"How?"
"Because by cutting your hair you admitted defeat, you showed them that they got to you, and you had to change, to lower yourself to their level to defeat them."
"I lowered myself by cutting my hair?"
"Yes, sweet princess. You showed weakness."
"I don't believe you."
"I have been nothing but honest with you since we have met, and I promise you I'll continue to be nothing but honest with you. So why would you not believe me?"
"Because Mother has made the same argument as you and it's only getting more tiresome."
"What does The Queen say about it?"
"That just because I don't like it doesn't mean I should cut it. It's what the world sees that matters, and that's stupid."
"Ah" the rugged man nodded, finally understanding Blaire's stance. "You don't want to be what others see."
"All they see is a stupid girl that needs help doing everything. They think I'm like Cara, but I'm not!" Blaire was beginning to shout, and the rugged man calmed her by placing both hands on her shoulders.
"I know what you feel, Blaire."
"How?"
"Because we are much alike, you and I," he paused, glancing over towards the ships. "But now is not the right time for that story. It's time for us to go."
Blaire once again hesitated, but this time the rugged man didn't comfort her. He tightened his grip on her shoulder and pulled her along the harbor and towards the ship.
"It will be fine, Blaire. Soon enough you will be walking on Dornish sand, swimming through crisp waters, and smelling fresh air, not the shit that encapsulates this city." The rugged man steered her to the ramp connected to the ship.
Blaire froze at the edge, looking up with wide eyes and stiff shoulders. He rubbed her shoulders once more, and whispered in her ear, "It's alright to be afraid, it means you're smart. But the choice you face now will determine your fate, sweet princess. What will you do with the fear in your heart? Will you accept it, and use it to your advantage? Or will you deny it, and let it rule you?"
Blaire listened attentively, her eyes never straying from the wooden ramp. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath. With purposeful steps, she walked onto the ship. Shortly behind her, the rugged man grinned.
She stood at the edge looking out at the sea as the men started gathering around on the ship, readying themselves to set sail. Despite the fact that she was leaving home, and the knowledge that Father no longer wanted her, Blaire started to feel rather uneasy. A deep-seated feeling in her gut made her think that something was about to happen, something bad.
Near her, Blaire heard the rugged man barking orders at the men, and their response was immediate. In no time, the ship began to move away from the port and out into the black sea with surprising quickness. Blaire had the urge to look back at the city, at her home, but ultimately refused. Father didn't want her. Mother let him send her and Cara away like they were nothing. Because of that, Blaire decided that if they didn't want her, then she didn't want them.
She stayed in her spot for a long while, looking out amongst the view until she knew they had long left the city. The rugged man stayed near her all the while, never leaving her sight. At times he would go to yell at his men, telling them to continue with their duties or be thrown off the ship, only to return to her side with a small smile shortly after. Other times he would try to talk to her, but despite the plethora of unanswered questions buzzing through her mind, she refused and remained silent. It was when the rugged man tried to get her to talk once more that Blaire saw something peculiar in the distance.
"What is that?"
The rugged man's eyes narrowed at the sight, "It's a ship" he answered brusquely.
"Not one of yours?" Blaire guessed, but the rugged man didn't answer. Just as she saw the one ship, more started to emerge. Before she could blink, bright lights started flying up into the sky. Blaire briefly thought how pretty they looked when they suddenly started coming down. She had enough presence of mind to back away when fiery arrows struck the ship all around her, including the spot where she was just standing.
"They're here!" The rugged man pulled her roughly into his arms, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of his men throw a spear towards him, to which he caught with ease. He moved swiftly yet aggressively, shoving men out of his way until he reached the entrance to the bottom deck. "Go beneath the deck, and hide. Don't come out for anyone but me."
"What's happening?"
"Now is not the time for questions." He set her down and turned away towards his men, who were awaiting his command. Blaire grabbed his free hand and turned him back towards her.
"No, tell me what is happening!"
"Blaire-"
"You promised you would be honest with me, refusing to tell me something that could hurt me is not being honest!"
He kneeled before her, his eyes wild behind his otherwise cool expression.
"Those ships do not belong to me or anyone from my country, there has been threats made against you and your sister from the Ironborn, and you are now under my protection which means I refuse to let anything happen to you. This is a serious threat to us and against you, which means we must fight, and we must win. Now go beneath the deck and hide until I come to fetch you. Go!" He pushed her gently towards the entrance, and with a nod, she ran towards it, her newly gifted dagger tight within her grasp.
She jumped down the steps with ease, racing amongst the men as they readied themselves for the battle. Her eyes glanced around her surroundings, trying to find any good hiding spots as the men started shouting from up above. Finally, she saw a door that stood ajar and ran towards it. She suspected that this was the rugged man's room. It was lavish with reds and golds with an assortment of weapons on the ornate table under the window. She moved towards the weapons, finding most of them to be too big for her, leaving her only with her dagger. The shouting suddenly escalated, and the ship rocked as a loud crash sounded through her ears, sending the table of weapons crashing to the floor. Blaire had backed away just in time, trying to control her breathing when she heard a scream close to her.
She looked through the open door and saw a man on the ground near the steps leading up to the top deck. He was bleeding; his hands abandoned his weapon as another man came stalking down the steps.
"No," he pleaded, "NO!" he shouted once more as an ax plunged into his chest, a cruel laugh shadowing his wheezing breaths. The man kneeled down to his kill, spat in his face, and pulled the ax roughly from his chest, blood spurting out of him and spraying all over the floor. Blaire couldn't move, frozen in her spot as she watched the man stand once more, surveying his surroundings.
He too was rugged, Blaire noticed, though it was clear that this man did not come from royalty. His clothes were worn and frayed, yet she could tell they were far more durable than the rugged man's and his men. He was covered in blood, and even in Blaire's young mind, she knew it belonged to more than his most recent kill. His face was covered in more blood, dripping past his cold eyes, and into his mouth, which was smiling wickedly. Blaire realized a second too late that he was staring at her, and barely had enough time to react when he suddenly charged towards her.
She slammed the door in his face and rushed out of sight, careful to avoid the weapons as she raced to hide behind the fallen table. She didn't want to hide, but after realizing how easy it was for the rugged man to subdue her, she didn't want to give this man a chance, especially after seeing what he could do with his ax.
The door burst open with a crash, and the cruel laugh returned. She shrunk lower, hoping against hope he wouldn't be able to find her. She heard his steps close by, meaning he was in the room.
"Come on out, Princess. I know you're in here."
Blaire kept her mouth closed, her hand gripped tight around the dagger, fear rippling through her chest.
"Don't worry sweet one, I'm only here to fetch you. If you come with me, nice and easy, you'll be in no danger of me."
There was a soft thud, and Blaire risked a look, noticing he had just shut the door behind him. His cold eyes were full of malice and surveyed the room with equally cold calculation. She felt water on her face and looked up to find the window was now open, giving her hope.
"It's okay; you don't need to worry if you're having trouble moving. Just reveal yourself, and I'll come to fetch you and take you home. I promise."
In that instant, Blaire realized who the cold man was referring to. He thought she was Cara, and though escape was at her fingertips, Blaire's fear vanished with a surge of blinding hot anger. She gripped the dagger impossibly tight behind her back and roughly stood to her feet.
The cold man had his back turned to her, believing her to be hiding under the bed, and Blaire took advantage. She jumped over the table and shoved the dagger deep into the side of his leg. He shrieked as she pulled the dagger out and then ran towards the door. She opened it with ease. She turned back to see him struggling to stand, leaning on the bed for support.
"Looks like you're the one that needs help now." Blaire taunted and then slammed the door in his face. She turned to see more dead bodies around her, bloodied and maimed. She did her best to ignore them as she raced back upstairs to the top deck. She heard the cold man advance behind her, shouting with all his might as he raced to catch up with her, only to stumble among the slain bodies.
The top deck was on fire, a bloody massacre. Blaire briefly noticed corpses had amassed at the edge of the battlefield the ship had suddenly become before bravely running through the carnage. The cold man had made it up the stairs, his eyes deathly, roaring with anger as he charged after her once more. One of the rugged man's men suddenly rushed him, giving Blaire the chance to once again make a run for it.
Blood was flying, screams shot towards the sky, and Blaire raced towards the foremast in a desperate attempt to escape the cold man. She started climbing, which turned out to be a very bad idea for more reasons than one.
Firstly, it alerted every man, both the rugged man's and the cold man's, to her suddenly being on the top deck. Secondly, the foremast was not stable, and as she started to climb, she felt it shake beneath her. Thirdly, it was born out of desperation, which rarely meant it was actually a good idea.
Still, Blaire climbed up the trembling mast, attempting to escape battle below her.
"Blaire!" she heard the rugged man's voice. She looked down to see him right below her, his eyes enraged at the sight of her disobeying him. Further, in the distance, she saw the cold man, his smile matching his cruel eyes as he slaughtered yet another man, who fell lifelessly to his feet.
"Give it up Dornishman!" the cold man shouted to the rugged man, who displayed his spear in defiance. "She's coming with me!"
"No Greyjoy, she will not. For you will be dead before you touch her!" With that, he lunged.
As the two engaged in battle, Blaire watched, abandoning her climb in favor of observing the fight. She had to admit, they were incredible. Better than Father on his best day, and in Blaire's biased opinion, that was quite a feat. The cold man was aggressive, despite his cold eyes; he was fiery in his need to kill. The rugged man, on the other hand, was very fluid and moved with a swift coldness that conflicted with the man he presented himself to be, which unnerved Blaire. Despite the fact that the cold man was trying to take her, and potentially hurt her, Blaire surprisingly found it hard for her to decide who she wanted to win.
As she contemplated, a hand suddenly grabbed her foot and started pulling her from her frozen perch. She looked to see the hand belonged to a man wearing similar clothing as the cold man, which meant he wasn't pulling her to safety. She started kicking him with the foot he had in his grasp. It connected with his face and sufficiently bloodied his nose. He released her with a loud groan and she once again resumed climbing the mast, her pace hurried and frenzied.
Unfortunately, the mast had begun to crack from the damage that was done to it. Blaire continued, her gut telling her to keep going, despite the danger growing because of it. She climbed and she climbed until the mast finally snapped, and she fell with it. She held on as tight she could as the mast quickly came crashing down onto the ship, separating the fight between the cold man and the rugged man.
Blaire couldn't keep her grip as the mast impacted the ship, and she landed hard on a mass of bodies. She groaned in pain as she removed herself from the mass, covered in blood and guts and chips of wood. She stood tall, looking at the destruction around her, her breath coming in fast pants as she took everything in.
Up above her, the embers from the flames rose into the night sky, and Blaire found it utterly mesmerizing. She heard shouts in the distance, but she couldn't find it in herself to care as she looked at the carnage around her. She questioned the sight before her, finding it hard to believe that this was happening. But the strangest thing was that Blaire, despite everything that's happened, didn't feel scared. No, in fact, she felt somehow...alive. She couldn't explain why or how that was possible, but she had no time to ponder when the rugged man suddenly came into view, shaking her out of her reverie.
"Blaire!" he shouted as his eyes went wide as he came towards her. She felt herself move towards him in response, surprisingly happy that he was alive. She didn't understand the fear and sudden urgency in his expression. That was until she felt strong hands jerk her backward, and lift her into the air with such quickness she didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.
She tried to use the dagger to attack her capturer, but it was useless. Her arms were pinned to her sides; her dagger was pulled roughly from her grasp, leaving a stinging cut that left her hand burning hot from the pain. He forced her against his firm chest, his cruel laughter sounded away in her ear.
"I'm going to have fun with you." His voice was just as cruel as his laugh, and it sent chills down her spine.
She tried to fight, to find a way out of his grasp, but it was useless. She was stuck; he had her in an unbreakable hold. She was helpless.
He turned and ran towards a plank behind them, made his way across the waves that threatened to send them both into the water. Just as they made it halfway on the plank, he turned once more, his laughter growing as his hold on her tightened.
Blaire saw the rugged man standing at the edge of his ship. His eyes cold as he stared at the pair of them, his spear ready in his firm grasp. Blaire looked down, the waves roared beneath them, shooting upward towards Blaire, threatening to swallow her into the depths of the ocean. But Blaire realized, if the waves threaten to take her, it'll take him too.
She looked back to the rugged man, who hadn't moved from his spot.
"Come on you Dornish bastard! Make your choice! Will you let the King's daughter live with a Greyjoy, or die by the sea?" He laughed cruelly, his voice going low and gravelly as he shouted out his commands.
Amidst the sound of chaos all around them, Blaire could feel this eerie silence fall between them. Both men stared each other down, waiting to see who will break. Blaire, on the other hand, had other ideas. While he was distracted, she bit his hand hard, the taste of blood soon pouring into her mouth. He squealed in pain, and before she could move forward with her desperate and dangerous plan, she was struck on the back of her head. The last thing she saw before the blackness overtook her was the wooden plank racing towards her face, and the rugged man's yell sounding through the stormy air.