♛ → THE RIVERLANDS presents MALACHI FREY, the LORD of THE CROSSING. when the dragons danced in the sky they thought the BLACKS would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the THIRTY-ONE year old CIS MAN who was FEARLESS & CUNNING before they saw the first of the flames, is now BLOODTHIRSTY & CRUEL after seeing the last. they’re often associated with a lone figure in the mists, fresh dug graves, strange idols found hidden in the trees. ( jack o’connell )
history.
tws!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Multiple counts of murder, multiple counts of attempted child murder, drowning, animal cruelty, it’s all just heavy stuff babes
I.
malachi frey was born during a violent summer storm, during which the banks of the green fork burst, flooding the nearby village and resulting in the death of seven. upon leaving the warmth of his mother, the babe didn’t cry. cold to the touch, he was born with eyes that seemed to watch the maesters and midwives. an ugly, scrawny, silent thing, it would not have been a stretch of the imagination to imagine the infant malachi as a drowned child fished from the river.
strange goings on would occur in his early weeks. in later years, elder riverfolk would recount rain that seemed to scorch the earth, cattle giving birth to twisted, deformed offspring, snakes hatching from chicken eggs. the more sceptical would insist the rumours to be naught but stories ; others would claim the world itself protested his existence.
his wetnurse would swear she saw shadows moving in his nursery when she entered, and when she took him to her breast, all the candles extinguished at once and her milk curdled on his lips. more nurses were sent for, but none managed to feed the child, who was weaned on goat’s milk mixed with water from the river in the end.
as he grew, malachi became more unsettling. he was silent when in the company of others, but when alone, his giggles and coos could be heard even through closed doors. his mother would even swear she once caught him smiling at his reflection in the looking-glass. It wasn't smiling back.
the freys consulted with maesters and septons, seeking the advice of learned men for a solution towards the strange occurrences that surrounded their second son. in the end, it was a cook who provided it. a grizzled older woman, she recounted to lady frey the legend of changeling children, babes swapped at birth by the sidhe. malachi, she would claim, was clearly no human infant, but a changeling, and the only option was to leave him in the forest overnight for his own kind to reclaim, and return the body of the son lady frey had bore.
the month before his first nameday, malachi was taken at dusk to the forest, and left beneath a weirwood tree. they left him naked and unwrapped amongst fallen leaves, and when they turned to leave, the men who placed him there swore they heard his infant’s laughter echoing in the air.
They returned the next morning, expecting to find the corpse of their son. instead, they found him lying in a ring of withered grass, cooing as though speaking to something they could not see, wrapped in a woolen blanket that had not been there when they left him. the blanket was slightly damp, but warm, as though he was being held only seconds before their arrival.
they returned to the twins with the baby, and from that day on, he was different. though still an unsettling presence, he was brighter, more engaged with people and less prone to falling silent when someone entered the room. over time, he was accepted as a true child of house frey, any unease chalked up to lingering misgivings from the changeling that had stolen his first year of life.
II.
the rest of malachi’s childhood development was, largely, normal. he wasn’t a child prone to tears, even when he had been hurt, and spoke a little later than his elder brother, but reached all his milestones without cause for alarm.
what was of note was the strange series of accidents at the twins, that all seemed to, somehow, link back to malachi. when he was four, his nurse was found dead, lying on the bank of the river with her eyes unblinking, clothes dampened by morning dew. when he was seven, the cook who recommended he be left in the forest as a babe was heard saying to the other servants that malachi “ain’t theirs, but he ain’t ours, neither.” that night, she was found in a chair by the fire, her throat cut. children of his age who malachi argued with would similarly be found dead, though there was never any evidence to implicate malachi in their murders.
he was eleven when his mother led him down to the green fork to collect leeches, and when malachi had bent over the water to pluck one from the mud, she descended on him, knocking him from his feet and holding his head under the water. she was stopped, but malachi refused to speak with her until the end of her days. It is not known why she did it. even when questioned, she could never explain it herself.
from the day of his mother’s attempted drowning of him, malachi began to spend more time in the forest, sometimes vanishing for days on end. he stopped going to his lessons, to the septon’s relief. he had always been a nightmare to try and teach anyway.
III.
upon reaching the age of thirteen, malachi’s father instated him as the apprentice to the toll keeper of the crossing. despite the early end to his education, malachi took to it well, never failing to notice attempts to skirt or short change the toll or smuggle through goods which travellers did not wish to pay for. he was soon able to judge the weight of a purse by the gait of the man carrying it, and to tell when he was being lied to.
most of his teenage days were the same, his days spent on the river, his nights in the forest. he was drawn, inexplicably, to the weirwood he had been found under. it was the beginning of a life-long fascination with the old gods, a religion he would begin to practice in secret.
the older malachi grew, the deeper his devotion to the old gods became. he grew obsessed with ancient rituals and forgotten magics, and that was what led him to first begin to make offerings. it began with animals, and later men and women, travellers he abducted as they made their way through the crossing and spilled their blood into the dirt.
malachi’s origins had always been linked to the sidhe, but through his faith, he began to view the sidhe and the old gods as one and the same. the strange stories that had followed him all his life were not omens, but marks of their favour.
IV.
the dance of the dragons erupted, and malachi found himself called to fight. away from forest and river, his behaviour became erratic, and rather than mixing with other men in camp, he spent most of his time alone. in battle, though, he proved unnervingly calm, reveling in bloodshed, even that of men he fights alongside.
upon returning home, he assumed his duties as tollkeeper, the previous toll master having since died. once he assumed full control, he began a series of rituals and ceremonies he refuses to explain, burying offerings of bone under the bridge, washing the stone with riverwater mixed with ash. His methods became more brutal, wagons being overturned in searches that were more common, amongst other things, but he was effective in his methods.
there are times when he asks for more than coin for passage, demanding locks of lady’s hair, men’s teeth, or drops of blood in the place of gold. he chooses his targets carefully, any complaints against him soon dismissed.
He keeps a secret ledger, separate from official records, of names who pass through, with sigils known only to him marked beside each name.
meanwhile, those who explore the forests begin to notice strange things, odd figurines wrapped in scraps of fabric and hair found hidden among tree roots or bones hanging from branches like chimes.
personality.
whether there is truth or not to the rumours that malachi is a changeling or not, he is an unsettling presence, if only because the man is completely unstable. it is not just that he has a temper, but that he can jump from completely calm to enraged in a split second.
he is a man of extremes, and doesn’t try to hide that. his response to a slight is violence, even for the most minor of insults. there’s an innate bloodlust in him and he’s quick to indulge it. after an outburst, he will calmly return to what he was doing before, completely calm again.
he spends much of his time when he is not at the tollbooth in the forests surrounding the twins. as such, much of his time is spent alone, but he’s not the typical loner. malachi is quite comfortable in the company of others, and not at all introverted.
he’s not particularly cunning. when he wants something, he doesn’t bother to conceal his interest in it. he may be unpredictable in his methods, but this is because he is rash and impulsive, not because he has particularly put a lot of thought into things.
during the dance, it was said that malachi rode into battle without fear. the ability to be afraid is something that he does not possess. it’s not particularly courage, it is just an absence of fear or apprehension.
he is a man who appreciates the art of a deal, in that if you put a contract in front of him, he’s going to look for a loophole in the wording and absolutely exploit it. though not particularly strategic, it would be a lie to claim there’s not an out-of-the-box sort of intelligence to malachi.
in a similar way, malachi has never really been known to tell a lie. that does not mean that he does not intentionally obscure the truth, or utilise words with a dual meaning, just that nothing that he says is ever an outright fabrication.
there is no overstating that malachi’s primary trait is cruelty. though he isn’t familiar with the feeling of fear himself, he actively enjoys causing it in others, and possesses a sadistic streak.
as violent and volatile as he is, he seems to take a certain sort of glee in it. bad tempered, but never really in a bad mood.
he is a deeply paranoid man who never trusts anybody around him, even his own kin. perhaps a side effect of his mother trying to murder him, perhaps he’s just a bit mad.
he’s a highly superstitious man, whose days are filled with observing old rituals that most have forgotten.
goals.
nobody truly knows that malachi has turned to the old gods, though his house follow the faith of the seven. he follows the faith in the way it was in centuries past - with blood sacrifices and witchcraft. he is obsessed with the ancient history of the land, and longs for a return to the older practices on a wider scale.
rumours.
during the dance, malachi is said to have been responsible for several casualties on his own side. this is true. if asked, he does not really confirm or deny, just smiles and says it is hard to keep track on a battlefield.
the rumours that he is a changeling have never truly left him, and is still whispered about behind his back.
other.
once, at a feast, a lord offended him. malachi responded by smashing a bottle off a table, and slashing his face with the shattered glass. he then calmly returned to his food.
animals hate him. horses, dogs, and birds alike panic in his presence.
malachi has a strange, almost archaic way of talking. he is almost lyrical with his choice of words.
he always smells slightly damp, even when away from the river.
he carries weapons made of bronze rather than iron. could be superstition, could be something else.
his eyes are an almost colourless grey, but one is slightly lighter than the other. it is not drastic enough to be easily noticed, but present nonetheless.
