"Send for only the best. If we're to have a funeral, might as well make it a little more than a dull affair."
Sienna twisted her body in the dark, turning her ear slightly closer to the thin slit between the wall and the paining she was hidden inside. The thin strip of light illuminated a stripe across her face as she peered inside the throne room. She'd discovered this secret passage nearly two years ago, a new point to keep herself hidden and away from her claustrophobic room. Apparently, it had been installed by Jaehaerys Targaryen centuries ago, a possible escape route in the corner of the throne room behind a rather large painting in case of an uprising. A smart move, Sienna conceded, and a particularly useful passage for her.
For the moment, she was eavesdropping on Littlefinger plan Jon Arryn's funeral, as there was little else to do. The thin man's slick way of speaking had always interested her, the way he commanded a room from the back was particularly fascinating. She wondered if she would ever have the chance to speak with him in person.
It had been nearly six years since that night Lord Varys had carried her back to her room, giving her wisdom she'd carried with her since. And he'd been true to his word as well. The very next morning, Pycelle hobbled into her room, announcing that he'd found a mixture that could help alleviate her spasms. The only problem was that it did little for her weak body, and she had to take the mixture every morning and evening, though that was manageable. Sienna was simply grateful to be alive at all.
And yet, here she was, still having to hide away in the dark. Her mother was still strictly refusing to let her outside the castle, and always had someone following her if she ever left her room. She insisted it was for Sienna's safety, which didn't seem too far from the truth.
Listening idly to Littlefinger prattle on about fancy cakes that must be served at the funeral, Sienna grew bored rather quickly. Most of the interesting conversations she could spy on had gone away the moment her father had packed away the family to go to Winterfell to ask Ned Stark to be his new Hand.
A small part of Sienna knew that she wasn't supposed to know that, especially because her mother didn't yet. But that council meeting had been particularly interesting, with many impatient lords and her brash father stomping around, declaring himself the only voice on the matter. It had been so funny to watch such powerful men scowl like petulant children who'd lost their toys. The mere memory brought a smirk to her face.
Yet, as a result, she was left with little to interest her in the castle. No shouting matches from her father with the small council, no passive aggressive mother complaining at the slightest grievance. Even her uncle Tyrion was gone, and with him every ounce of fun left in this wretched place.
The raven haired girl let out a sigh, deciding that this wasn't worth listening to. She swore if she heard another remark about the importance of appearance she might claw out her eyes. Steeling herself for the journey back towards the passageways, Sienna stepped away from the back of the painting and turned away. She reached her long, pale fingers towards the wall, searching out the indents in the dark that would lead her where she needed to go. She'd carved them herself soon after she discovered the passages, taking months to map the area as best she could. Her fingers brushed over a deep arrow pointing her to the left, giving her the direction she needed towards the kitchens.
She followed her self made directions, keeping her pale fingers on the walls beside her. She knew the feeling so well, she might as well make the journey with her eyes closed. The air around her was damp and cold, with very little room for movement besides the forward motion of walking. The cold made Sienna's skin clammy and tinted it blue. After years spent secretly roaming the passages at night, the darkness had stripped her skin of it's last ounce of color, leaving her paler than a ghost.
"Fuck", she muttered, rubbing her left hand across her right shoulder, trying to rub in any warmth she could.
Finally, she reached her destination. Her hand pressed gently against the false pillar that stood in the kitchens. Before she opened it, Sienna strained her ears and listened for anyone in the room. She listened close, but only heard the slight drip of water hitting the floorboards. Satisfied that no one was around, Sienna gently pushed the hidden door open, slipping through the slim opening easily. She landed quietly on her feet, ankles cracking as she did. She stretched up to her full height, her long legs crackling and popping from the exertion. She internally cursed whatever god had made her grow so tall so fast in the last year.
Her skin immediately flushed with warmth, the climate changing considerably from the frigid one she'd just exited. The ovens were running, cooking something for whatever lord had demanded his own personal feast. Her worn-in boots scuffed against the ground and she padded her way over to the pantries. She took in the scents of fresh baked breads and spiced apples as she went. She brushed a clump of heavy, limp hair away from her clammy cheeks, tugging the thick strands behind her ear with some difficulty. As she passed through the room, she snatched several snacks and stuffed them in her pants pockets. Her old tunic hung limp on her bony shoulders as her clothes became laden with food.
The silence of the room felt heavy on her skin, but Sienna was used to it by now. All she had to do was wait for her family to return, and she could go back to hiding in the walls, watching from afar. It wasn't so bad, anyway.
"Why's your mother so dead set on us looking pretty for the king?" asked Jon, leaning against the stone wall behind him.
Jon, Theon and Robb all stood in the washing room, dreading the inevitable grooming on the orders of Lady Stark. Robb was the first victim, already being sheared and shaved by Tommy, much to his chagrin. The room was far too hot for Jon's liking. He'd rather be out in the courtyard sparring with Robb. But here he was, standing half-naked, waiting to get his hair cut like some southern lady.
"It's for the queen I bet", observed Theon, with his usual weasel-like smirk, "I hear she's a sleek little mink."
"I heard the prince is a right royal prick", cut in Robb, getting his face rubbed clean.
Before he even formed a response, Jon knew Theon was going to make some sort of joke about the prince's manhood. Predictable as ever.
"Think of all the southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick" he said with a smile. Jon didn't laugh, finding his joke lackluster at best, but it seemed Robb had found some semblance of humor in the Ironborn's remark since he began to chuckle. Once Robb was done getting pretty, Tommy pushed him out of the chair. Robb stumbled towards Jon with a smirk.
"Shear him good, Tommy", he drawled, giving Jon a good slap on the back, "He's never met a girl he likes better than his own hair."
Tommy pushed Jon down into the chair as Robb and Theon laughed at him. Jon wouldn't say this out loud, but he most definitely was not happy about his hair being cut. It was his most Stark-like feature, and it made him feel just a little bit closer to his father.
Seven Hells, he sounds just like a girl.
"Or maybe your mother's trying to get you all pretty for the princess, Robb" said Theon, crossing his arms over his torso and smirking at the heir to Winterfell, "A royal wedding would make her burst on the spot."
Robb stood there, gagging slightly. The only princess visiting was the golden one, Myrcella, who only just reached ten years.
"No", spat Robb, gagging, "She's just a child. Barely ten years on her, you sick bastard."
"Well, there's always the Sickly Princess", smirked Theon, waggling his eyebrows at the two other boys.
Robb rolled his eyes, unsurprised at his friend's antics. Jon, on the other hand, glared over at the ironborn. The joke was old, and it had very little humor left in it.
"What do we even know about this princess?" griped Jon. He hadn't heard much that could be counted on as real about the oldest royal child. Just bits and pieces of rumors that spread through the seven kingdoms all the way to the Winterfell kitchens. He couldn't help but feel a little bad for the girl. No one really knew her. But he didn't feel too bad, she was a princess after all. Probably spoiled since birth.
"What's to know?", responded Theon, "No one's ever seen her. I heard the queen has to lock her in her room because she has two heads."
"No, I heard she has three arms", responded Robb, crossing his arms over his chest. The two boys chuckled and Jon felt the tug of the shears under his hair.
The Sickly Princess was a mystery the Stark children found particularly interesting. Jon would hear them discussing what she must look like, what must have been wrong with her to keep her so far from the sight of anyone outside the Red Keep. Most theories made her out to look like a monster. Three heads, no tongue, eels for hair, he'd heard it all. Sansa came up with particularly cruel theories, seeming to revel in the idea that she bested a princess in beauty.
Jon, unlike his siblings, did not enjoy talking about the princess. He didn't care if she was a deformed demon or just some sick girl. She was just some faceless royal who he would never meet, so what was the point in wasting time or thought on her. He had other things to focus on.
"Even looking like that, she'd still probably never let you bed her", shot Jon from his seat.
Robb hooted, slapping Theon on the shoulder. The Ironborn scowled at Jon, which only made his more satisfied. Getting under Greyjoy's skin always made Jon feel good. He needed to be knocked down a few pegs every once in awhile, and Jon was more than happy to oblige.
"Doesn't matter", remarked Theon, elbowing Robb in the side, "She isn't going to come. She doesn't go anywhere."
Jon shrugged, not particularly caring about the conversation. Soon enough, the topic changed and none of the men in the room paid any mind to the mysterious girl they would never meet anyway.
Sienna lay on her back, long legs propped up against the wall as she held a thick envelope in up front of her face. The morning light was beginning to creep through the windows, staining the walls orange. Her thick hair was fanned out around her on the stone floor of the hallway. No one was around to pass by or yell at her to go back to her room. She'd been sure to check that everyone was on the other side of the castle putting together preparations for the funeral.
Turning the envelope over in her hands, Sienna fondly recognized the impatient scrawl across the front addressed to her. Tyrion was always too busy to write anything legible.
Reaching to her side and feeling around blindly, Sienna wrapped her fingers around her little flask. Without bothering to look, she tipped the flask over into her mouth and poured her medicine down her throat, resisting the urge to gag. The concoction tasted like rotten eggs, burning her throat as it went down. Her eyes squeezed shut against the flavor, forcing herself to swallow the thick concoction and coughing as it went down, familiar with the whole routine.
Sienna turned over to spit the remainder of the medicine's flavor onto the ground before turning back over onto her back, sliding her fingers through the seal and ripped open the paper, retrieving the letter inside. She unfolded it up in front of her face, the paper dipping down slightly and brushing against her sharp nose. The dark blue ink was smeared in parts, the scrawled writing barely comprehensible to anyone who wasn't familiar with the style. Sienna's green eyes roamed over the page, taking in each word carefully. Her chest pinched slightly, hoping for good news. Her uncle's last letter had detailed the fall of one of the Stark children, and she'd written back immediately, demanding to know if the boy would survive.
Poppy,
I'm sure you're hoping for good news about the Stark boy, but I'm afraid there's nothing to tell. He is still unconscious, and his legs fare no better. His mother has not left his side since the fall, which is to be expected. I've given my sympathies, as was expected of me, but none of the Starks care much for my sadness. I can't blame them, of course. I can blame Joffrey, however. The insolent prick refused to give his sympathies to the Starks until I had to resort to… possibly treasonous means. I do hope he remembers this in the future, however. It would do the boy good to have some sense slapped into him.
I'm now off to the Wall, like we discussed. As promised, I'll bring back a souvenir for you. I'm thinking something along the lines of a dagger, something wielded by one of those heroes you love so much. I'm accompanied by Ned Stark's bastard, who could rival even you in brooding and sullen looks, though he seems to lack your penchant for pissing off everyone in the general area. In the best way, I reassure you. Nonetheless, the journey looks dull due to the dazzling conversation given so far by my travel companions.
My deepest apologies for being brief. We leave at first light, and you know how I need my beauty sleep. I will write again as soon as I can. There aren't many posts from here to the Wall, unfortunately. Your parents are on their way back to the Keep, so prepare. Be sure to stock as many cakes as you can in your room before your mother gets back. I'll send you every detail of Castle Black I can gather. One day, I'll take you there myself. I swear it.
Wish me luck as I piss off the edge of the world.
The best uncle you have,
Tyrion
Sienna ran her fingers over the writing, feeling the imprints deep in the page from Tyrion's heavy handed writing. Her chest felt heavy at the thought that the poor Stark boy was crippled for life. She refused, however, to think that he was doomed to die. Many had said the same about here, yet here she was. She was sure that the boy could pull through, if given the right help.
The princess's fingers twitched slightly, itching to reach for some ink and parchment and dream up a way to help the boy. She'd lost her trust in Maesters long ago, perhaps something she could dream up could…
But no. She knew nothing about things like this. Simple diseases, standard breaks. Those were things she understood, had mended on herself once or twice. She had no clue how to repair a destroyed body, let alone help a young boy come to terms with the loss of his legs. There was nothing she could do. Not for the first time did she wish she could run straight through the doors of the Red Keep and make her way out into the real world, but it was a fantasy.
Sienna also felt a deep sadness at the temporary loss of letters from her uncle. He was her only contact to the outside world, and he'd always given her hope that she'd make it out herself someday.
Pressing the letter to her chest, Sienna closed her eyes and dreamed of what the road to the Wall must look like.
Cersei stood at the edge of the Stark boy's room, just out of sight of Lady Stark. She knew what she must do, go comfort the grieving mother, appear sympathetic. She knew the role she was required to play, especially to divert attention from herself, but she took little pleasure in it. Finally stepping through the door, her footsteps alerted Lady Stark, who scrambled up from her chair.
"Please", Cersei responded gently, nodding her head for the Lady to sit back down.
Catelyn ran her hands over her skirt, her pale face blushing slightly. "I would've dressed, your grace."
"This is your home", the golden haired queen stated, walking towards the bed, "I am your guest."
Cersei let her eyes fall on the boy in the bed, his soft face passive and barely breathing. Her face remained impassive, knowing that what had been done had been necessary. However, that was not what would keep her secret safe.
"Handsome one, isn't he?" she commented, keping her eyes on the boy, "I understand your pain, you know."
"My queen", Lady Stark sighed, falling back into her chair with a defeated look on her face, "With deepest respect, you do not know what this is like."
Cersei had to restrain herself from verbally lashing back at the woman. She had no clue about how true the queen's statement was, and she had no right to tell her she knew nothing of a mother's pain.
"My first child, Sienna, she was born… fragile."
"I never knew", Lady Stark whispered, her sallow face lighting up slightly at the little bond between herself and the queen.
"No one does", Cersei responded, pressing her lips together, "For her own protection, I've kept the details to myself."
Cersei chose her words carefully. She knew she needed to take suspicions away from herself, but this… this story may be too close. But she had managed to get Lady Stark to look up, sad eyes boring into her like a child desperate for a story.
"She was born and I was so happy", the queen continued, her voice barely restraining itself from cracking, "My very own child. She was so beautiful, with her green eyes and tufts of dark hair. She came out fighting, kicking and screaming, refusing to be held by anyone but me. A true lion from the beginning. And I didn't let her go, not for one second. For three days she was held so close to me I feared we might melt together. I fed her from my breast, sang little songs. Gods, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen."
"She sounds incredible", Lady Stark whispered, braving a small smile.
The small smile that had grown on Cersei's face evaporated in a second. Her memories moved from their once bright and happy beginnings to the truth of what had become of her beloved daughter.
"But on the third day", Cersei continued, her chest beginning to ache, "I set her down in her cradle. I was so tired, I needed to sleep and she was perfectly fine. She didn't even cry as she was laid down. She never cried, the little thing. Not even an hour later I came to the side of her crib and saw her face had turned blue. She had stopped breathing. Her chest was shaking, her little arms thrashing about like someone had set her blood on fire. Gods, she was so small. I screamed for the Maester. I didn't leave her side for weeks. They told me she had been born wrong, that she had been infected while still inside of me. My own daughter had been poisoned inside of me."
"That wasn't your fault, my queen", Lady Stark whispered, reaching her hand gently over Cersei's, causing the queen to stiffen.
"She lives, thank the Gods", Cersei whispered, holding back the burning behind her eyes, "But she is still so sick, so fragile. The medicines only work so much, despite how much she fights me on the issue. I keep her room as comfortable as I can, keep her educated. I have no intentions of letting her rot away in the dark like some animal. It pains me every time I see her, but she is still my child."
The golden haired woman felt her words stick in her throat. There was a burning behind her eyes she wouldn't let Lady Stark see. Yet every mention of her daughter brough Cersei great pain. Her little lifeline, her very first child was trapped away in a body that never ceased to try and kill her, and there was nothing Cersei could do.
"I'll pray to the Mother every morning and night", she stated firmly, holding in the tears and hardening her face, "Perhaps this time she'll listen."
With that, Cersei turned away from the boy she broke and stepped out the door, one solitary tear slipping away from her grasp and down her cheek.
"Mother, I swear, I'm fine."
Sienna stood at the foot of her bed, pleading with her mother. The royal caravan had arrived only a day prior, and already Cersei was berating her. She'd found the dark haired girl in the hallway, only a few minutes after she'd exited a tunnel behind the Keep's walls. Luckily, she hadn't seen her exiting the tunnels, just wandering, and immediately sprung into action, dragging her daughter back to her room. Sienna, for all her boasting and anger, couldn't bring herself to fight her mother, though every part of her body yearned to do so.
Instead, her mother looked at her with her wide green eyes and shook her head. "If I'd known you were dashing around the castle- I should have that nurse sent to the dungeons for this."
"I was just walking through the halls", Sienna insisted, her head ducked and shoulders hunched nervously, "I promise I took my medicine beforehand, and I was careful-"
"Careful?", Cersei huffed, spine straightening in anger, "What's careful? You risking another episode to what? Prance around the Red Keep? It's as if you're trying to get yourself killed."
Sienna felt her scowl deepen on her face, cheeks heating up in anger. "Yes, mother. I'm trying to kill myself. Is that what you want to hear?"
"Don't you dare joke about that", her mother spat, golden hair falling in tendrils around her face, "After everything I've done for you, don't you ever jest about that."
Sienna curled in even tighter on herself, her hair falling over her face like a curtain, shielding her from her mother. She took an involuntary step back, her legs hitting the edge of her bed with a thud. The room was suddenly drowned in silence. Neither woman knew what there was to say. Sienna stood shock still, her muscles locked in place like a scared animal. Yet anger still boiled inside her like poison. Cersei, on the other hand, stood tall, staring at her daughter with narrowed eyes, infuriatingly calm. With a sigh, her mother shook her head, her face falling into a scowl.
"Well", she sighed, clasping her hands in front of her torso, "I suppose that's enough for the day. I have important matters to discuss with Jaime. I'll leave you to… whatever it is you wish, I suppose."
"I wish to leave this fucking room", Sienna grumbled under her breath, brushing her hair out of her face.
Cersei stopped mid-step, her back stiff. Sienna felt her heartbeat speed up as the queen turned around, her face stony. "What was that?"
Frozen in place, the dark haired girl felt her whole body slump in defeat. "Nothing, mother."
Casting her daughter one last glare, Cersei turned back around, gliding out of the room with a grace Sienna could never dream to match. The thud of the door closing made her slump back down onto her bed, feeling completely drained. Her body shuddered with fear, feeling the chill her mother left behind still hanging in the air.
She wished deeply that Tyrion was here. He'd always been on her side, even on occasion able to convince her mother that she deserved to have a few spare moments out in the halls, which was a miracle unto itself. Now she was left without him for another week while he returned from the wall. It had been nearly two weeks since his last letter, and she missed his company dearly.
Reaching over to her nightstand, Sienna snatched up his last letter and held it up to her face. She reread every word, taking in every ounce of whatever comfort it could give her. Her shivers died down as she ran her hands over the ink. Each word described the Wall, it's heroes, how he would take her there someday. Her heart swelled at the idea.
Sienna squeezed her eyes shut, thinking hard and trying to picture what Castle Black must look like. Her knowledge of the books and her uncle's letters blended together to paint a beautiful picture. Snow so deep she might sink in completely, sunlight glinting off the icy wall. Trees taller than any in King's Landing. Black clad men with strong, heroic faces. It was all a beautiful picture in her mind.
Sienna pressed the letter to her chest, letting out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. She knew what Tyrion would say to her mother now, and she knew what she wanted to do. No one was keeping her locked up in this room, even if she had to hide away in the castle walls to do it.
She waited for hours for the sun to set, knowing that there would most certainly be a guard to spot her out in the halls if she snuck out during daylight. That move would be idiotic. However, once the sun set, she got to work on sneaking out to her first entrance. First, however, she switched clothes, tugging on one of her many dirty white tunics and brown trousers and lacing on her boots to make the travel more comfortable. She glanced over at her nightstand, looking at the little flasks of medicine she'd need to take soon. Shrugging, she decided she could take it once she got back. It wouldn't make much of a difference, anyway.
Slipping out her door, the pale girl looked both ways down the hall before quietly making her way down the hall towards a large green and orange tapestry. She clutched the embroidered fabric and pulled it aside, revealing a door that matched the walls around it, only identifiable by the thin slits that surrounded it. Sienna easily pushed it open and slipped through into the passage behind it.
She gagged on the dusty air, spitting onto the ground to rid her tongue of the layer of dust that had travelled into her mouth. The last slivers of light disappeared as she delved deeper inside, keeping her hands on the walls and lightly grazing to find her indents. Her calloused fingers scratched against the rough stone as she made her way through, swiping away cobwebs with her free hand. Sienna carefully padded her way through, making sure to make no sound as she made her way towards the west wing of the Keep. Most people consorted closer to the south wing, but she knew the library in the west was generally abandoned and allowed her to spend hours alone, reading everything she could in the open space.
Sienna listened as her footsteps barely echoed around her as she reached her destination. She perked her ears up, listening for any whispers. So far, nothing. She huffed, bored with the silence around her as she made her way towards one of the entrances to the west library. She carelessly pressed her ear to the crack, making sure she heard no voices before pushing the entrance open and slipping down to the carpeted ground of the library.
The sound of her boots landing was absorbed by the carpet, keeping each footstep carefully quiet. Sienna let out a sigh of relief, throwing her hair back over her shoulders as she took in the wide open space around her. It may be quiet, and devoid of people in general, but it was hers. She'd chosen this space as her own, and no one challenged her on it. She quietly made her way through the stacks of books, brushing her fingers over the spines of each one she passed, looking for something new to read.
As she came closer to the history section, Sienna heard something odd. She froze, listening closely to the air around her. The slightest whisper could be heard a few rows beside her, tickling her ears tauntingly.
Sienna knew that she should turn around, disappear into the passage and keep herself hidden. But something in her chest tugged her closer to the whispering, her curiosity peaked and need to see another person insatiable. In the end, her curiosity won out as she slowly made her way closer to the noise, careful to keep her steps as silent as possible.
"...safe for now", she heard one voice whisper.
One of the princess' dark brows quirked up. She knew this voice, though not as well as some others. This was Jaime. What in seven hells was he doing in the library this late at night?
Sienna finally got close enough to peek through the shelves and look in on the conversation. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that her uncle was standing strangely close to her mother, her dressing gown wrapped loosely around her. His hands rested on her shoulders and his chin was lifted confidently in that way she'd only ever seen him be able to pull off.
Her mother, in contrast, stood as stiff as she had in her room only hours earlier. Her golden hair lay limp on her shoulders, the braids from earlier loosened and framing her sharp face. The moonlight made her look oddly sallow and pale, something Sienna had never pictured her mother as. The image felt like something she wasn't meant to see. This only made her more curious, leaning forward a little more to get a better view.
"Safe?", Cersei whispered back, looking troubled, "How can we ensure that Ned Stark remains clueless? Him and his stubborn honor will be the death of us. And our children."
Their… children?
Jaime gripped Cersei tighter, looking serious for a flash. "I won't let anything happen to our children. Besides, we have a defense, should the need arise. There is no question Sienna is Robert's child, we can say that the other three simply took after you."
Sienna stood shock still, feeling her blood run cold as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.
"He may leave Sienna, even try to throne her if Robert is taken care of", her mother hissed, her brows drawn together as she stepped closer to Jaime, "But what of the others? Don't you think Ned Stark would want some sort of compensation for his own son?"
"Stark isn't the type for revenge", Jaime reassured her easily, his arms slinking around Cersei in a way that made bile rise in Sienna's stomach, "Besides, we've always had to deal with this. We've always danced on the knife's edge, and we've always come back alive."
The dark haired girl's heart sunk and stomach retched as she watched Jaime's hand sneak it's way up to her mother's jaw, drawing it up to his own and capturing her lips with his.
Without thinking, Sienna yelped and tripped back, trying to block her sight of the scene. Her shoulders knocked into the shelf behind her, sending several books clattering to the ground. The girl froze, her heart hammering as the sound echoed throughout the room.
The sounds of Jaime and her mother stopped. To her horror, Sienna realized that they had heard her.
"Jaime", Cersei hissed, her voice shaking slightly.
At her mother's words, Sienna heard the sound of metal against metal scraping together. Jaime had unsheathed his sword. And Sienna didn't need to see them to realize they knew she was there.
Sienna whipped her head around, ready to run towards the passage when she realized that she was on the complete opposite side of the room. There was no way she could make it there unseen. Her ears pounded with the quiet rustling of Jaime's boots on the carpet.
"Show yourself", Jaime's voice echoed, his words easy and deadly at the same time.
Feeling her breath hitch in her throat, Sienna looked over her shoulder to see that the main entrance wasn't that far away. Only a few rows. Without giving herself time to think or the sense to move quietly, the dark haired girl scrambled over herself and bolted towards the door, knocking a few more books over in the process like a fool.
As she ran, she heard Jaime's footsteps speed up behind her, causing her to run faster. She ran chest first into the door, the wood handles smacking together and sending more echoes through the room. With shaking hands, Sienna wrenched the door open and threw herself through it, nearly tumbling to the ground as she did. Instead, she desperately kept her balance and kept running, feeling her body already beginning to give out as she did.
Sienna's chest began to burn. She had never run this fast before. The room around her began to shift under her feet, but the pain could wait. As she rounded a corner, she turned her head for a fraction of a second, only to see Jaime stalking behind her.
He'd seen her.
Her green eyes widened and involuntary tears wrenched their way out of her eyes as her boots slapped against the stones. She turned another corner, trying in vain to find a room with a passage, but she was far from her usual areas, unsure of what lay behind each door. She heard Jaime's boots not that far behind her, sending a rush of fear through her stomach
He didn't call out to her, try to scare her with words. That was never his way, to begin with. Ande she realized he couldn't alert the castle to what was happening, lest they ask why he was trying to kill the princess.
The only princess.
No, she couldn't think about that now. She had to focus on getting the hell out of this place.
The hallways blurred together as she ran. Bursts of dark blues and browns blinded her as she tried to keep herself from falling face first onto the flagstones beneath her. The hard ground never seemed so deadly before. Suddenly, out of the back of her mind, an idea came. The west wing wasn't too far from the throne room, and she knew a way back from there.
Pushing herself even harder, Sienna quickly changed course and made her way towards the throne room. She could taste blood drip from her nose all the way into her mouth. The burn behind her nose and eyes was becoming unbearable as she pushed her body to it's absolute limit. She nearly spit the blood out, but quickly gagged it down her throat. If she spit the blood out, it would leave a trail.
Finally reaching the room, the dark haired girl dove into it, her feet echoing throughout the large room before she came to a screeching halt in front of the large red and black painting at the right end of the room.
It hadn't saved the Targaryens, but it might just save her.
Quickly turning her head, Sienna checked to see if Jaime was near before shoving the painting aside. She slipped through the small opening before pulling the cover back into place, plunging herself in darkness.
Taking a few careful steps back, Sienna waited. Her chest pounded so hard that she worried that Jaime would hear the thump of her heart. Covering her mouth so no one could hear her breathe, Sienna strained her ears to listen for her uncle's footsteps. She could feel blood sticking between her fingers from her leaking nose, staining her skin red. After a few paralyzing seconds of silence, Sienna nearly jumped at the sound of careful footfalls. She could barely hear Jaime, but she could decipher the sound. He always sounded like a hunter stalking his prey.
The soft steps stayed even as they began to pass the painting. Sienna felt her muscles shake as she gripped onto her mouth harder, keeping the sound of her breaths covered. Tears welled in her eyes. This could be the moment he found her. The moment she died.
Finally, Jaime passed the portrait and his footfalls became softer as he stalked down the hall. Sienna let out a shaky breath as she began to retreat. She slid her hands up the wall to try and find the indents on the stone, but her hands were shaking too violently. She stumbled over herself as she shoved herself through the thin passage, moving faster than she had ever dared to move in there. The stone scraped and scratched at her shoulders and arms, but the stinging only prompted Sienna to move faster. A sword would be worse than some stone.
The halls were getting more and more confused. Sienna had never been to this part of the tunnels. There were no indents, no markers of where she was or where she would end up.
Her chest continued to burn more and more, the pain spreading to her lungs and Sienna's breaths were becoming faster as she scrambled forward. Her head hurt as if someone had taken a war hammer to her skull and the hallway was beginning to blur.
With a whimper, Sienna gave up on trying to find the directions on the walls and just ran wherever they took her. Keeping her hands stretched out in front of her, she let her hands guide her forward. Cobwebs tangled in her hair and lashes, dust coating her skin as she delved deeper and deeper into the tunnels, deeper into the dark. As she rounded another corner,l Sienna ran face-first into a wall. Her let out a cry, feeling her head jerk back and nose break, gushing blood even further down her face and neck.
"Fuck", she sobbed, gripping her nose in her palm as tears streamed down her cheek.
Reaching her free hand forward, she felt the wall that she had run into. To her surprise, it wasn't a wall. Spreading her fingers across the smooth material, Sienna felt the surface carefully. It was smooth and cool, unlike the rough surface of the walls around her. Sliding her hand down, she felt a lump of cool metal. A knob. This was a door.
Sienna hesitated, hand hovering over the handle. This door could lead to somewhere in the castle for all she knew. It could take her right back to where she started. But, consequently, this door could also lead her to safety. There wasn't much choice left, as it turned out.
"Damn it all", she whispered, causing a sharp pain to rip up her nose. Cringing and holding tighter to her nose, Sienna placed her free hand on the knob and began to slowly turn it.
There was a creak. Sienna jumped and almost let go of the door like it had burned her. Trying to settle her pounding heart, Sienna took in a shaky breath before slowly opening the door. A gust of warm breeze hit Sienna in the face before she saw what lay outside. The door opened to show a muddy, crooked path that lead to nowhere.
Nowhere was better than the Red Keep.
Still clutching her bleeding nose, Sienna sloppily turned her head both ways, trying to see if anyone was near. She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding in before stumbling out of the passage and tripping out onto the path. She broke out into a crooked run, nearly tripping over her own feet again as she did. The blur she had experienced in the passageways turned into a full tilt all around Sienna, sending the world sideways. The warm air made her feel damp, dirty. But she couldn't faint, not now.
If only she'd taken her medicine.
Pushing forward for what could have been minutes or hours or years, Sienna wove her way around the twisted path, never passing a soul. Slowly, far too slowly, Sienna could see buildings rising up in front of her, moonlight bouncing off the brick and wood houses. She could practically smell the city approaching. It smelled like shit.
Her heart had not stopped slamming itself against her chest nor had Sienna stopped looking over her shoulder the whole time, hair falling into her eyes as she did. Her mind was racing, always tricking her into thinking she saw Jaime running up behind her, sword at the ready to slice her head off and stick it on a spike.
While looking over her shoulder once again, Sienna felt her foot catch on a stone. Sprawling her hands out, she tripped and broke the fall with her hands, ripping the skin apart in the process. Her head began to burn, swirling in and out of full consciousness.
Then, to her horror, she felt the muscles in her shoulders began to twitch.
"No", she whimpered, "No no no no…"
Her shoulder blades started to spasm painfully and her knees gave way. The pain was simultaneously familiar and foreign. It had been so long since she'd had one, she'd almost forgotten how badly it hurt. In her seizing state, Sienna painfully twisted around on the dusty ground, back arching and eyes rolling back in her head like a monster.
She tried to cry out, but only managed a gurgling sound as her throat closed around itself. The lack of air was sending lightning sharp pain up her nose and into her head. She clawed at the dirt, trying to drag herself up onto her feet. The dirt painfully stuck underneath her nails, but still she couldn't pull herself up.
No one was near to help her. She had nobody left, no one who knew what to do when this happened.
The world began to become darker, the spasms taking over completely. Her muscles were knotted, making it impossible to move without blinding pain. The world became a blur. Sienna knew she was about to faint. She never forgot how that felt. Despite the blur, she could still see the blood from her nose mixing with the dirt, creating a morbid splatter painting in the ground.
She couldn't move, couldn't run anymore. Jaime would find her out here, finish the job. Even if he didn't, Sienna would die out here anyway. Some thief would kill her and take the boots from her feet. Why wouldn't he? She was just some poor girl nobody knew.
For the first time since that night all those years ago, Sienna closed her eyes and waited for death.
Cersei sped through the halls, calling out for Jaime as loud as she could without alerting the guards. She wrapped her robe tightly around her as she passed through another corridor, her chest burning with fear. Whoever it had been that had seen them had to be dealt with
"Jaime", she called out, swiping her hair from her face, "Jaime!"
As she strode across the cobbled floors, something caught her eye. The door across from her was wide open, practically begging for someone to step out and catch her running through the halls. Taking a step back and straightening her robe, Cersei observed the door and realized that it belonged to Sienna.
With a shuddering sigh, she crossed the hall and entered the room. She had to make sure her daughter was unharmed. What if the stranger had found her after he had caught Cersei and Jaime? Gods, what would they do to her precious child?
"Sienna, my child you have to close your door. There is a-"
Cersei stared at the rumpled bed, realizing that her daughter was not there.
"Sienna?", she breathed out, whipping her head around to find her daughter, but all there was were shadows.
"Sienna?"
She wasn't supposed to be anywhere but her room. She didn't know the castle well enough to find her way to a nurse. Gods, she could be lost, hurt, anything at all. Where in Seven Hells could she have-
And then, from the corner of her eye, a burst of white caught her attention. Something inside her told her that she didn't want to see what she was about to see. Shaking, Cersei turned towards the bright spot to see a white tunic tucked into the corner.
A white tunic identical to the one she had seen the stranger wearing.
"No", Cersei choked out, dropping to her knees in front of the small pile of clothes.
It was all there. Every shred of proof she needed to identify the stranger who she had sent Jaime after. The white tunic, identical boots, Her medicine left untouched on the nightstand.
Cersei's breath began to choke her, her chest contracting painfully. Oh gods, she had sent Jaime to kill…
"Cersei."
The golden haired queen whipped around to see Jaime standing in the doorway, a confused and worried expression twisting his face at the sight of her kneeling on the ground. He was still panting, clearly having run all the way over here. Had he…
"Did you find them?" Cersei choked out, fingers clutching the tunic she had found to her chest.
"I'm afraid-"
"Did you find them!", she ripped out, barely keeping her voice below a scream. Her heart slammed in her chest as she glared up at her brother.
"I-", he stammered, caught off guard by Cersei's sudden ferocity, "No. I couldn't find them. I'll continue to search."
Choking down a sob, Cersei turned back to the pile of clothes that had belonged to her beautiful child. The child she had just condemned to death. There was no way for her to survive alone. She wouldn't last the night.
"It…", she croaked, sobs trying to rip their way through her throat, "It was Sienna…"
Cersei payed not attention to Jaime's response, his half thought out assurances. He'd never loved her like she had. It didn't matter. Her daughter, her little black haired beauty was gone, and she had been the one to destroy her.
Letting sobs rack her body, she clung tight to the tunic and prayed to the gods that they make her daughter's death painless.
A/N: Thank you all so much for the response that this story has received! I never thought anyone would like this story, and I'm glad so many of you do. I actually have a tumblr for all my OC's if you want to follow any of that (I just do it for fun). It's bad-dancer.
HPuni101: Thank you for saying that. I worked pretty hard to try and flesh out the whole 'only Baratheon' thing a little more, and I'm glad you noticed.
UmiNight Angel Neko: This comment made me giggle and it made me so happy :D
HPuni101 (again!): There will be long term consequences for Sienna's illnesses, and it plays a big part in the story.
Guest: Correct! Sienna's fc is Octavia Blake, but in the first two chapters she is much younger, so I imagined her more as India Eisley.
Mortzo: I hope to write more. Glad you're having fun!