𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 | The Stag
{ Malkym }
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𝕸alkym knew that there would be people looking for him and the princess, mainly because she was the heir to the Iron Throne. Ser Criston had caught up with them and told them so, but the pair had merely made a fire and happily settled down to sleep outside, needing the time and space away from the royal party and prying eyes.
Malkym knew that Ser Criston was growing more and more despairing with the pair. But, he was finding this most amusing. The man was easy to annoy.
"Princess, I must make a final plea to return to the camp." Ser Criston was staring at the pair, who were both stargazing.
"I rather prefer it here." Rhaenyra sighed, shuffling closer to listen to Malkym, as the man continued to point out stars, whispering their stories to the teenager.
"His Grace is certain to be worried by your absence, as your uncle will be, Ser Malkym." Ser Criston interrupted Malkym's stories.
"His Grace can worry himself to death if he so likes." Rhaenyra muttered, as Malkym squeezed her hand.
"My uncle is well used to me, Ser Criston." Malkym forced a smile at the man. "He will not be worried at all. He knows that I am plenty capable of defending myself."
The trio fell into silence, taking a moment to compose themselves.
"Tell me, Ser Criston. Do you think the realm will ever accept me as their Queen?" Rhaenyra questioned. They fell into silence again as Ser Criston tried to form an answer.
"They'll have no choice but to, Princess." Malkym leant back, before catching sight of the horses. They'd began to snort and shuffle around nervously, as both knights drew their swords. Malkym stayed by his betrothed, one hand carefully placed by her, and the other holding his sword as he settled into a crouched position.
"Malkym." He hushed his betrothed, staring around for the thing that was moving as Ser Criston advanced into the undergrowth. There was nothing for a second, before something came bursting from the darkness, screaming at the top of its lungs and flinging Ser Criston onto his back.
It was a boar, and a raging one at that.
It skidded to a stop, turning around for a second charge as Malkym batted it away from his betrothed swiftly, not wanting her to be harmed. It turned for a third run, as Malkym stepped to the side, before plunging his sword down into it's back, pinning it to the floor with a grunt.
It struggled more than people did.
Blood splattered across both him and Rhaenyra from the wound, as Ser Criston watched the unnervingly calm man. Malkym pulled his sword free of the boar's back as it struggled to breathe and move, dragging itself along with it's front legs, before the knight swung his sword back around and plunged it through the boar's head, deep into the earth below.
Rhaenyra flinched at the blood that hit her, turning to look up at Malkym with wide eyes. She had never seen this side of the man before. The cold, calculated look and strength that the man showed was something she'd only seen once before, on Malkym's uncle, Ser Rickard.
"Ser..." Criston turned towards Malkym, who did not flinch, brushing the blood from his cheek and eyes. "I-"
"You'll have to be quicker than that, Ser Criston." Malkym turned, his eyes cold. "It seems you have not yet trained to be quick enough to kill."
He sank down beside the boar, holding his hand out for Rhaenyra's dagger as he calmly began to slice the boar up. Rhaenyra's eyes followed his every movement, eyes wide in shock.
"But, at least we will eat well tonight." Malkym shot the other knight a cold smile, and Ser Criston remembered where he had seen the man before. They had fought at the tourney and Ser Criston had won easily. But now, he was beginning to fear that it might have been too easy.
The man ahead of him was far too skilled with a knife and sword for him to have been so easily defeated in a joust.
It was at the same time that a memory came back to him, a story of the Thorne family. The boys were said to have been trained to kill since the age of six, fighting as soon as they could lift a sword. Each child was said to have been worth ten soldiers by the time they had reached marriage age, and the ideals of honour and loyalty were drilled into them.
A dangerous flash of Malkym's eyes had Ser Criston Cole thinking that perhaps this knight ahead of him had already sworn his loyalty to the princess and any jest that he made of killing was truly a promise, not a threat.
It was a terrifying thought, to know that someone so deathly loyal to the princess would be by her side for the rest of their lives. Anyone who would go against her, would be killed by his hand.
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Malkym was quiet for the rest of the trip back to the encampment, merely watching Rhaenyra carefully as they made the long journey through the Kingswood. The boar was being dragged along behind Ser Criston's horse whilst the knight walked.
Finally, they stopped on a hill, staring back at the plethora of tents below them. Malkym turned to his betrothed, cocking an eyebrow at the blood spatters on her face and far off look in her eyes.
"It will be alright, Rhae." He muttered under his breath, as Rhaenyra nodded, before the pair turned at the sound of hooves. Malkym's eyes went wide at the sight of the stag, with huge antlers and pure white fur. "Is that...?"
Both men made to unsheathe their swords.
"No." The stag brayed quietly as it watched them, before turning and galloping back into the Kingswood. Rhaenyra said nothing else, the trio riding back into camp, dragging the boar behind them as the people fell quiet.
Rhaenyra was the first to jump down as her father watched with Malkym and Ser Criston following along, both bowing their head to the king.
"Malkym." Rickard grabbed his nephew, pulling him away from it all, having noticed the blood stains on the man's sword. "Come."
"Of course." Malkym nodded, before shooting one last look at Rhaenyra's retreating form and turning back to his uncle.
"Tell me what has happened." Rickard commanded under his breath. "Everything. Leave nothing out."
"There is little to say." Malkym replied, before turning to Rickard with a smile. "I merely reminded them that there was a reason that I was knighted."
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{ Rhaenyra }
Rhaenyra was somewhat shaken.
She'd been that way ever since they'd returned from the hunt and taken back residence in the Red Keep. She could not get the image of Malkym murdering the boar from her mind, the cold eyes and nonplussed expression on his face. She had never seen that side of the man before. It was unusual to say the least.
The doors ahead of her opened, drawing her from her thoughts as she stared up at the Small Council table and her father, eyes narrowed and cautious.
"Make haste to Dwarfstone, Ser Addam." Viserys turned at the intrusion, watching as Rhaenyra walked in. "Hand deliver this to Prince Daemon yourself."
"At once, Your Grace." The knight bowed, before he and a squad of soldiers dispersed.
"Dwarfstone?" Rhaenyra had not paid enough attention in her Small Council meeting to know what any of this meant.
"I'm sending word to Daemon." Viserys replied, nodding to himself. "Aid is sailing to the Stepstones."
"Did he make call for help?"
"He would sooner die." Viserys chuckled. "But his king does not mean to allow that."
Rhaenyra sat down.
"Do you not think my decision is correct?"
"It is no consequence to what I think..." Rhaenyra snarked. "As I'm often reminded."
"Daemon is thorn enough in my flesh." Viserys growled. "Will you insist on taking after him? Must everything be a battle?"
"If you refer to your blatant disregard of my choice and attempting to marry me off to Casterly Rock?" Even the name left a sour taste in her mouth. "Then yes."
"I am sorry, Rhaenyra." Viserys shook his head. "I was trying to help. Will you not be helped? Why must every effort on your behalf be resisted as if to the death?"
"Because you mean to replace me..." Rhaenyra took a deep breath, her voice becoming choked, "with Alicent Hightower's son, the boy you always wanted. You have him in hands now. You have no further use for me. You might as well peddle me for what you can instead of letting me marry down. A mountain stronghold or a fleet of ships."
As much as Rhaenyra hated to admit it, the only way she had been allowed to marry Malkym as heir was because she held the power in their relationship, as all he could offer her was unrelenting loyalty and soldiers. If she was not heir, then her father needed to marry her off for power to secure the throne for her brother. Malkym could not secure the throne for her. His family was not that strong.
"You have misjudged me, Rhaenyra."
"All know it." And all spoke in whispers behind their backs when they thought that Rhaenyra could not hear. "Jason Lannister knows it. You said it yourself, the lords of the realm gather like vultures to a carcass, hoping to feast on my bones."
"It is true that as rulers, we must marry for advantage. To forge alliances and bolster our strength." Viserys' head dropped. "You have always understood this. I myself was promised to your mother when I was te-"
"Ten-and-seven years of age." Rhaenyra shot her father an annoyed look. "The Vale had an army to rival the North. I've heard that story since I've had ears to."
"I loved her." Viserys stated, seeming to grow annoyed at her interrupting. "She made a man of me. I do not seek to replace you, child. You've been much alone these past few years. Alone and angry. I will not live forever. I wish to see you contented, happy even."
"You think a man will do it?" Malkym, whilst he was one of the people she enjoyed spending time with most in this world, was not her one source of happiness. Her emotions were not tied to him, nor was she dependent on him.
"A family."
"I had a family." Rhaenyra shook her head.
"What would you have me do?" Viserys cried.
"If it was for advantage, you would've wed Laena Velaryon!" Rhaenyra shook her head. How could he not see the hypocrisy of all of this?
"That is true enough." Viserys shrugged. "You must marry, strengthen your own claim, shore up your succession, multiple. As to your match, if it Malkym Thorne that you wish, then marry him. If he is the one that pleases you, I am glad."
Rhaenyra fought a smile, forcing back tears as she bowed her head and turned to walk out.
"Rhaenyra..." The girl look back at her father, who looked even more frail in the light. "I did waiver at one time. But I swear to you now, on your mother's memory, you will not be supplanted."
Rhaenyra merely turned and walked away, forcing a smile down now that she knew her own betrothal and feelings were safe. That she was allowed to marry her betrothed with no contest from any others.
Hiya,
So, we finally got to see Malkym fighting in action. He doesn't show it often, much preferring to be a joker but he's actually a very dangerous man. We love that for him, and we get to see more of his coldness in the future (which I'm hyped for). Rhaenyra's a little shaken, but she's just excited to finally marry him.
Let me know what you think,
Love Li xx