Milk Of The Poppy {Tyrion Lannister} [ON HOLD]

Chapter One

Young Morlyna Stark sat on the floor, her back pressed against the heavy door. Her knee ached where metal met flesh. She lifted the skirts of her dress and looked at the false leg that had been fashioned for her. The skin it was attached to was raw and ached. 

The ten-year-old cried in pain. The new leg was stronger and better built than her last but pained her more than anything. Her old one had been a soft wood, cushioned by furs. This one was metal, attached to her skin by pins, nothing to provide comfort. Little drops of blood seeped from the puncture wounds, trailing down the dark metal. Some of the blood had tried on her skin, leaving burgundy stains on her pale skin.

She thought perhaps, that once her tears dried, she might throw herself off the tower there in Winterfell. Perhaps her family's life might be better if she had. How disgraced her family must be to have a cripple as a daughter. The firstborn girl of Ned, who is supposed to be wedded before either of her sisters would be, but who would want only a partial girl as a wife? Then she thought of her father's kind eyes and Jon's soft features. Neither would wish her any harm so, she thought better of it.

She pried the metal pins from her skin and threw the steel leg away from herself. She pulled herself up onto her good leg and grabbed at the stone walls for support. The jagged stone dug into her palms slightly as she clung to them for support. The child slowly hopped as best she could towards her bed.

Falling on top of it, a book dug into her spine. It was a study on wars. A tool she used to distract herself from the pain. And she read, well into the night, soft candlelight illuminating the pages filled with information that most anyone else would ignore.

》》》

By the time Morlyna was sixteen, she had grown used to the pain the steel leg gave her. She learned to bite her tongue whenever she received stares from those around her. She refused to be hurt by the unsaid words. 

She walked beside her brother, Jon, in the Godswood. Red leaves rustled around them as he leg began to ache painfully. Jon noticed the small twitch of her eye, a silent indicator of her pain. He led her to a stump and gently pushed her to sit on it. He knew that she was too stubborn to admit when her leg pained her, even if she had grown used to it. She would never admit how much pain she was in. Not even as quiet tears rolled down her cheeks.

As she sat, she lifted the skirts of her dress and looked at the pins that held the leg to her flesh. A single pin had come loose. Gritting her teeth, she pushed the pin back into place, fresh blood welled up around it. The blood slid down her pale skin and onto the steel leg. A drop fell from the metal to the ground, splattering slightly as the warm blood hit the solid dirt. Jon turned away, the sight of blood still unnerving to the boy. When he looked back, Morlyna's skirts had been moved to recover her legs. Her dark hair had also been pulled back, revealing her pink-tinged cheeks from the cold.

Her skin was always so pale compared to the rest of the Starks. Perhaps it was because she was always bleeding, always in pain. Jon never brought it up. After awhile Jon offered her a hand to pull her back to her feet. She took it, and let her brother pull her up, despite her desire to remain seated.

"Would you like me to carry you, Lyna?" Jon offered when he noticed her taking slower steps than she had been previously.

She laughed, "No thanks. I'm not a child anymore. I can walk."
"You'll always be my little sister, though."
"Shut up, Jon. You're only older than me by a year." She laughed, "Besides, I think I can make it."

He held up his hands in a surrendering fashion. "As you wish, my Lady." She pushed him just hard enough for him to lose his balance.

He fell back into the snow and laughed. Jon stood and brushed the red leaves from his hair. He slung his arm around her shoulders.

"Come on dear sister, let's go get something to eat."