Clandestine. 》 Tyrion Lannister 《

Reunited

They dragged her into the room kicking and screaming. She could feel the trickle of blood and a bruise forming on her cheek. She was only five foot tall, but thanks to her father she was fierce and quick; she was stealthy, and she knew how to defend herself. She should have expected it, though, the backhand to her face. If someone swung something at her unexpectedly, she would have hit them, too. She regretted having swung her sword at them, but they didn't give her a chance to identify herself before they converged on her. She had to defend herself. Five men against one woman seemed a bit extreme, after all.

"Let me go!" she yelled, still kicking. She was being carried into the room by two of the men, one on each side, their arms crooked underneath her armpits. She swung her legs wildly, absolutely amazed at their strength. "Put me down! You can't treat people like this!"

They ignored her, which only made her angrier. New tactics flashed in her mind, but when she gazed upon the chair surrounded by stone, her body went limp. This was where she needed to be. This was the throne room of Dragonstone, and that ugly chair was the throne. He was here somewhere, she knew he had to be.

"Let me go!" she grunted, flailing about. "Jon!" she yelled. "Jon Snow!"

At the sound of his name the two men holding her tightened their grips. He was important here, she gathered. He was more important than she thought, and she was a threat. She writhed in pain when one of the guards punched her in the stomach.

It didn't deter her. She screamed even louder. "Jon! Jon Snow!"

Another hand was raised to her face.

"Stop!" he shouted with authority. "Let her go!"

She fell to the ground when they dropped her. It was him. She had never felt such relief. "Jon," she breathed.

He rushed to her side. "Galena!" he gasped in shock as he helped her to her feet. "What...how did you..." he stammered as he searched for the right words. "Did they hurt you? Are you all right?" He placed his fingers under her chin, turning her face toward his, examining the wound beneath her left eye. He turned to the guards. "Who did this? He will be punished!" he commanded.

The men didn't speak, only looked at each other, afraid to admit who struck her.

"Tell me now," Jon boomed, "or I will have his head." He pointed randomly at one of the guards.

A man stepped forward, obviously the leader of the men. "I did this, Jon Snow."

"Grey Worm," Jon said surprised, and seemingly hurt. He regained his composure. "I'm a man of my word. I will take you before the Queen and—"

"Jon, no!" As angry as she was with these men just moments ago, she knew why they did what they did. They were protecting the city, they were protecting their queen, and they were protecting Jon Snow. "I was being unruly and threatened them. They were doing their job."

Jon turned to look at her, completely ignoring the scene that just took place in front of him. He hugged her tightly as she sunk into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. She sighed deeply. She finally felt safe and at home, even in this foreign place. When he pulled away he looked her up and down. She looked a mess. Her clothes were torn and tattered. Her hair was matted, and so dirty that it was difficult to make out the light brown color of it.