Myrcella
Myrcella dreamt of dragons, as she had hundreds of times before. The beautiful creatures were soaring in the sky. When she was younger she had wished to tame one for herself, and to ride one, though she had been quite disappointed to learn the last had died over 150 years before in the reign of King Aegon the Unlucky.
But as they danced in the sky, suddenly she found herself in the earth, the crypts, she recognized from what she had seen when Robb had shown her in another dream. She felt herself walking, until a point when she couldn't go any further. The stone lords were there, but suddenly she felt the floor drop out from under her, and she was falling.
When she could finally focus on what she was dreaming of, she found herself in a place she did not know. It reminded her of Dragonstone, the seat of her uncle, Lord Stannis, which she had seen several times before, yet this was not Dragonstone. There was no great citadel or gargoyles in the shape of dragons made out of fused black stone. She wandered the island for a bit, until eventually she came upon a cave, and she walked through it. Something important is in there, she knew, and though she misliked it, she forced herself to enter.
She walked through the cavernous tunnel alone in what should've been complete darkness, though with it being her dream, she could see just fine. As she wandered she came upon blackened and charred bones of various animals, even some human, and even two dragon eggs, yet she pressed on until she came upon a cavern more open than the rest.
When she looked around she gasped, as there was a great black dragon with menacing green eyes, that was eating a smaller green dragon.
Myrcella thought to scream or run away, yet the dragon looked up at her and opened his mouth, and she felt a rush of heat wash over her, before she woke with a start.
She was still next to Robb at Winterfell in their bedchamber. She tried to remember the last time she had a dragon dream. None since she had wed Robb as far as she could remember, or even since they had started north towards Winterfell.
When she was young she had spoken to Grand Maester Pycelle about them, but he had only told her that her dreams had no meaning. Her mother had taken a little more interest in their contents, but tried to assure her it was nothing. It was only Uncle Tyrion that ever truly cared about her dreams.
Robb was still sleeping soundly next to her. It was good to have a husband who did not snore, Myrcella thought, though unfortunately it came with the trade off of him howling in his sleep many a night, so for him to have a night when he didn't was good.
Myrcella also felt a little flutter in her tummy. Two days past she had felt the pup inside her move for the first time. Maester Luwin had told her that she was feeling movements a little earlier than most did when carrying their first child, but assured her it was fine.
Then she remembered. Today was to be the day that Robb would be leaving for Skagos.
Myrcella had tried to convince Robb not to go himself, or to leave the Skagosi be entirely, yet he would not heed her. And there was something about her dream as well, that made her nervous about it.
She placed a kiss on Robb's lips as he remained asleep before she paid a visit to the privy to make water, and began to dress herself.
Today she dressed herself in a white wool dress, lined with furs, that she had taken from Robb's sister, Jeyne. It looked good on her, she decided when she looked at herself in the mirror, and she left their chambers to break her fast. It was tight around her belly, and soon she knew she would need to dress in clothes that proved to be more accommodating, but it didn't matter.
When she made it to the main hall, she took some of the food before her, and ate it quite greedily, such that she was sure her mother would've scolded her for not acting a proper lady, but it didn't matter. She was hungry, and eggs, sausage, bread, and half of everything else on the table she ate.
As she had finished she started to find her way out of the hall, though was surprised to see how many people were there, though Robb was not there.
She tried to find people that she knew among the hall, and spotted Rosamund who was sitting with Ser Gerold Dayne, the one they called Darkstar. Myrcella had not failed to note the looks she gave Darkstar, and had taken care to ensure Rosamund did not find herself in his bed as Rhea had found herself in Daemon's.
In the distance, Myrcella spotted Princess Elia was speaking with her son, Aegon, and a little further off she saw Theon's wife, Rhaenys walk into the hall arm in arm with Jon, while Theon himself sat much further off with both his children, which struck her as queer.
She left the hall, tailed by Eleyna and Arwyn, as she went to try and find Robb.
Her search cost her much of the morning, before she finally found him, mounted in the courtyard, ready to leave. Today Robb wore mail covered in boiled mail, while he was mounted upon his grey destrier.
"Where were you?" Myrcella asked him when she finally caught his attention.
Robb shrugged. "You found me my lady," he said.
"Please Robb… Please don't go…" She had pleaded with him several times before, but it had failed. She hoped that this time her pleas would be successful.
"I have to Myrcella…" Robb said, his voice seeming certain.
Myrcella was not pleased with his answer. "You don't…" She remembered him lying motionless in the stream, fallen from his horse. Surely he would have to see sense.
"I could leave Greywind with you…" He offered, no doubt hoping it would make her feel better.
She shook her head, "No, you will need him. He is part of you," she said, thinking back to all those nights she had heard Robb howl in his sleep. As a girl she had often been told tales of skinchangers and wargs, beasts in human flesh, but little did she realize that she would end up marrying one.
"As you say Myrcella… I have to go…" Robb said.
"Be safe then…" Myrcella finally managed to say to him.
She watched as others began to say their goodbyes, before the gates finally opened, and the men that had been assembled began to stream out of the castle.
Myrcella stood as Robb began to ride out of the castle, at the head of a colum of men, riding east out through the Winter Town, and beyond towards the Kingsroad and further out beyond that.
When she turned around, she had expected to see one of her ladies, but to her surprise it was the Lost Lord, Jon Connington who stood behind her, watching the party fade in the distance.
"My lord?" She called to him.
He had been King Aerys's Hand once, Myrcella remembered, and a loyal friend to Prince Rhaegar, though for his failures to defeat her father at the Bells, the Mad King had exiled him, stripping House Connington of all its lands, titles and incomes. When father took the throne, he had restored House Connington to some of its former power, but according to tales, Lord Connington had drunk himself to death while in exile, though that was plainly not true.
She had also not failed to note the looks of disdain he gave her.
"Yes, my lady?" The man said, struggling to even let out a proper title for her.
"Walk with me," she said, trying to maintain a courteous voice.
He looked at her for a moment as if he were trying to judge what sort of strange creature she was, before she spoke again. "It is improper to tell a princess no," she said.
"You're not-" He started to say, before Myrcella stopped him.
"Any less than you're a lord," she finished, and instead she offered him her arm, which he reluctantly took, and together they walked with one another, towards the Great Keep. When they got to the Great Keep, he led her up the stairs towards the covered bridge that commanded a view over the whole yard below.
"What did you wish to speak to me about?" He asked.
"A lady ought to know her people, shouldn't she?" She said, as meekly as she could manage.
"I'm not one of your people…" He insisted.
"You live at Winterfell," Myrcella countered, and that seemed to silence his protests. She sat up against the sill, putting one leg up so that she could easily both look to Connington and the yard below. "As a girl my father spoke of a Griffin Lord that he had faced at the Battle of the Bells, and slew Lord Arryn's heir before facing my father in battle. He lost, and was exiled before he drank himself to death. Yet he stands before me at Winterfell… How?"
"I do not know where the tale came from that I drank myself to death. I had served amidst the Golden Company for some time until I sought to return to Westeros, to swear my sword for Rhaegar's son," Jon Connington told her.
"You hate me because my father did not recall you from exile and restore you to your lands?" Myrcella asked.
The lord didn't answer at first. There was something deeper than that, she saw plain as day, but she didn't know what.
"After… After I heard that Rhaegar was slain on the Trident, I vowed I would not rest until the Usurper and his children were dead, and Rhaegar's sons were seated atop the throne," he said.
And that means me too then, Myrcella thought to herself. She wondered why she still was speaking to him, or why she didn't just tell Robb to expel him from the castle. He was more intriguing than threatening, Myrcella realized, and that was why she hadn't ordered him away.
Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent were all in service at Winterfell too, but had shown her none of the disdain that Connington had. The only one who seemed to dislike her quite as much as he did was Daemon, and Myrcella wondered if that was why she was interested in him.
"Careful then my lord… With a word I could have your head mounted atop a spike. But with a word to my father, and I could have you returned to your keep, Griffin's End, and made a Lord again, just as easily. You would do well to remember that," she told him.
"Griffin's Roost," he muttered. She had hoped the promise of returning to his lands might entice him, but it seemed it hadn't.
"You were once one of the Greatest Lords of Westeros… Surely you have a wife do you not?" Myrcella asked. He had come alone as far as she could tell, and no wife or children had turned up since he had arrived.
"Aye… Alayne… She remains across the Narrow Sea with our children. She preferred to remain with them in our mance there, rather than coming this far North," he said bitterly. "She had been the Maid of Honor at the Greatest Tourney there ever was, yet she ended up with me far away."
Myrcella thought for a moment before she realized the Tourney he was speaking of, the Tourney of Harrenhal, that had been held in the year of the False Spring. If she recalled, the Maid of Honor had been the daughter of Lord Walter and Lady Shella Whent, though little was said of what became of her.
"Surely it would please you then to have them returned to Westeros, that they might inherit Griffin's Roost to pass to their children as well," Myrcella said. She thought about the babe growing in her own belly, what she would do to ensure they were safe and happy. That felt more valuable to her than loyalty to some king long dead.
There was a small hunger in his eyes that she could see. He wanted what she had to offer him, even if it meant betraying the Mad King's.
"What would you have of me?" Lord Connington asked her, and she knew she had won.
"Loyalty to my father, and my brothers after him, and you can be restored to your lands. I can write to my father and good father, and when you ride south they will give them to you," she told him.
He gave her a suspicious look, and she saw he was not trusting in the offer she was giving to him. Myrcella wondered what madness was had overtaken her as well, but that was before he responded, "I will then… Princess…"
She thought to perhaps say something, or at least expected him to say more, but instead he took one more glance out over the yard below, before he left her.
The sound of steel rang throughout the yard, making for a constant song of sorts. She watched them below for a few moments in silence, while the red haired lord walked away.
To her surprise though, Ser Arys stepped out after the Griffin Knight was gone. "Princess… Such a man is dangerous, and you would do well to avoid him."
"He is… But that doesn't matter," Myrcella said. Her father was a dangerous man, uncle Jaime and uncle Stannis too, and Robb could often be dangerous. Him being dangerous didn't make him much different from other men.
Winterfell was the seat of her father's best friend and staunchest supporter, yet it was filled with men who had once been loyal to the Mad King and Prince Rhaegar, which had left her feeling uneasy. And with Rhea to wed Daemon now, she felt the need to remove some of them, for fear that when the time came they would rise against her father. If they did that, she would be the first to suffer then.
"Remind me that I will need to write a letter for him," Myrcella said, before she put her leg down.
"Where are you going Princess?" Ser Arys asked her, with an uncertain look to her.
"The crypts…" She decided just then. Her dreams had to have meant something. There was something waiting for her there.
They walked through the Great Keep, with Myrcella grabbing a pair of gloves to wear as she went quickly. Ser Arys kept up with her, though he was confused. He didn't know where the crypts were, nor had anyone shown her where they were, but she knew where they were.
They walked past the guard hall towards the Old Keep, and she spotted the Broken Tower looming when she finally spotted the old Gargoyles that marked the entrance to the crypts.
Thankfully there were torches nearby that they could grab, and before long they were descending down into the crypts beneath the earth.
The crypts were cold and dark, lit only by the torch she carried with her, and the one that Ser Arys had brought. She was thankful the dress was fur lined, and that she had thought to get gloves before she went down.
Myrcella had never been in the crypts, save in dreams, yet somehow she didn't feel lost. She walked forward, descending the steps, and then continuing on. Dimly she was aware of Ser Arys as he followed her, seeming uncertain as she went, For the longest time it seemed the crypts were empty, saved for future tombs she realized, as she walked further and further, until she finally reached actual tombs.
The first one she realized to be Lord Eddard's tomb, no doubt constructed after he had returned home from war, since he was the Lord of Winterfell now. The others she guessed to be Robb's grandfather, aunt and uncle, Lord Rickard, Lady Lyanna and Brandon.
For a moment she tried to imagine Lady Lyanna as her mother, thinking back to how her father had been betrothed to her. She wondered if she would even still have wed Robb, or what she would look like even. Surely she would not look as she did now, taking heavily after her mother, looking every bit a Lannister without a trace of father in her. She'd either have the older Stark look or look like a proper Baratheon she decided.
Lady Lyanna had often gone unmentioned when Myrcella spoke with her mother and father, but she always seemed to be present when they spoke. Neither had told her much, and while Robb and Lord Eddard had told her more, there was still much she did not know.
She kept walking though, ignoring those thoughts, looking at the older tombs as she went. Myrcella remembered that she had been told tombs were only for the Lords of Winterfell and Kings of Winter, save for three, Brandon, Lyanna, and Lord Donner and Lord Willam's brother, Artos, known as the Implacable.
After continuing silently past some of the earlier tombs, she saw that there was one with a crown, the Kings of Winter who ruled before Aegon's conquest she realized. The place in her dreams was more recent than that, and she turned back.
Others were buried as well in the crypts, but those that weren't lords or kings didn't have tombs of their own, and soon she stopped when she realized she found the place from her dreams, between two statues of lords she didn't know.
The stone plaque that bore no markings save for a single three headed dragon lay surrounded by dirt, There was something here she realized, something buried here…
For a moment she wondered if it would be buried underneath the stone, but she brushed some of the dirt, and saw that there was wood underneath it. She began to move more and more, until the wood ended, and there was stone to all sides.
There was a trapdoor here, she realized, one that she had found. She tried to open it, though it as she pulled, it didn't budge.
"Princess… It is not wise to disturb the dead…" Ser Arys said when she was finished.
She looked at the white knight who stood over her, watching. "There is something down there. Something I have to find. I dreamt it Ser."
Often she had told him of her dreams, and he knew that the ones she was talking about were not common dreams, so he stepped forward. "Allow me then, giving the two torches to her now, and beginning to pull on the trapdoor.
It took him some effort, but after he was able to open the door, revealing a way down that seemed strange.
There was a ladder going down, and Myrcella stepped forward going first, rather than Ser Arys, wanting to explore what she had found. She must have been the first to find this since it had been sealed she realized, as she climbed down.
The room was dark though, and it was only when Ser Arys had reached down and given Myrcella one of the Torches that she could see what was in the chamber.
When she finally saw it, Myrcella found herself in awe at the treasures that lay before her.
"Princess?" Ser Arys called out to her from above.
"I'm fine," she told him, looking at what lay before her. There were rubies, and gems and gold, all there, but what surprised her more where the dragon eggs. She had only seen a dragon egg once before, when visiting Lord Stannis's seat of Dragonstone with her father, and these like the one she had seen before was completely stone.
There was a suit of chainmail and a longsword that she realized both boasted the dark ripples of Valyrian Steel.
Myrcella found herself wondering how these treasures had managed to find themselves in the crypts of Winterfell. She remembered three Starks had taken Targaryens to wife before, though she had forgotten their names and figured that must have been how, but even that made little sense to her.
She turned and looked up to see Ser Arys was looking down through the trapdoor. She realized all of this had been laying beneath their feet as they walked through, and wondered just how many Starks had walked over it without ever stopping to think that this could be beneath them.
Robb must have for a certainty, she thought, and his siblings too must like, but she didn't know how many others there were that had passed over it without ever realizing.
"I think I will need some help Ser," she called up to him.
Author Notes:
So what's the deal with Jon Connington I hear you all asking. Don't worry, we'll get his POV eventually when all shall be answered.
There's been a small passage of time between last chapter and this new chapter. Robb isn't off to Skagos immediately after he gets home or anything.
Before everyone starts asking what the hell is going on with all the stuff in the crypts and dragon dreams, do note that the lore has been altered in this fic. Some time soon I will be posting under a separate work a few Fire & Blood formatted chapters detailing these changes that should give you an idea as to where all the stuff in the crypts came from…
Myrcella hints a little bit at where, with the three Starks who took Targaryens as brides, but explaining that would be too much for these notes.
As for Myrcella's dragon dreams, they're actually fairly simple. Lord Loreon Lannister, the son of Jason Lannister and Joanna Westerling, was aged up, and after Rhaena (daughter of Daemon) Targaryen's Corbray husband died, she married Loreon instead of Garmund Hightower.
Additionally, Elaena Targaryen's first trueborn (or "trueborn," depending on who you ask), Viserys Plumm likely had descendants who in some way have married into House Lannister.
With this chapter, and the next few (Jeyne III, Catelyn III, Myrcella IV, and Rhaenys IV), I'm just posting them in the order that I finish them. My best guess is that we'll have Jeyne, then Rhaenys, then Catelyn, but honestly we'll see.
Thank you guys for reading as always, and I welcome all follows, favorites, and reviews. They mean a lot to me.
ASOIAF rightfully belongs to GRRM.