Myrcella

Her knees were beginning to hurt from kneeling before the Heart Tree for so long. Myrcella had simply found it impossible to sleep that night, after queer dreams had troubled her again.

She saw the sun was beginning to rise above the Walls, as light began to fill the Godswood, making for a beautiful sight. When she closed her eyes, she could still picture the area around her, listening as the birds called and hearing the nature all around her, with only the sound of her own breathing to disturb her.

Myrcella began to rise as well, though it was a struggle for her, and in the end, one of the guardsmen with her had to assist her back to her feet. She shook off the dirt from her skirts, and huddled her cloak a little tighter than before, as she began to walk away from the Godswood. As she walked, Myrcella found herself feeling heavier than ever.

She was due in the birthing bed soon she knew, and Myrcella didn't know if the prospect brought her joy or fear. Most girls didn't so much as wed before they had turned six and ten, yet she was to birth her first two years before even that.

No matter how much she tried to, she could not shake away her dreams. There was something in the crypts again, that she couldn't ignore.

After she had eaten some food, she walked towards the Old Keep with the Gargoyles. She hadn't been in the crypts, not since she had found the dragon eggs, which felt so long ago, but she grabbed a torch, and descended anyways.

Myrcella walked alone in the crypts guided by nothing, save the torchlight as she walked through the emptiness of the crypts. She walked and walked, feeling the stone kings looking on her coldly. As she walked, she tried to place names to some of them, but she couldn't remember them after the first few.

Her sons would one day be buried here as would Robb, she realized. The thought made her move her hands to her stomach protectively, where the little wolf inside her gave a kick.

Gods be good, my children haven't even been born yet I'm thinking about where they will be buried, Myrcella thought to herself.

At some point she started to feel lost in the emptiness, and turned back. Her torch was starting to dim a little. Myrcella felt the cold stone kings seemed to be watching her, judging her, considering the southern princess that walked in their place.

It was when she got to the most recent tombs that she realized what she had dreamt of. Next to the tombs of Lord Rickard, and Robb's uncle Brandon, and Lady Lyanna. Where Lord Eddard would lie, she realized, and Robb likely one day as well. She might be buried here too, though not with a statue to watch over her.

She looked over it for a moment, before she heard a low growl, and in a moment she was falling backwards to the ground, with a massive pain in her arm. A cry escaped her as she hit the ground, and suddenly the torchlight went out, leaving Myrcella in the darkness with the beast on top of her.

It was Shaggydog that was on her, snarling still as he stood over her, no doubt ready to rip her throat out at any moment. Myrcella felt fear, knowing that in an instant he could kill both her and her babe. "Rickon!" She pleaded in desperation, hoping the boy was there to call the wolf off. She wished that Robb, or Ser Arys, or even father was there, knowing they would help her, but now she was at the wolf's mercy.

Myrcella felt only a little relief when she heard the little boy's voice. "Let my father be," he demanded. His voice sounded childish, hardly proper for someone whose wolf was laying atop his good sister threatening to kill him.

"Your father's not here," she tried to assure him. She had talked down Tommen and Loren from mischief before, but neither of them were as wild as Rickon was.

"He is. In my dream-" he replied.

"Your dream?" Myrcella began to ask, thinking of her own dreams. She had dreamt of Lord Eddard's tomb as well, and for a moment she wondered if the gods could have been so cruel.

"He's coming home like he promised," Rickon said.

She realized what it meant, but couldn't find it in herself to tell the poor boy. His father was still far away, and a prisoner of Joffrey's… Unless… No, she didn't want to believe it to be true.

"I will leave your father be," Myrcella promised.

Suddenly she felt Shaggydog was off of her, as Rickon called the wolf back, leaving her be alone in the blackness of the crypts, while the boy turned and walked away.

She was all but blind in the crypts, forced to find her own way out. She knew the direction she had come from, and walked that way, for as big a struggle as she found it to be.

Twice she found herself nearly walking into the walls, but at some point she found herself at the stairs going back up.

Her arm throbbed and she could feel some of the blood running from the wound. She only prayed that she wouldn't lose too much. Somehow she managed to not trip on the hard stairs, and eventually she felt the doors ahead of her, opening it quickly, and being momentarily blinded by the sudden rush of light over her.

Myrcella knew she needed to make for Maester Luwin who was on the other side of the castle entirely. She looked at her arm. The white wool she wore on her right arm was ripped and red with blood. It wasn't as bad as she thought it might be, but it didn't matter, she needed help.

Thankfully it was Perianne who came upon her, and at once spotted her injuries. "My lady!" She called out, rushing over to her.

Perianne began to look over her arm carefully. "What happened?" She asked, managing to keep her voice calm, which Myrcella was thankful for.

"In… In the Crypts…. Rickon and his wolf were down there… And he attacked me…" Myrcella managed to let out. She felt grateful when the pup inside of her gave her a kick, as though it were letting their mother know they had not been harmed. "I… I need to see Maester Luwin…" She wasn't sure how Maester Luwin would punish Rickon, but she prayed he would be merciful on the boy.

Perianne nodded dutifully, and together they began to make in that direction.

When they reached Maester Luwin's tower, the blood had run all the way down to her hand, and was close to reaching her fingers. Seeing her arm as it was did not make for a pleasant sight, but Myrcella kept moving, until Maester Luwin saw what was the matter.

"Princess… Come quickly…" He said, beckoning her further in. He bid that she be seated at a table, and had her lay her arm upon the table before he went off to fetch some things.

While he did, Myrcella moved her other hand to her stomach. She took her mind off of the pain in her arm by considering what she ought to name her babe. She and Robb had agreed if it were a girl they would name her Joanna, though now she was not so sure that it was wise to name her daughter for her mother's mother, when it was her mother's family that Robb was at war with. But perhaps there would be a letter soon from King's Landing, telling how Lord Eddard was sailing North for Winterfell, and saying that Robb and her grandfather were making terms in the Riverlands.

She was less certain what to name a boy. Perhaps Brandon, which was a common enough name for the Starks, though Robb already had a brother named that. Or maybe Ellard, which sounded similar to Robb's father's name, and was certainly a traditional name in the North. She considered a few others, William, Beron, Torrhen, Cregan, though none of them seemed right.

But before Myrcella could make up her mind, Maester Luwin had returned.

The first thing he did was take a knife to cut off Myrcella's sleeve, though for just a moment she had feared he meant to cut off her arm. When he had cut it off, he pulled it off of her arm, leaving it exposed, and allowing Myrcella to see just how bad it was.

After he had finished that, the Maester began to wash Myrcella's wound. "It was Rickon's wolf that did this?" He asked her just before he began to pour some water on it.

"Yes.. Ohhh… It was," Myrcella said, trying to not call out from the pain in her arm, no matter how bad it hurt, as he washed away the blood. He didn't stop when she did either, so it wouldn't matter anyways.

She managed to work up the courage to talk about her dreams. "I… I had dreamt of the crypts last night… There was something there again… Like when I found the dragon eggs, but this time there was nothing…"

Maester Luwin nodded. "Dreams are queer things…"

"My dreams aren't like others though…" Myrcella began to say, while the maester began applying an ointment to her arm that stung worse than even the pain from the bite itself. "And… And Rickon dreamt of something there too… He said that I was disturbing his father… That he would be home soon…"

Her words seemed to puzzle the Maester. "That is strange Princess… But most dreams are after all…"

"When I was young… And even sometimes now… I dream of dragons," she said. She thought about how a dream had brought her to the dragon eggs in the crypts. In her youth her dreams hadn't been so meaningful, but oft as not they came true in some way.

The maester didn't seem too troubled by that though. "I suppose you would not be the first, nor will you be the last. Dragons were once a marvel and a terror after all…"

Myrcella understood what the Maester was saying, though she didn't want to add anything. Some things were best unsaid, and she remembered back to when she was young, and she had gone to Grand Maester Pycelle one night when she had a dream so scary that she couldn't sleep, but he told her it was nothing. Ultimately Myrcella had simply slept in her mother's bed that night.

Maester Luwin began to cover the wound with a soft linen bandage. It wasn't bleeding much anymore, which was good, though it still hurt terribly.

Outside though she could hear a raven that was coming in, and she spotted it through the window as well. "Maester… Something important is here," she said. Myrcella wasn't sure how she knew, but she just did by instinct.

The Maester began to give her instructions that she scarcely heard, fearing what news the raven brought. She heard it's calls were distinct from the other ravens, and with each one she felt a sense of fear.

After he had finished, he disappeared, going up to the Rookery above them to fetch the letter that had been brought. Myrcella felt tired and an urge to simply lay down, but she forced herself to stay awake, until the Maester had returned. There were tears running from his grey eyes, as she saw the letter in his hands.

"What is it?" Myrcella asked, wanting to know what the matter was. She feared the letter was about Robb, that he had been slain in battle.

"Princess… You… You are now the Lady of Winterfell…" He told her.

What happened?" She asked, feeling uncertain. Someone had died, but whether it was Robb or Lord Eddard or Lady Catelyn or all three of them was not certain to her.

"Lord Eddard… He was executed by the order of your brother." He answered.

A sense of dread set in for her quickly when she began to realize what the words meant. If Lord Eddard was slain then surely it meant Robb's war would continue. They hadn't received any word from the south about battles taking place, involving Robb, but it was only a matter of time she knew, and she could only pray he wouldn't lose.

She was more worried about herself. If Joff had Lord Eddard killed then surely the North would want her dead in revenge. Myrcella clutched her belly protectively, hoping the babe inside of her would be enough to protect her.

Now I know what I will name him if he's a boy, she thought to herself, realizing it wasn't much of a decision anymore.

More than anything though, she wanted Robb to be back at Winterfell. He needed her as she needed him, but now she was certain he would not be returning for some time.

She thought of the peace terms that they had received, how Robb would've served on the Small Council for Joffrey, and they would've been able to be together in King's Landing. They would've been hostages, but they would've been safe there.

Her brother had ruined the peace that she had been hoping for, and for that she loathed him, and her mother too. Now she was the enemy too, since she had sent Mychel and Mya away. She had insisted Ser Morton could stay, but he had chosen to return to the Vale with them. If Robb knew what they wanted now, she was certain that he would join with them.

"My lady, surely you would benefit from rest now," the Maester said to her, and Myrcella agreed.

Her injured arm was exposed for all the world to see as she walked back. Samantha and Perianne were helping her walk back to her chambers, while Ser Arys walked in front of them protectively. Myrcella realized that after she had been attacked in the crypts, and with them getting word that Lord Eddard was executed that Ser Arys was not like to be letting her out of his sight again.

By the time they reached her chambers in the Great Keep, Myrcella was exhausted, and when she lay down it felt like she had fallen onto it instead.

Myrcella had barely even gotten under the furs before she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

She dreamt of Robb dueling with Joffrey, and just when it had seemed Robb had won, a crossbow bolt took him between the shoulders through a gap in his armor, and then another in the leg, before two more in the stomach.

Robb's eyes seemed to meet with hers for a moment, and she wanted nothing more than to call out to him, before one final bolt took him in the neck, and Robb fell down.

She wanted to help him, but just then her dream shifted, and Myrcella found herself in the castle of Robb's mother, Riverrun. There was a dragon egg there, and it began to shake and shake, until it finally hatched.

The dragon was much larger than it had any right to be, and it let out a roar before it began to take flight, knocking Myrcella down with it's strong winds.

As it rose higher and higher into the clouds, Myrcella woke up. She was sweating, she realized, though she woke in her own bed, in her own body.

She was alone in her chambers now, though she didn't doubt Ser Arys stood outside of her door.

Myrcella realized she had fallen asleep in the same white wool dress that she had been wearing when Shaggydog attacked her. It was ruined now, with the blood and the cut off sleeve, and so she went over and undressed herself.

When she was completely naked, Myrcella looked over herself in the mirror. Her belly seemed so large it was ready to burst now. She felt heavy and ungainly now, fat even, while she examined the rest of herself.

The face in her mirror seemed so strange yet so unfamiliar, and Myrcella realized that it was nearly the same as her mother's face, just younger. Her bosom was much larger than it had been when she first arrived at Winterfell, while her frame was a little wider now.

She decided it didn't matter as she dressed herself in a grey gown embroidered with emeralds that covered her bodice from her neck to her bosom, that her mother had given her before they had parted ways. It was a little tight on her now, but Myrcella still wore it anyways.

Stark colors were her colors now she thought as she looked over herself in the mirror. She wasn't terribly pleased with her appearance, but it would do.

Myrcella stepped out from her chambers, into the hall outside. Ser Arys was there as she had expected, though it was Leona and Valaena who were waiting there now, rather than Perianne and Samantha.

For a moment she wasn't sure where she wanted to go, though she saw it was night again, meaning she had slept through the whole day. It was Maester Luwin she decided she needed to see, since her bandage was the faintest bit red.

She felt a little uncomfortable too, and Myrcella realized she might give birth soon, so she decided she'd rather be there at Maester Luwin's tower when the time came than not.

Ser Arys, Leona and Valaena walked with her silently through the Great Keep and out of it, before they passed by the library tower and the kitchens. They were almost to Maester Luwin's tower when Myrcella suddenly doubled over in pain, ripping off Leona's necklace as she did so.

Myrcella tried to call for help, but immediately she felt a hand go to her throat. It was Leona's she thought, but it didn't look normal, it was pale and cold, wrinkled in ways that Leona's never were. She felt herself get shoved down, hitting her head against the floor in the process, that sent a new wave of pain through her.

Valaena also fell to the ground near her, before the thing turned back to her. She looked at the figure standing above her, which was just like the hand, deathly pale, wrinkled, with deep blue lips. Myrcella tried to let out a scream, unsure if it was from fear or pain, but it didn't matter.

She suddenly felt the hand's grip loosen around her throat, and once more she could breath, but everything around her seemed awash with blood. The thing that had been Leona gave a terrible wail that didn't seem human, that Myrcella ended up responding to with a scream of her own, this one she knew to be of pain, as her vision blurred, and the world started to fade.

Author Notes:

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