NA: After having played the Division 2 for a while, I just can't help it. I am having way too much fun in the game. This made me also stray from the mercenary/PMC deal and go for something different.
Game of Thrones' ending really caught a lot of us off-guard. I certainly didn't like the writing and how it played out, but it was still one hell of a journey these past ten years.
But yes, I have truly gone mad. Absolutely insane. And I have no regrets.
~oOo~
A dizzying feeling came to a man as he was strung up from the ceiling by his legs, seeing everything upside down from his view. His hands were tied to his back, preventing him from trying to do anything.
"Rise and shine, asshole!" a voice clamored as he was splashed with cold water, causing the hanging man to widen his eyes and gasp.
The hanging man saw another man wearing a black ballistic mask with white claw marks painted over it. Aside from the mask, he wore gear that made him a cut above regular soldiers, body armor that can take a beating with pouches to hold magazines, tactical gloves, boots, clothing that allows flexibility and utility. He had a certain unique wristwatch on his left wrist with a glowing orange circle.
"Man, you Black Tusk sure are tough." the masked man chirped. "But we can overcome. We always do."
Dammit, this was supposed to be the other way around. It was supposed to be types like the masked man to be hanging off the ceiling by the legs, not him. What the hell is going on? Why the hell is this agent wearing that mask like he's one of those mysterious Hunters?
"Me and a few like-minded colleagues decided to take some inspiration from the Hunters." the masked man spoke. "They had it right. They were always on the offensive. Never the ones to go on defense. It's always attack, attack, attack. So in order to get ourselves started, we had to do just that. Twelve Hunters died because of that. And now we have their masks, wearing them like trophies. We even decorated them."
Oh he definitely did. A red paint in the shape of a hand on a black ballistic mask.
"We realized that it was time for us to be ruthless too. Time for us to let everyone know that we're not just pretty people with nice stylish watches. You know… like what I did to your squad. Quite stylish if I say so myself."
"You son of a bitch!" the hanging man hissed, trying to wriggle his way out.
"Now that's not nice." the masked man said, pretending to be hurt by the hanging man's words. "And here I am trying to be hospitable, entertaining my honored guest. I guess I'm just not good enough."
"Fuck you!"
"I'm flattered but I happen to be straight as a two-by-four."
This agent was insane, he just knows it. Looks like some of them finally snapped and are taking out their frustration on any enemy they see. He was fucked and he knew it.
"You know, I really love my job." the masked agent said as he drew his knife. "I love it so much that I do it with pride and conviction, just like you guys. Now we're going to play a game. The rules are very, VERY simple. I ask questions, and you answer. If you lie to me or if you refuse to answer, then there will be… consequences. Sounds fun, right?"
"You're not getting any shit from me."
"We'll see about that, my friend."
The Black Tusk operative could only try and wriggle himself out of the binds but he couldn't And then minutes later, the screaming started. An hour went by and he kept on screaming until he lost his voice. Another hour, it became silent.
Out of the abandoned storage was the agent with a satisfied look on his eyes.
"Yeah, it's me. I have the intel on the Black Tusk's base at Tidal Basin. Time for everyone to see what the Division can truly do."
Phoenix Rising
Chapter 1: Spirited Away
Dark Winter...
Dark Winter was the code name for a senior-level bio-terrorist attack simulation conducted from June 22–23, 2001. It was designed to carry out a mock version of a covert and widespread smallpox attack on the United States. Tara O'Toole and Thomas Inglesby of the Johns Hopkins Center for Civilian Biodefense Strategies (CCBS) / Center for Strategic and International Studies(CSIS), and Randy Larsen and Mark DeMier of Analytic Services were the principal designers, authors, and controllers of the Dark Winter project.
Dark Winter was focused on evaluating the inadequacies of a national emergency response during the use of a biological weapon against the American populace. The exercise was solely intended to establish preventive measures and response strategies by increasing governmental and public awareness of the magnitude and potential of such a threat posed by biological weapons.
Dark Winter's simulated scenario involved an initial localized smallpox attack on Oklahoma City, Oklahoma with additional smallpox attack cases in Georgia and Pennsylvania. The simulation was then designed to spiral out of control. This would create a contingency in which the National Security Council struggles to determine both the origin of the attack as well as deal with containing the spreading virus. By not being able to keep pace with the disease's rate of spread, a new catastrophic contingency emerges in which massive civilian casualties would overwhelm America's emergency response capabilities.
The disastrous contingencies that would result in the massive loss of civilian life were used to exploit the weaknesses of the US health care infrastructure and its inability to handle such a threat. The contingencies were also meant to address the widespread panic that would emerge and which would result in mass social breakdown and mob violence. Exploits would also include the many difficulties that the media would face when providing American citizens with the necessary information regarding safety procedures.
The simulation, in a span of a few days, spiraled out of control.
The operation predicted a rapid break down in essential institutions, civil disorder, and massive civilian casualties.
Dark Winter has revealed how vulnerable the world has become. Lifestyle, security, safety… depends on a delicate and unstable economy.
We, as a people, created a system so complicated that we no longer understand how to control it.
Oil, power, shipping, transport…
We live in a complex world.
And the more complex it gets, the more fragile it becomes.
The system is built on a global supply chain that gets things where they're needed just in time.
To put in a simpler way… We created a house of cards. Remove just one and everything falls apart.
And what's fueling the system?
Money.
Americans alone can spend 90 billion dollars in a single day of shopping.
On just this year alone, 200 million people swarmed their local stores on November 23.
We call that day… Black Friday.
Did you know that a flu virus can survive on the surface of a banknote for up to seventeen days?
That was how it all began.
On one Black Friday sale, a virus was unleashed through the use of US dollar banknotes. The pathogen would jump from tainted banknotes to human skin, and then onto food, toys, children… and loved ones.
By the time Patient Zero feels the first sore throat, millions of people will already be infected.
From this point, the breakdown happened fast.
Day 01: Hospitals reached capacity and panic struck.
Day 02: Quarantine zones were established, resources rationed, and transport went into lockdown.
Day 03: International trade halted, causing the world's stock market to collapse.
Day 04: Power failure, shells empty, taps run dry. Once hunger and despair grabbed hold, people did anything for survival.
Day 05: Everyone had become a potential threat.
By the end of the week… the virus had spread to half the world.
By the end of the month… close to a billion people died from the disease.
And six months after the outbreak? God help us all.
All this started because of single asshole who was too smart for his own good.
Gordon Amherst, a virologist.
From a video diary that was recovered from his lab in New York, he voiced out his explanation for creating and spreading the Green Poison was that humanity was too powerful on a global scale, mother nature needed help in 'advancing her creations', that humans eventually needed to be put in check, and he was the cure for it. Furthermore, he is also a huge believer in the concept of natural selection, meaning that the strong ones will be able to survive the virus while the weak ones perish. With the breakthrough of digitizing DNA, the process of growing a generation of lab-grade pathogens could be done a thousand times faster than conventional methods.
Because of a single man, having died from his own creation, 3.2 billion people died worldwide, wiping out roughly half of the world's population and destroying society as we knew it. All of that in just six months.
Out with the old world, in with the new.
New York is ground zero, with the amount of bodies piled up and its Dark Zones being seen in the worst state possible. The other cities though didn't fair any better. DC had become a war zone with various factions popping up.
America as we knew it is gone. All that's left are remnants of the government, the military, and the people creating walled and secure communities. All that truly mattered was surviving and making sure that they have a place in the new world.
When the virus hit and chaos ensued, the President of the United States of America signed the National Security Directive 51. Through it, it allows 'continuity of government' or at least a semblance of it. To the protect the American people, infrastructure, environment, and political functions. Although the last one is a lost cause since most politicians are in hiding, dead, and have their own agendas, becoming warlords alongside some unsavory military leaders.
Through Directive, the Strategic Homeland Division was created. Sleeper agents from all walks of life were activated with the objective ensuring that America does not collapse. Of course, things did not go as planned and the government did indeed collapse. So their next objective was making sure that innocent lives are protected while conducting military operations. They were considered the best but have more than met their match when the Green Poison hit.
Much of the First Wave of agents were wiped out or had gone rogue. The Second Wave was activated, restoring some semblance of order in New York though the entire city was still too dangerous with most of the people creating walled communities like Manhattan's James Farley Post Office and in other boroughs.
An emergency hit and many agents were called to DC as the entire city had been turned into a war zone. Three factions started going at each other like a pack of rabid dogs, vying for control of the city. Walled communities came under siege until the agents arrived. But it was clear that things will never go back to the way it was. Their enemies were ruthless. Rabid Hyenas, crazed Outcasts, and the depraved fascists of the True Sons.
They thought things would get better once their leaders were wiped out. But then a new threat came from a high-tech private military unit called the Black Tusk. Their weapon technology was equally if not slightly more advanced with their automated drones.
Then communication came in from the rest of the other nations. The whole damn world was in the same state.
It was no nuclear apocalypse like Fallout, but the Green Poison and the Collapse it brought sure as hell had the same effect.
A truly dog eat dog world.
"Come on, hurry up with that loot!"
"Gimme a sec, man! These guys were carrying some good shit!"
"I know that but we're out in the fuckin' open here!"
Two Hyenas were looting some dead bodies from Black Tusk. Body was left there with all the gear and weapons attached.
"Check this shit out!" the first Hyena exclaimed. "These fuckers got drones!"
"And whoever killed them just left 'em here?" the second one looked on in disbelief. "The fuck?"
"Just help me with-"
The first one dropped dead in an instant as his head was blown off. The second one tried to react but fell to the ground by a heavy blow. All he saw was a figure with a certain glowing orange wristwatch with a blade in hand. It looked like one of those single-edged tactical short swords that were on the internet. But what was truly scary though were the Black Tusk dog tags strapped to the plate carrier like trophies on the figure's armored chest.
"W-Wait..." the second Hyena whispered as he tried to plead for his life. But he didn't get the chance and just screamed as the large blade was brought down onto him.
~oOo~
Westeros
City of Sunspear, Dorne
The Land of the Sun some people wish to call it. Its people and its culture, vibrant as ever. It is a modern society that does not look down on whether if the person is a man or a woman. The other kingdoms seem to not understand that though.
The only kingdom that does not truly swear allegiance to the much coveted Iron Throne. The ruling princes and princesses of Dorne in the past never cared for that stupid chair, and neither do they care for it now. They can keep their foolish throne. Dorne will always remain Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. Such is the words of House Martell, the much loved rulers of the Dornish people.
Such is also the words of a girl having turned nine and ten today. She is known for her beauty, having inherited it from her mother. Unfortunately, she doesn't remember her much. Brutally raped and murdered when she was only three. The same came to her baby brother, the tiny head of the infant crushed by the monstrous man she only remembers as the Mountain.
"Why such the long face, my little sun?"
She turned to see the face of her adventurous and loving uncle, Prince Oberyn Martell. "Hello Uncle."
"Little Rhaenys. Such a sad face is unbecoming of you."
"I know."
The man sat down beside her and kissed her head. "I miss them too. But I don't think she would have wanted you to be sad on your special day."
"I know."
"I don't like saying this but we must have patience. I hate being patient but your Uncle Doran is right. We must wait for the right moment or everything falls apart."
"And what of my younger siblings?" she asked her uncle. "Is there still no word of other my younger brother?"
Her uncle sadly shook his head. "No, my little sun. Your brother is still in Winterfell, probably suffering from being treated like less than people by Lord Stark's loving wife. The little birds say that the boy wishes to join the Night's Watch to get away."
"Lord Stark promised that he would be loved!" the girl cried out in anger. "That hewould be cherished, that he would be happy! I want my only remaining brother here!"
Her half-brother from a different mother was practically on the other side of the continent, made to live in the cold unforgiving north by one Lord Eddard 'Ned' Stark, Warden of the North, kept in secret from the current king, Robert Baratheon, out of fear that they will be killed for being born of a Targaryen. Though born to a different woman, none of them hated the child. In fact, he would have been cherished here in Dorne as the Dornish cherish all children despite their birth. Though the events involving the child's mother caused a war that led to tragic deaths within the family, he is not to be blamed. Their birth was simply a result of such things.
Had her mother lived, the poor boy would have been taken in.
"We should demand the Starks about my brother."
"It is not so simple. Northerners are stubborn. Their honor makes them think that they are always in the right."
"And what of Aunt Ashara's son?" she added. "Still no word even when five years has passed after his disappearance? He has been nothing but a brother to me. Why must more of my family be taken away from me!?"
Asher Sand, son to Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark out of wed-lock. He is the son of Ned Stark's late older brother. While Ned took her younger sister to Winterfell, Ashara was forced to have her son 'fostered' in Winterfell years to be with his other relatives. The Lady Catelyn Stark was unhappy about this as this meant Winterfell will be housing two bastards instead of one.
And just seven years ago during the fostering, Ashara's son had disappeared, having thought to run away and return to Dorne. But since then, there was no word.
Ashara had refused to speak since then, turning into the silent and solemn beauty that she is now.
"The gods were good to us that you were given to us unharmed." Oberyn continued. "You are all that is left of our beautiful Elia. Your happiness is what matters most to us now."
"I don't want the Iron Throne." the girl solemnly spoke. "That damn chair has brought nothing but pain and misery to our family. I don't want it."
"And you won't have to. I swore on Elia's grave that you will live your life as you see fit. I don't want you near that damn chair anyway."
She smiled and gave her uncle a kiss. "Thank you, Uncle."
"You are most welcome, my little sun. Now come, there is a party and you are its center of attention. After that, we will go riding. And Doran has a plan in possibly bringing the North into our side."
"I'll do whatever it takes, Uncle."
"Elia would be proud."
And days later, they received a raven from a ghost.
~oOo~
Earth
White House, Washington DC
"Well then, you've been busy."
Twenty year old Asher turned to see the base's commander, Manny Ortega. He had been appointed the commanding officer of the base after President Ellis, the latest president, had turned against them by siding with the Black Tusk. His whereabouts are unknown.
Manny eyed the Black Tusk dog tags on the agent's plate carrier. "You've been really busy."
"A few more went rogue." Asher said as he took out a SHD watch from his pocket and placed it on the table. "One surrendered his watch peacefully and went home. He wanted to protect his family and I can't exactly blame him. The others… didn't go quietly."
Manny took the orange watch and sighed. "I thought things would be better after we kicked Black Tusk out of Tidal Basin. But they just keep coming and trying to stir shit up. We got reports that there are similar situations in the other cities. Even New York. Most of Europe is pretty much going through the same thing but key assets like Interpol are operational. Russia's holding out and cooperating with NATO… China on the other hand..."
"China never knew what hit them, huh?"
Manny shook his head. "Being that densely overpopulated and polluted came back to bite them in the ass. Over seventy percent dead."
"Shit."
"Surprisingly though, Japan didn't get hit as hard. There are deaths but thanks to their cleanliness laws and rapid response to the outbreak, they were spared. We're still trying to get word from the other countries and Central and South America."
"Where's Alani?" Asher asked.
"Theater settlement." the base commander replied. "Couple of Hyenas up to their usual business. Other agents though..."
"What?"
Manny hesitated. "They're getting reports of strange sightings."
Asher raised an eyebrow. "What? Like… Big Foot? Man Bear Pig?"
Manny let out a snort at the choice of humor. "I wish. But no. People are saying they are seeing sightings like people with swords and bows and arrows. Bandits and whatnot. It's like they stepped out of some weird medieval world. Can you fucking believe it?"
Asher opened his mouth before closing it shut. He didn't have a look of disbelief, more of shock. Manny saw this and understood.
"They're real, aren't they?"
Asher let out a heavy sigh. "Good god… that..."
The older man's eyes widened. "Are you saying..."
The agent bobbed his head in confirmation. "It's real. It's all real. I was born into a noble house out of wed-lock. I'm an illegitimate child but that didn't matter to my mom's family. They loved me and made me an official member. Of course, through the lines of succession, my inheritance is a long ways out. My uncle's family, specifically his wife, still sees me as the 'dreaded bastard'. I was fostering at their home and she made it clear that I was not welcome. A shitty experience."
Manny frowned. "She blamed you even though it wasn't your fucking fault?"
"Quite petty, don't you think?"
The base commander scoffed. "No shit. So how did you end up here?"
"Forced to leave for starters." Asher muttered, grabbing himself a cup of coffee. "I think I was around 12 or 13 at the time. I was headed home but along the way something happened. It all happened so fast. Ended up in the Middle East. For about a year or two, I've been trying to survive that hell hole. It's how I learned how to use a gun. Then I came across a team of operators. One of them decided to take me in. The rest is history."
Manny looked on in realization. "I remember now. You're that kid Kelso brought back a few years ago. You had no known history and no known family. You were all over the news. You also decided to sign up for special forces right after you were brought in. You're the youngest to ever become a part of the Special Operations Group. But one thing that didn't make sense was you claiming that you had amnesia."
"I lied to keep my cover." he explained. "Besides, people would think I was a fucking nut if I said I came from a medieval world."
"But now people are going to believe anything." Manny muttered.
"Where did the guys say they were sighted?" he asked.
"All across the country." the older man said. "We have a few sightings here in DC. All vague but one swore he saw a group of elves wielding bows and arrows. They tried to make attacks but guns are better than bows and swords."
"Did they say where they came out of?"
"Nearest sightings are at West Potomac Park and near the Southwest district by the crash site." the base commander said, folding his arms and furrowing his brows, beginning to wonder. "What do you think could have made them come here?"
"Not sure but that doesn't really matter now. Two worlds are connecting."
"What can you tell me?"
"Westeros is the most well-known continent." he elaborated. "The other is Essos. Westeros is ruled by the King of the Seven Kingdoms. As you already know, it's divided by seven kingdoms. I'm of House Dayne from Dorne, the southern most kingdom in Westeros. My father on the other hand is the dead, having been succeeded by my uncle. He rules the largest but most remote. I'm not going to lie, I miss my home. I not only miss my family and relatives, but... someone special."
Manny grinned and lightly punched the agent's arm. "Good for you."
"But I have a duty here."
"Well we can say that we sent you out for recon." Manny joked. "Besides. You've done so much for us already. Some of your methods may be questionable but you don't do them without reason."
"What I did to Wyvern sent a message." Asher darkly said. "That we are not pushovers nor are we playing around."
"I'm not arguing nor am I judging. You were Delta Force after all."
"I never expected to get recruited by the Division." Asher added. "I was off duty when I got activated. Still hard to believe how everything just went to shit from the actions of a single fucking madman. Had he survived, I would have skinned him alive."
Manny deadpanned. "Get in line."
"I'll be sure to check out the areas where the sightings were. I need to see these bodies. Gonna head to my safe house in Southwest."
The older had a look of understanding. "They should still be there. Just be careful. There's still a lot we don't know about."
"I'll be fine."
~oOo~
Southwest District
Liberty's Call Safe House
This is his base of operations, his sanctuary… his home away from home. Secure and hidden away. Hell, the building itself has running water. Though he had to jury rig a water filter in case of possible contamination. One of the many skills he learning during his time in special forces. He did two tours in the Middle East and was going to go for a third but he was then activated.
And now he is here, fighting in his backyard.
He lay on the cot, grasping on the pendant that was given to him by someone he held dear to his heart. Someone whom he only has eyes for, someone who he has promised his heart to. Five years in this world and now he has a way back.
A beautiful solemn one. They were children last they saw each other. He wondered how much more beautiful she had become.
Getting his head out of the clouds, he moved to the workstation and begun his preparations for his excursion. With how long this mission can take, he is going to need a lot of supplies. That would also mean ammo. Food, he can find by just simply hunting and, thanks to his training, he was also conditioned to go without food and water for days. Ammo will be his greatest concern, that's why he is stuffing as much as he can into his large rucksack.
The sound of clicking was heard as he began loading empty mags with ammo for his black market AK, one that he had found in the Dark Zone a few weeks back. He loved it, better than the worn weapons he was forced to use when he was activated. His secondary is an Accuracy International AX338, a variant of the venerable AWM, nicknamed the Nemesis. As for his sidearm, a simple Glock that soldiers and police forces all around the world love to use thanks to its reliability. And last but not least, he had a crossbow that fired explosive bolts.
"I heard about what's going on, still can't believe it myself."
He turned his head to see his older sister in all but blood, Division agent Alani Kelso. The overall commander of the Division in DC. If he went by the standards of Westeros, she is a Lord Commander. Of course, a woman being a military commander is unheard of unless you lived in Dorne.
"So you plan to head there?" she asked, earning a nod in response.
"I do. I've been wanting to find a way back for a long time now. But I'm also worried that the factions are going in there to stake their claim. And if one those gateways pop in the Dark Zones..."
Alani looked grim. "That's going to be a hell of a problem. They'll think some plague is coming."
"I doubt the Black Tusk would do something like spreading DC-62 into a settlement." Asher muttered. "But the True Sons… they will. Even with Ridgeway gone, they still have a proper chain of command. Even then, Black Tusk will see an opportunity and seize it."
Alani folded her arms and frowned. "Damned either way, huh?"
"I need to move quickly." he said, loading up his plate carrier with the magazines of his weapon of choice. "I have enough rations for two weeks. But I can hunt and crossbow bolts will be easier to replenish once I'm there. I got a water filter too."
"You always think of everything, little brother." she lightly joked.
"I learned from the best."
"Make sure to set up a beacon at the start of the passage if you do go through."
"I'll set up several."
The comm beacons were small, barely the size of a baseball. They can be easily hidden since they make no sound and are designed to withstand the toughest of conditions. He can bring several of them, laying them down and their energy can be recharged through sunlight. SHD technology had come far since its inception.
"I'll link up with you when I can." Alani informed him. "I still got business to deal with up with Odessa."
"Tell the settlements to shore up their defenses."
"Already did."
They then hugged.
"I'll see you then, little brother." she said, patting his back. "Watch yourself out there."
"I will, sis."
When he ventured out in full gear, he checked one of the areas where the sightings were. Unsurprisingly, it led him into the collapsed tunnel right beside the Air Force One crash sight. He could see the bodies of bandits, having died from getting ambushed by a group of Outcasts, seeing as they were burnt to a crisp.
He saw a door that was opened and went in, his black market AK pointed forward. The moment he goes through he will have no support for a while. While he will have ISAC support thanks to the beacons, he will need to rely on his senses and past knowledge of the land.
His instincts were right. The deeper he went down into the small tunnel, the fresher the air had become. He can even feel the wind. This also meant that magic was returning to Westeros.
Next thing he knew, he was indeed in Westeros. A beautiful grassy plain by a cave at the edge of a forest. And then it was there that he saw it.
King's Landing and its majestic Red Keep.
But in truth, it is a pit of vipers waiting to strike at each other. He would prefer his home of Starfall or the beautiful Sunspear.
No matter. He'll go to King's Landing and board a ship to White Harbor, from there he will place few beacons on his way to Winterfell. He was originally going to Dorne but then word got out that the King and his family had gone North. So that is where he will go.
He had someone to see.
~oOo~
Winterfell
"Princesses do not cry, my sweet. So you will not cry."
"Yes mother."
"You will be a beautiful lion when you are older. I just know it."
"But… I am a Baratheon. So that means I am a stag, right?"
"So what you are saying is that lions are beneath you!? That lions are unworthy compared to a stag!? Am I unworthy!?"
"I..."
"You are a lion!"
"Y-Yes..."
Time and time again, she would receive the scorn of her mother and she did not know why. Now she is seventeen namedays old, a few minutes younger than her sweet older twin brother Joffrey, the crown prince, her mother's golden boy.
It was always up to her to watch over her baby brother Tommen. It was always about Joffrey, her sweet lion.
Her own mother was not even much of a mother, always focusing on her golden boy. Even when Joffrey would beat her and Tommen for somehow getting him angry – which isn't hard considering how short-tempered he can be, it was their fault, not Joffrey.
Joffrey this. Joffrey that. Joffrey is so great. Joffrey is so sweet.
If she went by the words of her father, it's all bullshit. Even her father can see it but her mother can't be controlled. Even their grandfather Tywin was getting annoyed at Joffrey and their mother.
It was up to her to raise her little brother, not their mother.
Though she is a princess, and expected to live quite happily, she does not. Her father drinks and whores his way to an early grave, and her mother is a spiteful bitch who cares only for her golden boy and being queen. The only consolation is that her father cares more about her and Tommen but only by a bit.
But like any Southron high-born lady, she has to put on a mask to shield her misery. She cannot allow others to see her in a vulnerable state as it would look badly upon the royal family. Though the people loved Robert Baratheon thanks to having defeated the Targaryens at the end of his rebellion, the kingdom wasn't really doing well. She has no real grasp at politics but she listens well and sometimes eavesdrops at the discussions of the small council.
The crown was millions in debt, that much she found out.
Perhaps the only real solace she can find is with her uncles, Jaime and Tyrion. Her mother and Tyrion despised each other. Just being in the same room would have her mother saying something vile. Though her Uncle Tyrion would go to a brothel from time to time and drink, he does not pig out like her father. Tyrion is intelligent and witty, always having a story to tell for her and Tommen. He was always there for them in King's Landing, always something to do. Where Cersei concentrates on Joffrey, Tyrion would be there to educate them and even give them gifts on their nameday. Even their Uncle Jaime would join in whenever he is ordered to guard them instead of their parents.
She would remember the time Joffrey cut open Tommen's pregnant cat and present the bloodied carcass to their father. Gods, that was a terrible day. Tommen could not stop crying and all she could do was hold him. Joffrey still insisted he did nothing wrong while their mother Cersei defended him, stating that he was just curious about everything. But Robert would have none of it, hitting Joffrey hard and giving the crown prince a black eye.
She thankfully got another kitten for Tommen but the trauma had made the poor little prince paranoid.
And then came a day during a tourney where she met someone she would come to cherish.
Several Years Ago
"You have such a sullen look."
She looked up to see a boy of twelve. He had black hair and lilac eyes. Judging by those eyes, he is from Dorne.
"Princess." the boy bowed. "I am Asher Sand, natural son of Ashara Dayne and the late Brandon Stark."
"Well met." she inclined her head, motioning Ser Arys Oakheart,a member of the Kingsguard and her personal bodyguard, to calm down. "Forgive me for saying, but Sand is the name that is given to all bastards in Dorne."
Asher smiled. "I take no offense, your highness. We bastards in Dorne are treated well. My mother loves and so does the family. I may not inherit but I am still a member of the family. I am even training for knighthood with my cousin Edric, the family heir. I am here with Prince Oberyn actually, he and his daughters, the infamous Sand Snakes."
She tilted her head. "And they are bastards too?"
He nodded. "Yes, but they are loved greatly by their father. Some of them are even important figures in Dorne's government like Sarella. So why the long look, princess? I am told you are quite beautiful. To be said would only ruin that beauty. Are tourneys not to your liking?"
"Not when my mother keeps fussing on her golden boy."
"Ah." Asher had a look of understanding. "I hear your older brother is quite… something else."
"That's putting it lightly, my lord."
"Please, princess." the Dornish boy laughed. "I am no lord! I am a bastard."
"Just common courtesy."
"That is very kind of you. Not many would give such courtesies outside of Dorne."
She gave him a pretty smile. "Well then allow me to be the first, Lord Sand."
End Flashback
And with that, a friendship was born and affection created between the two. They would secretly write letters to each other, using her own secret method to send and receive those messages. And on his way to be fostered in Winterfell, he made a stop in King's Landing for her nameday, giving her a beautiful gift, a Dornish dagger made of Valyrian steel. She could go out with it in public lest her mother spot it and take it away so she kept it away, safe in a strongbox with her having the only key.
It was at that moment she knew that she fell in love. Quite the foolish thing to think of when she was only just a girl of ten.
A bastard boy who only sees her as a normal person, not a pampered princess.
And in turn, she became more curious. A Dornish boy who follows the Old Gods as opposed to the Seven. It made her wonder.
This affection she had, it was more than just that. She felt a bond.
While he was in Winterfell, they exchanged more messages, telling her how beautiful it is in the North, not like how her mother would describe it. Of course she didn't believe her mother, she's never even been to the North.
As time went on, their letters became even more affectionate. And the more letters they exchanged, the more she began to think that what the Septa and her mother told her about bastards being evil and vile little things born of sin. Asher has been nothing but sweet.
And when he returned from his fostering, he stopped by King's Landing once more. He had grown more handsome while he told her that she had gotten only more beautiful. And just like before, they met in secret in in the godswood, where no one dared venture into except for her. Beneath weirwood tree, they finally shared their first kiss, calling him her Star.
He stayed for a month, secretly visiting her each day until he had to leave and return to Dorne. On his last night, they kissed once more before she watched him slip into the shadows.
Unfortunately tragedy struck. He did not reach Dorne. He was attacked on his way and she had gotten the news from Lord Varys. She left herself alone in her room and wept like a baby. Her love, killed by brigands.
On that night, she lost complete faith in that religion and retreated into the safety and security of the godswood and started praying to the Old Gods, praying for the soul of her fallen love.
And every night, she would go into the godswood and pray.
So when she and her family were taken to Winterfell for business the king had with Lord Stark, she took the chance to sneak away in the night and venture into the godswood. There, she knelt down at the base of the weirwood tree and laid down a small bundle of flowers. Not only that, she placed a necklace down beside the flowers, a pendant of a celestial phoenix, a mythical bird that is said to be born from the ashes of its predecessor.
She remembered Asher telling him this would be the sigil of his house once he was granted it. House Starling he would have called it, named after Stark and Starfall.
"My princess, forgive me." she heard Lord Stark's gruff voice and turned to see him bow. "I had not expected anyone to be here, especially you."
Myrcella Baratheon smiled at the Warden of the North. "There is nothing to forgive, my lord. I was simply praying."
Ned Stark raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Praying? That is indeed a surprise, princess. I thought you would follow the Faith of the Seven."
She pursed her lips, steeling herself at the mention of that religion. "I don't. Not in five years. I converted in that same time. In secret of course. None of my family or the court knows of this. You have a beautiful godswood, Lord Stark. More beautiful than the one in the Red Keep."
"That is very gracious of you, my princess."
She gave the man a solemn smile. "I only speak truth, Lord Stark. I have been praying to the Old Gods every night for the past five years. Praying for a soul that I still love and refuse to let go."
'Five years ago.' Ned thought, searching his memories before widened his eyes. 'No, it can't be.'
"He was the only one who saw me for me." she continued, caressing the phoenix necklace. "We met in the tourney seven years ago. I was just a little girl back then. A handsome boy, a bastard from Dorne with a free spirit, approached me with no fear or malice. He offered me a genuine friendship like no other. The others who offer me such, only do so to get close to me as I am the princess. But he…" she sobbed. "He saw me as a person and not an object to be placed on a pedestal. He only saw a lonely girl."
"He had a fire in him." Ned told her. "A gentle fire. He could warm the hearts with a simple look. To think that someone like you, a sweet and gentle girl, would love him."
"He is so easy to love." the princess whimpered. "And he was taken from me as punishment."
The Lord of Winterfell tilted his head, furrowing his brows. "Punishment, my princess?"
"You must swear before the Old Gods that you will not tell a soul." she pleaded. "I choose to tell you of this because you are his blood and would never do anything to hurt him. Please, my lord. Swear it."
He knelt down and did so, seeing as the girl was trusting her with a secret. "I do hereby swear before the Old Gods as Warden of the North that I will keep the secret of Princess Myrcella Baratheon. You have my solemn vow, my princess."
"Thank you." she said. "And now I will tell you. Asher was not simply killed by brigands on a chance, my lord. My mother found out about our secret relationship. She somehow found out. But instead of confronting me… she did something far more cruel. Those brigands were in fact assassins sent by queen mother. I could tell by the look on her face when I found out that he was taken from me. Because he is a bastard the realm won't care. Only those close to him."
And all Ned Stark could do was look on in horror and see that her words spoke truth. He was looking at a girl who hates her mother.
NA: And that's a wrap for this one! Turned out a lot better than I thought despite how absolutely mad this is.
But yes, I made a few characters older. Myrcella is indeed one of the protagonists here. She deserved better and deserved love. But Nell Tiger Free did an incredible job with her character.
To those wondering about Shadow Hunter, I am contemplating if I should continue it or not. As one critic said, the whole PMC thing is indeed getting old. It was time I did do something different.