[291 AC]
Quiet reigned once again between the priestess and the Lord of Dragonstone, though as another pained wail echoed in the man's ears, he could hold himself back no more.
"Do it.", Stannis uttered in quiet defeat, his voice laced with hopeful despair, "Call your Lord, and save her."
"I will.", the Red Priestess voiced out calmly, before she swiftly turned away and made her way towards the child's room. It took only a few short moments before Melisandre saw the girl's mother, Selyse Baratheon, kneeling opposite the door of the girl's bedroom.
A handmaiden was at her side trying to convince her to move to her quarters or at least up from the ground, while every cry of pain and wail of agony rattled the frail woman, as Selyse muttered her prayers to the Lord of Light.
Davos Seaworth was likewise present, nervously pacing along the corridor, wishing he could somehow do something to help his Princess, alas mortal men like him and his liege had their hands tied in a matter like this.
Besides the door stood an apprentice of one of the Maesters currently trying to treat the young Princess Shireen. Posting as a guard to prevent anyone from entering, as to avoid the spreading of the plague and stop others from interrupting the procedure.
Melisandre though didn't hesitate to step up to the door, her intent on entering clear.
"Nobody is allowed through without the Maester's permission.", the young man stated with barely concealed distaste, as he added, "Especially not a heretic wood witch."
"I am here to do my Lord's bidding and you will not stop me from doing so, boy.", Melisandre answered with steel in her voice, her usual seductive facade nowhere to be seen.
Calling on her magic, the priestess simply flung the young man across the corridor and into the wall, knocking him out in the process. Pushing open the door, she entered the room, ignoring the Onion Knight calling out for her.
The visiting Maester from the Citadel and his second apprentice, along with the castle's Maester Cressen, didn't even have a chance to truly react to her presence, as Melisandre displayed why exactly she was able to distinguish herself even amongst the ranks of High Priests and Priestesses in the defense battle of Volantis all those years ago.
A simple wave of her hand and the men's shadows were bound, making them unable to move a muscle, while her own eyes were colored in complete black, iris and sclera.
Observing the scene before her eyes, she saw Maester Cressen and the second apprentice holding down the struggling little girl, while the other Maester was trying to remove the infected flesh from the girl's face, arm and torso, quite literally skinning her alive in the process.
The Red Priestess knew that they had planned to do this in stages, so as to slow down and possibly even stop the infection from spreading. The chances of success though were meager, as this was a balancing act.
Removing the infected flesh too fast would result in weakness and other sicknesses befalling the patient, killing them in their already fragile state. Being too slow in the procedure may result in the plague outpacing the treatment and likewise dooming the patient.
Many times though even with the right balance, the resilient plague would come back anyway, eating away at the patient's will to live due to the immense pain its advanced stages caused the victims.
"What are you doing, woman!?", Ser Davos called out from behind her, having already drawn his sword and looking at her with dark eyes.
"Saving her.", Melisandre said simply, as flames engulfed her form.
The Red Priestess moved the Maesters and the apprentice to the side, as she restrained the girl like she had done with the men.
"Not another step, witch!", the Onion Knight stepped in her path his blade pointing at the throat of the priestess, who wore a flaming coat, "I will not let you harm my Princess!"
"What loyalty and courage, admirable. But worry not, Ser Davos. My Lord would never hurt her.", Melisandre uttered, already feeling her Lord's presence at the back of her mind, making her realize that her summoning was successful.
Without care for the sharp blade grazing her neck, the Red Priestess went down to her knees as she chanted devotedly: "Lord of Light cast your light upon us, as the Night is Dark and full of Terrors."
The Onion Knight was about to order the red witch before him to cease her muttering and banish her magical bindings, when suddenly an ice-cold shudder went down his back, as pressure descended on his shoulders and froze him in place.
His eyes glancing to the side, he saw a flaming figure that had suddenly appeared in the room, as beads of sweat rolled down his temples.
The figure didn't have any features, but Davos just knew that 'he' was looking at him and that 'he' was not happy with the former smuggler. A limb made out of pure fire extended suddenly and grabbed the peasant knight's blade still pointed at the Red Priestess, taking the sword from his hand.
Davos could only watch in horror and fascination, as the weapon turned into nothing more than a puddle of red-hot liquid metal, melted by the incredible heat the figure seemed to emit from its hand.
One last intense 'gaze' and the being, which the Onion Knight had thought to be nothing more than a magical trick conjured by those red-clad priests, stepped around him, as Davos realized that 'he' was just as real as the Red Priestess had preached ever since her arrival on Dragonstone.
The shadow bindings had long since vanished with the figure's arrival, but the Maesters and the apprentice had not moved from their spot due to the pressure they were under, while the small girl on the operation table looked at the blazing man with wonder, her pain and sickness forgotten since his appearance.
Comfort and warmth instinctively bloomed in Shireen's mind, as she looked at the magical being approaching her, an innocent smile forming on her scarred face while tears still shimmered in her dark eyes.
Extending its hands, the little girl didn't hesitate to grab onto the blazing figure, as she couldn't resist and fell into an exhausted sleep, while being taken into the embrace of the divine being in front of her.