Myrcella
Today was hardly a normal day for the Princess. Robb was still away on Skagos, and it was also to be the day of Rhea's wedding.
Light snows were falling today, which Myrcella recalled Old Nan had told her was a bad omen for a wedding, though she wondered if there truly were any ill-omens for a wedding. According to the Dothraki, if a wedding had less than three deaths it was considered a dull affair, which certainly didn't fit with her own wedding where none had died.
Today, Rhea looked beautiful, wearing a silver wool dress, with a bronze cloak as well. Myrcella had helped Rhea dress for the day as well, which was a rarity between them, and for a time she had been able to set aside her thoughts of how Rhea had allowed herself to be soiled by Daemon, and stop asking what had become of her girlhood friend.
Daemon also looked beautiful today, wearing the colors of House Targaryen on him, perhaps the most handsome man she had ever seen, more than Robb, or Uncle Jaime, or Ser Loras Tyrell or Uncle Renly. His silvery hair ran straight all the way down to his shoulders, while his deep purple eyes seemed half a wonder. The only blemish on his face, the scar that started on his forehead and ran down to his cheek on the right side of his face, with only his eye not having been touched by it, made him seem more handsome. Tall and slender, he looked every bit the prince.
Joffrey could look a prince too though, Myrcella thought to herself. He was quite handsome, and even charming at times, but she knew him better than that. Tommen didn't look much like a prince himself, nor even particularly Loren, but they seemed far suited to be Princes than Joffrey all the same.
The wedding had begun with breakfast, where gifts were presented to Daemon and Rhea. For her part, Myrcella had gone first as a Lady of Winterfell, and Princess of the Throne. She had given both gifts from what she had found in the Crypts, Rhea a jeweled necklace, and to Daemon she had presented him with one of the stone dragon eggs she had found in the Crypts. For once, he had proved to be most courteous to her when he had thanked her for the gift.
She had given the rest of the eggs to Rhaenys, allowing her to decide what to do with them, but kept one as a gift to Daemon when she told him she would give one to each of her brothers, and Daenerys too, even though Daenerys had already left. To Sunspear, which Daemon had not been pleased to hear, though he masked it well.
What gold they had found was added to Winterfell's treasuries, while the rest Myrcella was holding onto for the time being, until Robb had returned. Even the gold though had been unlike anything she had ever seen, not a gold dragon of Westeros, nor even one of the golden currencies of the Free Cities, but something she had never encountered. These treasures had to have come from Valyria, though she had not the slightest idea how they got there.
Maester Luwin had suspected the eggs were from the dragon Dreamfyre, that had once resided at Winterfell, though he did mention perhaps the dragons Vermax and Silverwing also might have lain them. The rest of the treasures though, he had no idea. He suspected that perhaps the treasures had come with Lord Eddard's mother's father, Rodrik the Wandering Wolf, who had served in companies of the Free Cities.
Other gifts came from members of the household of Winterfell, and a few who had come to attend the wedding. There weren't many who had come, but there were some. Most of the gifts had been modest and thanked with little ceremony. She spent most of her time focused on the food she was eating, rather than the gifts that we're being given, though from time to time took note of the gifts.
The richest gift besides Myrcellla's had come from the armorer, Mikken, who presented Daemon with a fine suit of mail that had a dragon helm on it. Work fit for any high lord, or even a Prince.
Myrcella's own wedding, done in the customs of the Old Gods, had not featured such a ceremony for giving gifts, and she wondered if that was part of why there was such little being given out, even if she and Robb had still received plenty.
Most of her attention had gone towards eating her breakfast instead, rather than the gifts after she had given out her's, but she was dimly aware that the last few were being given.
A man that Myrcella did not know came forward. Almost no guests had come to the wedding, and she had seen everyone of the ones that had come for the wedding, which was strange then that this man was not one of them. He was holding what she could only guess to be a sword. From his heraldry, Myrcella was able to guess the man to be a knight who had come from the Vale, of House Moore, given the three bronze arrow heads that he wore on his surcoat, the same as Ser Mandon Moore's sigil.
Few liked Ser Mandon, in King's Landing, and Myrcella was no exception, particularly his pale grey eyes that seemed so lifeless it almost scared her. They had none of the warmth behind them that she had seen in Rheas or Lord Eddard, or Maester Luwin or Arya or Jon and Jeyne's grey eyes. When she was six, Ser Mandon had been assigned to be her sworn shield on the Kingsguard, following Ser Elys Westerling's death, when he had been newly risen, though Myrcella had not even made it a fortnight before she had gone crying to her mother and father, begging them to give her someone else, and so they had given her Ser Arys instead.
Myrcella felt fear as the man approached, and she realized this man might be just as dangerous than Daemon, if not more so, and so her hands had gone protectively to her belly.
"Ser, my lady," he said bowing his head. Daemon was a knight now, having been knighted by Ser Arthur Dayne seven days past to help ease the blow to Lord Royce that his daughter had been married to one of the former Targaryen Princlings. "Lord Eddard begs forgiveness that he could not be in attendance. But I have brought his gift for you."
The man put the sword on the table in front of Daemon, who drew it from the scabbard that had been quite plain on the outside.
Myrcella heard everyone gasp when they saw the sword which hardly matched the scabbard.. The pummel seemed to be simply jeweled for a moment before she saw the runes that were engraved on it. But what was more shocking was the blade itself, which had the dark ripples of Valyrian Steel. The more notable part though was the steel itself, which had a bronze tint to it, like the colors of House Royce.
Daemon took the blade in hand in admiration of it, gently swinging it to cut through air, before he placed a kiss on Rhea's lips. "Give Lord Eddard my thanks, ser. Surely such a fine blade must have a name, does it have one?"
"It does my lord. Lamentation," the knight from the Vale said with his voice that seemed to cut through the air.
Myrcella for a moment was not sure if she had heard the man correctly. She remembered that Rhea had once spoken to Myrcella of their family's lost Valyrian Steel sword, Lamentation, which had gone missing during the Storming of the Dragonpit. Even if Lord Eddard had found it, surely he would have returned it to Lord Yohn, who was a good friend of both his and her father. Never would she imagine that he would've truly given it to Daemon.
The knight bowed and turned, taking a seat at the back of the hall, while Daemon had sheathed the sword. Myrcella thought to say something, or even to follow the man as he walked away, but the words were caught in her mouth. This was Rhea's day, not her's after all. Instead she tried to watch the man for the rest of the meal, though she soon lost sight of him when he left, leaving Myrcella feeling afraid.
After breakfast came the actual ceremony itself. Both Daemon and Rhea had been named in the Light of the Seven, and so they were holding a ceremony in it's customs, but the Small Sept that Lord Eddard had built for Lady Catelyn only could hold enough space for a score of witnesses at once and even then it would be tight, which meant Myrcella herself would not be in attendance.
Instead, she was joined by Maester Luwin in the main audience hall to hear petitions people wished to lay before them. With Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn in the south, Robb had taken up being the Lord of Winterfell, but now that he was away too, Myrcella wondered if that truly made her the Lady of Winterfell still then.
She had not failed to note the many looks she had received by Northerners since Robb was gone. Few showed her much warmth at all, as though they were testing her, she thought, wanting to take advantage of her.
It might have even seemed a little funny to her, considering she was just the heir's wife, not even the Lady of Winterfell, but to have to go through it now bothered her.
She sat with other members of the Winterfell household, Hal Mollen, Donnel Marsh, Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik Cassel in the private audience chamber to hear out petitioners today, as Robb was gone.
Ser Rodrik had arrived only a few days after Robb had left, sent by Lord Eddard to serve as the formal Castellan of Winterfell, even if Robb did most the lord's duties. He had brought orders from Lord Eddard too, for Robb, but he had not divulged any of them with her.
In truth, she had little say in any of the matters and was only there because Maester Luwin felt her presence would seem proper. The only other member of the Starks still at Winterfell was Rickon, a boy just shy of four that was hardly able to be controlled long enough for this sort of meeting, which left her.
The petitions proved to be tiresome, and Myrcella spent most of the time simply trying to look interested in things as a new petition was put forward. Almost all the petitioners were told that the issue would be brought to Robb or Lord Eddard when they returned.
After the petitions were finished, Myrcella bid Maester Luwin stay behind and speak with her. "When will Lord Eddard or Lady Catelyn return?" She asked the maester, wondering if perhaps he knew. She supposed Lord Eddard was not like to be returning any time soon as father's hand, but perhaps he would return soon.
"I do not know Princess," the grey-eyed maester responded. "Lady Catelyn from what I have heard chose to remain in the south in King's Landing." Lady Catelyn going south still perplexed Myrcella, and Robb had refused to speak on the matter.
"Might Robb and I go south too?" She asked suddenly. They had after all agreed they would go south to King's Landing after their babe was born. Jon also still wanted to go south too, and Rickon needed his mother and father. Perhaps they could go south together and live in the Tower of the Hand with the rest of Robb's family. The thought made Myrcella feel happy.
"I do not think it likely my lady. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, and I'm afraid that Robb is filling that role for now," he said.
"Are… Are there others?" She asked softly. "Other Starks who could remain here instead?" She knew Robb had an uncle Benjen who had come to Winterfell when they had gone North, and been there for her wedding, but he was a sworn brother of the Night's Watch, and the First Ranger at that.
"Lord Rickard… He had a brother, Rogar. He died some years ago, but he had two children, a son Torrhen and a daughter Aranna. They are both wed with children of their own now. Perhaps I could send for Torrhen," he told her.
Myrcella nodded. "Where is he?" She wondered. If he was here, then surely they would not have to linger here for much longer then.
That wouldn't be so bad, Myrcella decided. The previous night, she had dreamt she was still in King's Landing, waking in her chambers in the royal apartments, where her bedmate had always been one of her ladies. Her brothers and sisters had been there too, even Marla, as had mother and father. She missed them more than she had realized.
Myrcella was happy to be married to Robb, but perhaps not at such a young age. All she could do was pray that Tommen and Lanna found their strength to stand up to Joffrey and his cruelties, with her not there to protect them anymore. She had written letters to them, since she had not sent any to them after they had left, and given them to Lord Connington as well.
She wondered about him too, Lord Jon, who she had sent south. He had missed Daemon's wedding to go south right away, and Myrcella wondered how her father would take to him showing up in King's Landing with a letter from her, beseeching him to restore the man to his former lands and titles.
"Last I had heard, he lived at the Dreadfort, the seat of his mother's house… I could send a letter to Lord Roose," Maester Luwin said.
"Good…" Myrcella said, feeling some little relief. Even if they couldn't go south, at least it might ease Robb's lordly duties.
"If I may… When would you mean to go south my lady?" He asked her.
When she and Robb had talked about it she had suggested after the birth, which would be coming soon she knew, but she had another thought. "Not long after Robb returns from Skagos," she said.
"My lady… You would surely not be fit to travel in… In your delicate state…" He said a little uncertain.
"I wouldn't need to ride all the way south… Only perhaps to the White Knife and we could sail south from there," she told him. She might even be able to stop at Gulltown and see Marla on her way south, and on Dragonstone to see her cousins there too.
"As you say princess… Still if you were to go it would be best to go sooner than later…" He replied. "And there would be much else to sort out too besides."
Myrcella nodded. She knew Robb would have some things to sort out, but it wouldn't require much. Most things that were of great importance were already being deferred to Lord Eddard anyways.
"Thank you maester," she said politely.
He bowed his head a little. "I am always at your service my lady," he said before he exited, leaving her alone in the private audience chamber.
She took an empty piece of paper and began to write a letter for Marla in the Vale. Myrcella knew that she needed to write one, though she didn't mention how she might be paying a visit to her soon.
When she finished writing the letter, she took it with her as she began to make for the Sept, hoping to catch a glimpse of the strange man that had given Daemon the sword, but she didn't see him at all. The ceremony between Daemon and Rhea was just finishing now, and the two were beginning to leave the Sept, no doubt headed for the Great Hall where there would be a feast.
Myrcella realized she had spent most of the day listening to petitions as the sun was beginning to set in the west already.
To her surprise, when Rhea had spotted her, she began to move towards Myrcella, and gave her a hug. The bronze cloak that she had been wearing earlier was gone, and in its place was a black cloak, bordered with red, and a red three-headed dragon sewn into it that matched Daemon's cloak.
Most of her ladies in waiting were younger than her, and even the ones that were older were usually not by very much, which meant Rhea was the first who had ever been in her service to wed. The rest would in time she knew, but it still felt strange.
When they broke apart, Myrcella allowed Rhea to return over to her new husband. For a moment she silently considered going to the Sept to pray, but she also knew there was a feast in the Great Hall. In the end her hunger won out, and she began to follow Rhea.
The walk was far shorter than the one she and Robb had taken on her wedding night, which she knew was because the Sept was much closer to the Great Hall than the Godswood, a stone's throw away at most, which was on the opposite side of the castle entirely, though she also wondered if perhaps some of it was because this was not her wedding that it seemed shorter.
In any case, Myrcella found herself seated at the high table in the Lady of Winterfell's seat, though the Lord's seat next to her remained empty. Daemon and Rhea were seated on the dias together, as the groom and bride, along with Princess Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys as well as Theon and the old knights of the Kingsguard.
They sat across from her, while Myrcella sat on her side. Her company seemed nowhere as formidable, with some of her ladies, most chiefly, Rosamund, Robb's brother, Rickon, and Ser Arys. The whole arrangement made her think of the Blacks and the Greens that she had been taught about as a child, with the families of Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra being at odds for years, until King Viserys I finally died, and war broke out, setting in motion the Dance of the Dragons.
For years she had wondered how the two women could've come to hate each other so much, but now Myrcella could see clear as day how easy divides in castles could be made. She wasn't sure if this rift was between the Starks and the Targaryens or the Baratheons and the Targaryens, but there was one.
Myrcella ate little during the feast, only eating some of the spiced chicken, and a few carrots that were the only thing that seemed good to her. She knew it would've been wise for her to eat more, but she had little room in her stomach.
Dancing had already begun, and Myrcella decided that she would. She knew it would be before long that she grew too big and wouldn't be able to dance often, so she decided to enjoy what dances she could.
Her first dance she shared with Little Walder Frey, who she had reluctantly agreed to share a dance with after he had asked her, though soon thereafter the song changed, and she ended up with Theon.
At one point she was paired with Darkstar as well, though most of their conversation had been about Rosamund. She had told him to stay out of her bed, since she didn't need another lady to be found with some man. The Dornish knight had assured her that nothing of the sort was happening, which Myrcella felt a little relieved by.
Finally, she found herself face to face with Daemon. "Ser…" She said a little surprised, before he placed his hands on her hips. She responded by placing her hands around his shoulders, as the musician began to play another song. Her swollen stomach made dancing a more difficult task, and Myrcella figured it would not be long before she wouldn't be able to until after the birth, though he seemed to be having no problems with her.
"My lady…" He greeted, his voice managing to sound calm and courteous. He had not called her princess though, which she noted. It was always my lady, never princess.
There was no love between the two of them, Myrcella knew, and she was more than aware that all eyes were on them. She knew Daemon and Robb had been best of friends once, though Myrcella had rarely seen warmth between the two of them after she arrived, and almost all of that had been before the wedding.
Myrcella had hoped perhaps the dragon egg and Daemon marrying one of her closest friends might make him softer, but she still saw some of the deeper spite and scorn on his face.
He hates me, Myrcella realized, and there was nothing she could do about it, and there was naught she could do but dance, both with Daemon, and with the strings set by their fathers.
Author Notes:
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