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MAIA kicked the air as two men lifted her from the ground, dragging her across the mud. She heard Rickon screaming her name while they pulled her from the Winterfell dungeon. She looked around, witnessing every area in the courtyard of Winterfell coated in Bolton banners. Different merchants and children begged for those around to buy their crops. Every inch of this place was filled with despair.
This was real. This was happening. Ramsay Bolton had total control.
The gates to Winterfell opened as Ramsay ordered his guards, "Throw her out." The men shrugged, immediately tossing the blonde into the mud when the entrance fully opened. "Don't forget about my message, Lady Maia!"
Maia lifted her head, mud and soot sliding down her face as she responded, "FUCK YOU!"
The doors closed instantaneously.
Maia hadn't noticed Ser Davos on his horse in front of the gates when she had fallen into the wet dirt. She looked up at the Onion Knight, witnessing a couple Wildling men behind him. Davos then knelt before her, smothering his pants with mud, and breathed out a heavy sigh. Maia couldn't stop herself from crying then, tears mixing with the sweat and soot on her face. She struggled with keeping the top of her dress closed, but in that moment, modesty meant nothing to her. "Lady Sanders," Davos shook his head and tried wiping away all that coated her features.
"He's terrible," she sobbed. "He's such a fucking, evil being."
Davos hoisted her up by her shoulders. "Did he ..." His eyes searched her, noticing every piece of clothing was not in tact. "Did he touch you?"
She nodded her head, slowly but he noticed it.
Ser Davos tilted her cheek, noticing a large bruise forming across the bone. The Wildlings behind him took a step closer when he looked over his shoulder at them. "Gather the horses together. We're leaving for Deepwood Motte."
•••
The ride wasn't too long of a journey. Maia hung her arms around Davos' waist as he rode their group slightly South. The land of Deepwood Motte wasn't exactly colder, but a lot more windy, Maia noticed. She lifted her head when Ser Davos said they were near, noticing the familiar color of bright red hair leaving the gates that adorned a large fist sigil: the symbol of House Glover.
Her face was hidden by Davos' cloak that he draped over her, but even twenty feet away, Jon saw her glowing features. He had been disappointed in House Glover's actions to not back them in a fight, though not as disappointed as Sansa was. But then the two siblings witnessed Ser Davos' arrival, and their spirits lifted. Sansa's plan had worked.
The Onion Knight was only a few feet away from the relatives and their army, but Jon was already running. Davos' horse halted to a short stop, allowing Jon to immediately pick Maia off the animal so she could fall into his arms. Her arms tightened around his as she felt the tears begin to form again. The muscles in her biceps gave her the strength to hold him with every fiber of her being. He held the back of her head, causing her to shelter it in the crook of his neck. She breathed him in, enjoying the smell of musk and snow instead of crusted blood.
