Chapter Ten

A/N: Thank you to RebelKorra, Beloved Daughter and asphxbrd for reviewing the last chapter.

Myrcella sat at her window, watching her uncle ride away, a guard at either side. They were little more than specks on the horizon by now, having left the gates of Riverrun half an hour ago, but still the princess could not bear to look away. She had been given a chance to leave captivity, return to her mother and brother, but she had cast it aside, and still she did not quite know why.

When she had gone to King Robb that evening, hovering outside the command tent until the Northern lords had left him, ignoring the deathly glares they offered her, he had looked as if she had threatened to ride a cavalry to Winterfell herself. It is dangerous here, my lady, he had argued, but she would not hear of it. She was no frightened child, not anymore.

Lady Catelyn had not taken quite so kindly to the news. She had burst into her son's chambers, shouting about his foolishness. You can never trust a Lannister's word! she had cried, loud enough to shake the walls. The last time one of those golden-haired lions asked for our trust, your father lost his head.

Myrcella had not heard what happened next. King Robb had had her removed to her chamber under guard, concerned for her safety. True, Catelyn Stark was no warrior, but she was a mother, and Myrcella knew more than most how ferocious mothers could be.

The lock of the door clicked open and Myrcella fought the urge to dart to the other side of the room, her heart beating like a battle drum. 'You do not have to be afraid any longer.' she told herself, for the hundredth time, at least. Mayhaps soon she would truly believe it. 'Robb will not let any harm come to you.'

True enough, when she turned, she was faced with the king himself, the shadow of a beard across his chin only matched by the shadows beneath his eyes. The battle had been a long one, it seemed, and Myrcella tried to conceal a smirk. The king had given the order for her uncle to be sent away while his mother was too distracted to intervene.

"She's not an easy one to please, my mother." Robb explained, by way of an apology. Myrcella nodded gently. She knew the feeling well. "But she will not control me. I am King in the North as much as her son, and a good king cannot be ruled by his mother."

"Of course not." the young woman conceded. Though she had not missed the slight in his words, she knew them to be true. 'No one could ever deem Joffrey a good king.'

"Do you think our plan will work?" Myrcella had been expecting the question and yet it still came as a surprise to her. She opened her mouth to lie, but Robb raised his leather-clad hand, rendering her mute before she spoke a word. "I do not want you to tell me what you think I want to hear. It will do me no good in the end to be pandered to."

Myrcella took a little longer to speak. She would obey his command for honesty, but mayhaps there was a gentler way to do it. "I think my grandfather will have your guards slaughtered the moment they come within range. He'll have Jaime safe by his side, that is all that matters to him."

"And what about you?" Robb pressed. The answer was written behind his eyes, however little he wished it to be.

"I do not bear the Lannister name, and I never will." Myrcella explained, her voice heavy and slow. No matter how many times they had this same conversation, it seemed that Robb would never understand. "I am not his heir, or the heir to the Iron Throne. That makes me useless. I doubt that has changed over the past few years."

Robb's eyes flashed with anger, his hand gripping her arm a little too firmly to be comfortable. "Do not speak of yourself that way, I'll not hear it. You are a strong, well-read young woman who knows right from wrong. I would imagine that would be quite rare in King's Landing."

Myrcella tried to smile, but she was trembling too much. Robb saw the change in her face and instantly he relaxed his grip, taking a step back and raising his hands towards her.

"I am sorry, my lady." he professed, keeping a fair distance between them. "I should not have laid hands on you. It was a lapse of control, I hope you can forgive me."

"Of course, Your Grace." Myrcella took a deep breath, trying to dispel the clouds of fear that had gathered in her mind. King Robb meant her no harm, she was sure of it. But mayhaps her certainty was misplaced. "Your Grace, I am sorry, but I must ask. If my grandfather rejects this offer of peace and slaughters your guards, your men will call for retaliation. They will call for Lannister blood."

Robb looked her in the eye and for a moment Myrcella was lost. His eyes were as blue as the summer sky, when the sun blazed overhead. It made her think of happiness, of home; mayhaps she would never see the place again.

"I will never slaughter an innocent, no matter her family ties." He did not sound like a frightened child, the way she felt inside. He sounded like a king. Myrcella wondered for a moment when she had begun to address him as such. "You shall remain here at my camp, under my protection, so long as it is safe for you to do so. And once this war is over, you may choose your own path, whatever you wish it to be. I give you my word."

Myrcella let out a gentle laugh, her fears long forgotten. For all the horrors her mother had told her of the Starks, the tales that were whispered through the capital, their word was their bond. If Robb had promised her safety until the war's end, then she would be safe.

The girl's brow furrowed, as she tried to remember the last time she felt truly secure. Even with the queen's watchful eye over her nursery, King's Landing was a viper's nest filled with cutthroats and opportunists. And yet here, hundreds of miles north of the place she was raised, Myrcella finally felt a comfort she had never been allowed to experience in the Red Keep.

She finally felt at home.

A/N: I know it's not the greatest chapter, but the war is going to kick up a gear now, and I wanted a quiet moment to reaffirm the Robbcella relationship before that happens. Please review!