I am no one. No one has no place in Winterfell. Arya thought. But she is someone and she has a place in King's Landing. What does she have anything to do with me? She's better off dead.
"Please. We may have only seen each other twice in our lifetime but- I just don't know what else to do." Myrcella looked like she would cry but didn't. No she wouldn't. Tommen was the one who cried. Tommen was the weak pudgy little boy. Joffrey was the scared, arrogant prick, and Myrcella was the strong one. The women are the strong ones.
"We will have to cut your hair wether or not you want to. Yoren cut mine to escape King's Landing." Arya said. "It is safer to travel as a boy."
"Mother would never approve."
"My mother would never approve of what I did or am doing but My mother is dead. The Freys killed her at her brother's wedding!" Arya wanted to scream.
"I am sorry for your loss." Myrcella said sweetly.
"You're not. Your grand father was responsible for it no doubt."
"My grandfather is not me. I had nothing to do with their murder. I am truly sorry."
She is nothing like the prick king Joffrey.
"Fine. Apology accepted, butif we travel together, then I am The Lord and you are The Lady."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you obey me." Arya replied.
"I am your princess!"
"I don't care!" Arya replied.
The princess said nothing so Arya continued as they began walking.
"You're Martyn. You are a bastard from Lannisport. Your father was some foreign merchant and your mother was a beautiful whore and you are a woodworker's apprentice that is being sent ahead to King's Landing to negotiate with the current store owner."
"My mother is not a whore and I am not a bastard."
"Say that and they'll rape you first. Just keep to the story and we shouldn't have any issues."
"Who are you then?"
"I am no one." Arya replied.
"You have to be someone. What do I call you?" Myrcella asked.
"No one." Arya turned to her but for a moment Myrcella thought she saw a scarred face of a woman but blinked and it was Arya again before her. Myrcella sensed a dangerous seriousness in Arya's voice and decided it would be best to not ask anymore questions.
They had some trouble along the road which resulted in Arya killing two grown ass men.
"I don't want to have to protect you so take this." Arya said handing Myrcella a dead man's sword.
"It's too heavy." Myrcella complained trying to lift it as it fell on the ground again with a thud.
"Stop complaining. Besides you're holding it wrong. It's a one handed sword." Arya told the Princess.
"That just makes it harder." Myrcella replied.
"Not if you do it right." Arya said correcting Myrcella's grip. The Princess smiled grateful, It did feel more comfortable in her hand and not as heavy.
Arya remembered everything Syrio taught her and she taught Myrcella whom after a few swings began to enjoy it. By the end of the day they were dueling.
"There is only one god. And that god is Death." Arya said dancing around Myrcella through the trees. "And what do we say to Death?"
"Definitely NOT today." Myrcella said swinging around surprising Arya causing her to fall.
The two giggled and talked until the night came. Arya still had her mission to consider so they left as soon as morning rose with the sun.
"What do we have to do in OldTown? We could have gone up BoneWay and kept going north to the Rose Road which would have gotten us to King's Landing in seven days instead of seventy." Myrcella groaned as they sat crouched in an alley outside a tavern in Old Town.
"You seem to complain a lot more when there isn't a septa to tell you not to."
"And you don't?"
"I'm fairly consistent with my complaining no matter who I'm around. Wait here."
In a flash Arya was gone. There were screams and a woman exited the tavern carrying a head by it's hair. She had a hideously scarred face with one red eye and one blue one. She had a streak of green in her matted dirty blonde hair and a lip with a deep gash in her lip and stitched holding it together. She threw the severed head into the square and just as people rushed over, she vanished.
"Ready to go, Marytyn?" Arya asked. Myrcella gasped whipping around, her heart racing. The scarred woman looked just like the one she thought she saw Arya was once-
"What did you do in the tavern?" Myrcella demanded.
"I just got some bread. Want some?" Arya asked tearing off a piece.
Myrcella looked at the Stark girl curiously then brushed it off. Sorcery doesn't exist. It's all just my imagination. I am just hungry.
That night they made camp ten miles out of old town on their way to Highgarden. They slept under a tree. They looked up and pointed out faces in the stars then Myrcella said she was going to sleep. Once the Princess's breathing was slow enough, Arya too rolled over.
"Polliver. Raff the Sweetling. Dunsen. Ser Illyn. Ser Meryn. Queen Cersei. Valar Morghulis." She whispered before finally closing her eyes.
"Valar Morghulis." Myrcella repeated in a whisper listening, still awake. What does that mean?
Arya didn't hear her.