"Where is he?" Myrcella asked as the soldiers returned to camp.

"He?" Asked one of the lords-she couldn't remember which one.

"Robb." She said.

"Oh, he's probably at his tent by now. Took a blow righ' to the face. Been bleedin' everywhere since. Made it kind of hard t'-where're ye goin'?" He called after her, but she was already on her way back to the tent. When she arrived with her guard at her heels she saw Robb's squire taking off Robb's armor as he held a bloody cloth to his face.

"Well, at least your face wasn't cut off." She said as she walked into the tent. "What happened?"

"Helm got knocked off." He told her. "Nothing important."

"Really?" She asked as the last of the armor was taken off him. "Sit down." She said as she wet a cloth in a basin of water.

"What?" He asked.

"You heard me." She said. "Sit."

"I don't take orders from you." He told her.

"Then you are an idiot." She told him. "I am just trying to help."

"Maybe you shouldn't. We are on different sides of the war, you know." He told her.

"That doesn't mean I like to see anyone suffer." She nodded to the chair.

Even with the bloody cloth to his face, she knew he was scowling at her as he slowly did what she asked of him, she took the cloth she held to his face from him, and replaced it with her own.

"It seems like you'd run out of blood by now." She said, almost sounding impressed. "Don't lean back." She said as he tried to. "It's best to just let the blood out."

"Had a bloody nose before?" He asked her.

"I have two brother's. They're never gentle." She told him. "Even Tommen. He didn't realize that he can't bring his head back quickly when he sits on my lap."

"And your other brother?"

"Who hasn't been struck by their brother?" Myrcella asked. "I bet you could not name one girl in all of Westeros that has not been struck by one of their brothers."

"I can." He told her. His voice was muffled through the cloth. "Sansa. Arya got in fights with Bran too often to count her, but they didn't hurt each other on purpose. But that was equal. No one would strike either of my sisters."

Myrcella raised her eyebrows before letting them fall to their normal position. "I believe that is rare, then." She said, pinching his nose.

"Ah!" He said, pulling back.

"Do not be a child." She told him. "It helps stop the bleeding. Lean forward." She said, remembering what Maester Pycell told her to when she was in a similar position.

"Why not?" He said, his voice different with his nose plugged.

She paused. "I don't know, but that's what the maester told me to do." She told him honestly. "Now be quiet."

Robb stared up at her, though he didn't say anything.

Myrcella turned to his squire. "You can go now."

The boy looked like he was confused for a moment, before Robb nodded and he left.

"I still think you could run out of blood." Myrcella said. "Maybe you have too much blood and it's trying to escape you."

"Are you-"

"Shh. I said no talking." She told him. "And yes, I am teasing you. How much did you get in your mouth? Don't answer that. You can rise that out of your mouth later. I loathe the taste of blood, myself. It makes me gag." She paused, wondering if enough time had passed for her to release him. Slowly, she released the pressure on his nose, and no blood came gushing out. She grinned proudly. "And my septa said I was too busy daydreaming to pay attention to anything. Ha!" She took the rag away from his face, and folded it to a clean spot before rubbing the blood off his face. "You're lucky your nose wasn't broken." She said, but she did see plenty of bruises on his face, One black eye, another bruise on his opposite cheekbone. A busted lip.

"And did your brother break your nose when he struck you?"

"No." She said slowly. "It doesn't look crooked, does it? I always thought it was rather straight."

"Your nose looks fine Cell-Myrcella." He said, catching himself.

"Were you about to call me Cella?" She asked him.

"No."

"I think you were." She told him. "Only a few people are allowed to call me that."

"And who are they?"

"Tommen and Uncle Jaime. Tommen couldn't pronounce my name when he was young, and Uncle Jaime caught on rather quickly. Father sometimes called me Mycella."

"And what was your favorite?" He asked.

"I don't know. I think it always depended on how they said my name." She told him, careful to keep herself busy with her self-given task of cleaning him up, but his dirty hand covered hers, before slipping up her arm. She looked from his hand to his eyes, and she didn't know if it was him pulling her down, or her leaning down.

"Robb!" Catelyn called from behind them, making Myrcella jump back with wide doe eyes. "Might I speak with you a moment?" She asked her son.

"Yes, of course, mother." He said, before looking at Myrcella. "Where is your guard?"

She grimaced. "I lost him a few hours ago." She was good at that. The kingsguard were much harder to lose, and she made that a pass time when she was bored.

He closed his eyes for a second before opening them. "Go see your uncle." He told her, knowing a guard would have to be there. "I will find you, or send someone to find you there later."

She nodded once, before giving him the cloth and quickly leaving, with Catelyn's glare on her the entire time.

When she got to her uncle's cage, there wasn't a guard very close to his cage at all, in face, there was a group that looked to be talking forty feet away. She knew she could talk to her uncle truly. He was looking rather bad, with a straggly beard and dirt caked onto his skin.

"Where's your guard?" He asked her.

"Lost him. Robb sent me here."

"First name basis?" Jaime asked.

Myrcella licked her lips as she nodded. "Yes."

"Anything else I should know? Because you seem to be winning some of them over."

Myrcella looked around, before looking back at her uncle. "I want to go home. I want us to go home."

"And there is no word from your mother on getting you back?"

"They're not letting her."

"They?"

"I don't know who. All I know is apparently a princess for a princess isn't a fair trade."

"So you agree that Robb Stark is a king?"

"His men call him so. Isn't that what makes someone a king?" Myrcella asked. "I want this war over."

"It won't be for a long time, Cella."

"I know." She said.

"But if they're trusting you, we could get out before the war is over." Jaime said.

"What do you mean?"

"Is anyone around?" He asked.

Myrcella looked around again. There was no one, so she shook her head. "No."

"Make sure that you permanently do not have a guard." He told her. "And then every so often disappear for a little bit. Get a dagger, and leave the camp. Say you followed a butterfly or something, but always come back. You have to always come back."

Myrcella nodded. "Okay."

"Agree with them, but not too much. Hear what they have to say, and argue, but not too much. Make them think you're going to their side."

"How?"

"Be your usual sweet self." Jaime told her. "The rest will fall in place, but listen to me."

She leaned forward, listening intently.

"Do not lie with the Stark boy. Your mother will never forgive me if you get pregnant by him."

She nodded.

"Promise me." He told her. "Promise me, Cella."

"I promise." Myrcella said. "He can't marry me anyway."

Jaime shook his head. "He wouldn't marry you before. Maybe after. Don't let him. Then I cannot get you out of here, or if I do, it would be just stealing another thing that is his."

"I'm not a horse." Myrcella said.

"Doesn't matter. You would be his wife." Jaime told her. "That makes you his. We would not only have his sister in King's Landing, but his wife as well. That would only make the war go on. Do not get involved in a way you can never get out of."

Myrcella nodded. "Okay. I'll just figure it out then."

"Hey, with the rate you've been going at we could get out of here in a month." He said.

"Don't have too much faith in me. I will not hurt anyone."

"I am not asking you to. That's my job." Jaime said.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"I know. I am sorry that I am asking it of you, but we don't have a choice." Jaime told her. "For all we know it is do or die. We don't know what will happen to us here; what will happen to you."

"I know." Myrcella nodded before looking down. "I will do my best."

"I know you will. I have faith in you. Just do what your mother would do."

"I don't know if I could."

"You can. There's more of her in you than you know."

"Yes," Myrcella agreed. "I must be as strong as her to survive this, don't I?"

"That's right, Myrcella. Maybe one day you will be a queen like her."

"Only if my brothers die." Myrcella said. "I don't want anyone to die. Not even Joffery."

"Even if that will make you queen?"

"Yes."

"Then you are not as much like your mother as I thought." Jaime said. "You used to want to be queen."

"Not if it causes death for my brothers." Myrcella said. "I can't wait to see Tommen again. I will see him again, won't I?"

"You may, but no one knows the future." Jaime told her. "We need to get out of here, that's all we both know."

Myrcella saw movement out of the corner of my eye. "Someone's coming." She whispered, before saying at normal volume. "I do miss Tommen so much."

Jaime nodded, understanding what she was doing. "I know. You will be with him soon. Like you never left."

"What if we are here for a long time? What if he grows up without his elder sister to guide him?" Myrcella asked. "I rather enjoyed keeping him from our elder brother."

"I know you did, Myrcella." Jaime said. "Wait, there's blood on your hands. What happened?"

Myrcella turned her palms up, they were lightly stained with blood. Robb's blood. She closed her palms into fists. "Robb was bleeding." She said, turning her hands so the back of her hand faced the sky.

Jaime's jaw tensed. "All right, then."

The man who was walking towards them stopped."Myrcella." Theon Greyjoy said.

Myrcella looked up. "Yes?"

"I heard you lost your guard." He said. "I'm afraid I'm much harder to lose."

"Yes, I'm sure many women have tried." Jaime said from inside his cage.

"Shut it, Kingslayer." Theon snapped. "I think you have had enough family time for today, don't you Myrcella?"

Myrcella knew better than to disagree. "I would like to get the blood off my hands." She released her fists, feeling the sticky-ness of the blood on her skin. She looked up at him with big eyes. She knew how to widen them to make her look younger, like a child.

He nodded for her to get up. "Come on, then."

Myrcella looked at Jaime. "I'll see you."

"I wager you will."

XXX

Myrcella was moved to Catelyn's tent to be watched by the older woman. Myrcella wondered if this is what it was like for Sansa when she was with Cersei. A watchful eye, critically looking over her for every flaw she may have.

So what did Myrcella do? She smiled, learning from all of Sansa's mistakes and triumphs that she now saw so clearly. It was all a game. All of this. And it was one-like Sansa-she had to make it on her own. She barely had the help of her uncle to get through it. She had to gain the trust of them, and then slip away into the night.

"Sansa misses you." She told her.

"She told you that?"

Myrcella shook her head. "No. But if she loves you half as much as I love my mother I can promise she feels it. If anything, I would say she loved you more."

Catelyn just looked at her.

Myrcella knew she wanted to ask more about her daughter, but her pride kept her from it. Catelyn really wanted to hate Myrcella, and Myrcella knew it. But, Myrcella never wanted to be hated, and she wouldn't stand for it either. She wouldn't let someone hate her because of her family. There is good and bad in every war. Myrcella mostly saw the bad as the hurting and killing of other people.

"What are you intentions with my son?" Catelyn asked. "You know he is betrothed, don't you?"

Myrcella nodded. "I do. I have no intentions with him. The only intention I have is to return to my home to what is left of my family." She told the older woman. "Just as I am sure you would like to do as well."

"Do not compare yourself to me." Catelyn told her.

"Why not?" Myrcella asked. "Do not tell me that you are enjoying this war, because no one enjoys war."

"That does not make us similar."

"Fine. Then let me compare myself to Sansa. I am being held captive until the end of the war. I have been beaten. I have almost been raped, though Sansa has not gone through that. I must be calm and non-confrontational for fear of being struck. We both have guards on us, not for our own protection, but for fear we will do something to harm the plans of our captors. I can actually list a few more things I have gone through and she hasn't, if you like, including being caged."

"Are you saying my daughter is not caged?" Catelyn asked. "Because, I can tell you that the castle is just a bigger cage than you were in."

"Then she was in a cage with a feather bed and servants to dress her and brush her hair. She has good food, and at least she knows that her family is fighting for her. That the North is fighting for her. I know that my mother is the only one that would care if I should die." Myrcella countered. "She knows this war was started for her, her father, and her sister, and now it's just her and you are still fighting. We both know one of our sides will win, but what we don't know is which one will it be."

"Thank you for stating the obvious." Catelyn said sarcastically.

"You are very welcome." Myrcella replied, in the same tone Catelyn had used. "Either way we are stuck together for who knows how long. What do you think it will be like if all you do is hate me?"

"I can handle it." Catelyn said. "Your family killed my husband."

"I didn't have a part in that. You kidnapped my uncle."

"I he tried to have my son killed."

"No, he did not. Tryion would never do such a thing." Myrcella said with confidence. "And you took him, you didn't bring him before anyone, you just took him. That is what started all of this, so before you blame me take a look into the looking glass. See what the reflection tells you."

Catelyn glared at Myrcella.

"You were nice to me once." Myrcella said, her voice quieter now. "Do you remember?"

"Of course I do. It was all courtesy." Catelyn told her.

"Do you remember how Sansa loved me? How excited she was that she would become a princess? She was so in love with my brother...until she realized why no one else could stand him."

"And when did she realize that?"

"When my brother broke his promise to have mercy on her father." Myrcella said, remembering that day. She was shielded from the sight, but she did remember Sansa fainting. She did remember her screams. Myrcella didn't faint, but she did remember the commotion. How her mother reached her arm around her, and pulled her head into her neck to shield her. "We didn't think he would die. I don't think any of us did, well, except Joffery."

"And then you know about your parentage?" Catelyn asked.

"Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister." Myrcella said. "Anything else said is a lie."

"Really?" Catelyn asked. "Because you look nothing like your father."

"Neither does Robb, really. All red hair and blue eyes." Myrcella said. "Does that mean he is the child of you and your brother? There is no way to prove any of it. So your rumors, they don't bother me. You are trying to shake my faith in my family, and myself. How would you react if I did the same to you?" Mycella always knew how to get herself out of things-or how she always won arguments.

"Are you scared that it is true?" Catelyn asked her. "That the man you call uncle in a cage out there is actually your father?"

Myrcella shook her head slowly. "No. I am not." And she wasn't. She didn't believe it to be true; if it was she was sure she would be dead by now. It was just a rumor to try to humiliate her family and diminish Joffery's claim to the throne.

"Then you are a fool." Catelyn told her.

"That's fine. But no one can say that I am easily talked into a lie."