Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

Chapter XXXVII ''Nightmares of the past''

Despite Maelia's wounds, she returned to Dragonstone on her. She couldn't afford long journeys, she wanted to keep her finger on the pulse and make all important decisions. When she returned, it was already dark, but the soldiers on guard recognized her. They wanted to escort her to the castle, but she told them to continue their work.

Once inside, she removed her gloves and held them in one hand as she walked through the mostly empty corridors of the castle. It was only near her chamber that a voice from behind her caught her.

"Your Grace? Already back?"

She didn't stop, but slowed her pace and looked over her shoulder.

"Ser." normally she would probably ask him if he ever sleeps at all, but she wasn't in the mood and also saw that she probably had to wake him up because, among other things, his hair was ruffled and he didn't have a sword on his belt, he was holding it in his hand.

"Should I wake Missandei, Your Grace?"

"N-no, no, there's no need. You can go back to bed yourself, I can handle everything myself." she replied, forcing a smile, but he saw through it, but didn't say anything. If she needed to be left alone, then so be it. He nodded and left her.

She entered her room and closed the door behind her, immediately feeling its spaciousness overwhelming her again. She ignored it and threw her gloves somewhere on a dresser and started undressing. She folded her clothes and put them on the chair at the desk, only hanging her coat on the back. She picked up her nightgown from the bed and put it on. She was relieved to feel the light fabric after a long time in her day clothes.

While sitting on the bed, she unbraided her hair and put all the things that held her hair up on the bedside table.
She took a deep breath and finally closed her eyes, lying down on the soft mattress and only after a few moments of inaction, covering herself with the duvet.

On the verge of sleep, she could finally rest. Peace, no one or nothing was bothering her mind, no specters of the past or future, no gloomy thoughts.
She rolled over and covered herself more with the duvet. She didn't even imagine that some warm, strong arms were hugging her to sleep, giving her a sense of security, separating her from the cruel world. Now she was alone and she felt good in her solitude.

By the time...

She was in some stands in King's Landing, that's for sure. There were lots of people around her. In the middle of the stands there was a box in which she couldn't see who was sitting because it was covered by a red cloth.
She turned her gaze to the arena where two men were fighting each other. She quickly recognized them and her blood almost froze in her veins. She felt stress tightening her throat, as if she didn't know the end of this fight.

Oberyn Martell fought Gregor Clegane.

No... No, no, no, no, no... I don't want to be here...

She looked away, but her gaze kept coming back to the arena. Especially when she heard what Oberyn was shouting.

"You raped her! You murdered her! You murdered her children!"

Her uncle's spear repeatedly collided with the Mountain's sword, each time causing her to flinch and hold her breath. She was afraid to see the blow that killed him. She couldn't convince herself that it was just a dream, that it had already happened, that she had already experienced the news of his death.

Since it's a duel between Oberyn and the Mountain, it means the Lannisters are in the box. For sure, because who else? Visenya slowly rose from her seat in the stands and began to weave through the people to reach the box.