Maybe that's why she did what she did, two years as a hostage of the Starks, her chance to escape and she didn't take it. When the entire Stark host had moved North to Moat Cailin and the Twins for Edmure Tully's wedding to one of Lord Frey's daughters. Myrcella of course, went with them. Afterall, she was their last valuable hostage. Myrcella remembered the day Robb and his council told her that she would be traveling with them. She stepped into the chamber where Robb held his council. No one had noticed her at first, they were discussing something about Rickon Stark, apparently he and Bran Stark were alive! After the Greyjoy invasion of Winterfell it was thought that the boys had been killed. Bran's whereabouts were unknown, yet somehow the youngest Stark was found with his Wildling nanny Osha and his direwolf, Shaggydog near Castle Black. Apparently, Jon Snow had still been at the Wall, Robb ordered Jon to take Rickon to Essos with him to find Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons. Myrcella wondered if any of Robb's council knew the truth about Jon Snow. Robb had finally looked over and seen her standing in the corner of the chamber, he had smiled at her and asked her to come forward. Then he told Myrcella that she would leave Riverrun with the rest of them. All talk of Jon Snow and Rickon Stark seemingly forgotten.
Robb was supposed to marry the Frey girl originally but something happened and that fell through, probably because of his affair with Talisa, because Robb announced that he would marry Talisa when they retook Winterfell. But something had changed between the King and the healer. They no longer seemed as close as before, Talisa seemed to stiffen and grimace any time the future wedding was brought up. Talisa also became colder towards her for some strange reason. Myrcella would never claim that she and the healer had been very close, but they had at least been somewhat friendly towards each other. Now Talisa would actively avoid Myrcella, several times Myrcella actually caught Talisa glaring at her.
Myrcella had been uneasy at the wedding from the start. Then she noticed a familiar commander, then the song began, her family's song. Knowing something was horribly wrong she leapt from her seat next to Robb's mother screaming that it was a trap.
Apparently, no one had expected her to throw her lot in with the Starks, not even Myrcella herself. Then there was chaos and blood, so much blood. She saw Talisa fall, then Lady Stark was pushing her and several northern lords to Robb. Everything happened so fast, she found herself running behind Greatjon Umber and Dacey Mormont who were dragging a half-conscious Robb between them. There were crossbow bolts in his torso and leg and Lady Catelyn was yelling but then she was just gone. Somehow the motley group got to the river and by sheer luck found a boat.
They jumped in and Myrcella paused. This would be her chance to go home. But if she did, she would once again be an unwilling puppet in this Game of Thrones. It would cost her, her life, just like her father Robert, Lord Stark, all the people at this wedding, and Seven knows who else. So, she did the stupid, selfish thing and helped push the skiff into the river before tumbling into the boat, much to the shock of the Northmen and Rivermen inside.
"Why the hell would you do that? You could have gone home to your family." Dacey Mormont yelled as the current carried them away from the slaughter at the Twins. Myrcella knew little of the Mormont woman. She was two and twenty, comely, with long brown hair braided down her back and a crass attitude. But she always seemed nice enough.
"I wanted to stay free. If I had returned with the Lannister and Frey soldiers my mother and grandfather would ship me off again just as fast for some stupid political marriage. I am more a prisoner to them than I have ever been with King Robb" She paused trying not to cry,
"And because of this freedom I've come to see my family's faults much more clearly now. They would abuse the guest rite, and who knows what else to say in power. I want none of that." Myrcella replied before turning to help the unconscious Robb with his wounds.
There was little anyone could do in the boat. Along with herself, Robb, and Dacey, there was the Greatjon and six Stark and Tully men. Robb finally regained conscious and refused any help with the bolts. They tried to stop him, but he pulled the one embedded in his shoulder out, then the one in his side. The Greatjon wrangled him before he could touch the one in his leg. It was too close to the artery to safely remove.
Silence eventually fell on the small boat. Everyone finally processing the massacre at the Twins. Myrcella pulled her knees to her chest, these people had just watched their friends, their comrades, and family be brutally slaughtered. Even the Greatjon was quiet, a rare thing indeed. The boisterous lord was always yelling and bombastic. He fit all the stereotypes of the north she had been told as a child, big and hairy, caring only for drinking and fighting. If the rumors were true, the Greatjon had simply laughed after Greywind bit several of his fingers off. Greywind, the direwolf had been locked up after their arrival at the Twins. Myrcella feared that the majestic wolf's fate would be as bloody as the rest of the Northern army's.
Lady Dacey sat next to the Greatjon, tears running freely down her cheeks. Dacey's mother was at the Twins, killed in the escape. The other soldiers, some looked younger than herself while others were more grizzled and had seen more battles, but they all had the same numb, far unseeing look. Then there was Robb, he was laying on the bottom of the boat, crude bandages made from tearing away strips of her own dress were tied around his wounds. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, even in the dark of night Myrcella could see how pale he was, it worried her. She quietly moved to sit next to the wounded king, using a bit of her skirt she wiped his sweat soaked brow.
"Your Grace," She whispered. Nothing, "Robb." She had no right to call him by name, she was still technically the King in the North's hostage. Finally, he blearily opened his eyes. "Can I do anything?"
"Dead." Robb croaked, "Mother… Talisa… because of me..." Myrcella took Robb's cold and clammy hand into her own.
"No. It was the Freys and the Boltons and… and my family. No one could have known they would betray their king."
"Why, Ella? Why?" Myrcella tried to blink back tears and failed. To see a man, a king she had grown to respect and admire, and maybe, possibly, ok definitely, love. Brought so low and so broken in just one night, it broke her heart. She wiped his brow again.
"Rest… Robb." Robb Starks eyes slid shut and he faded from consciousness again. Myrcella let out another sob and looked up to see Lady Dacey staring at her with an unreadable expression.
"I'm sorry- "
"Stop. Just stop apologizing for ever damn thing." Dacey hissed wiping her nose with her sleeve. "Apologizing is making you weak. You can't be weak right now. We are going to be hunted and Old Gods save us if we are caught. You may get to live, but the rest of us would be strung up faster than you could even dream, girl." Dacey spoke coldly and sharply. She was right. Myrcella took a breath.
"Alright. What do you need me to do to help?" If the Mormont woman was at all taken aback at Myrcella's agreement the North woman didn't let anything show.
"These fucks aren't capable of anything right now." Dacey said looking around at their sad party. "There's two oars, we'll need to row as far down stream as we can tonight. We can't stop." Dacey reached down and picked up the oar and tossed it to Myrcella, who barely managed to catch it. "As soon as day breaks, we'll need to abandon the river. Set the boat adrift and make for the backwoods of the Riverland's. We'll need to stay off all roads and get as far away from the Twins as possible."
"We can't go North. Our best bet will be to try and get to the Vale. They're the only ones who've managed to stay neutral in the war." Myrcella stated.
Dacey looked at her curiously.
"Looks like you do have a brain in that pretty Lannister head of yours' princess." Myrcella felt insulted.
"Of course, I have a bloody brain. How do you think I survived living in shithole that's Kings Landing?" Myrcella retorted, proud of herself for actually swearing.
Dacey grinned at that. The little lioness had some spirit.
"Carefully little lioness." The she-bear replied. "I may start to actually like you."
"The feeling is mutual." Myrcella paused. "Call my Myrcella, or Ella if you like." She couldn't help but think of how Robb had feverously botched her name. Ella, she liked the sound of it. She'd never had a nickname before. "Also, I have no idea how to use this." She lifted the oar awkwardly. Dacey rolled her eyes.
"Right then, Ella. Introduction to rowing," Myrcella listened to Dacey and soon the two women were rowing down the Green Fork, as night moved around them. As dawn painted the eastern horizon the men finally seemed to wake from their stupor.
The Greatjon even laughed at Myrcella's poor rowing before grabbing the oar and telling her to, "Just sit like the little princess you are."
Before guffawing the fact, she had actually abandoned her family and the Lannister cause. Robb was still in a bad way but he was awake and aware. He was incredibly pale and clammy. He had lost too much blood. As soon as the sun was visible their little group found a place to pull ashore.
Greatjon grabbed Myrcella by the waist and almost tossed her to shore, she stumbled but managed to stay on her feet. After everyone was out of the boat, she, Dacey and several of the soldiers pushed the boat back into the current, watching as it traveled downstream.
"Let's move." Dacey said.
And soon they were making their way through the woods of the Riverlands, using the Green Fork and sun as landmarks. The men took turns helping Robb walk while Myrcella helped Dacey scout and clear paths. The northern woman was incredibly patient with her, answering all her questions and showing her how to read the signs of the forest.
"On Bear Island, there aren't enough people to worry about women's and men's work. You do it all or you'll end up fucked." Dacey stated.
Myrcella found herself wanting to meet the other women of Bear Island. Wondering if they were all as tough as Dacey. They didn't stop until well after midday. They stopped to drink from a small tributary that fed the Green Fork, Dacey had gone off in search of something edible and Myrcella decided she needed to take another look at Robb's wounds. She was by no means a healer, but she had never squirmed at the sight of blood and it was clear he was suffering and in pain.
"Robb." Robb looked over at her from where he sat. "I need to look at your wounds."
"No. It's fine Myrcella."
"Please. You were shot three times, let me at least clean and re-wrap them. If they fester, then."
"Fine just get it over with." He replied shortly. She tried to ignore the hurt that flashed through her, but it must have shown on her face as Robb quickly looked away.
Myrcella tore several more strips of fabric from her skirt. It was getting a bit short for comfort but was all she could do. Going to the little creek she soaked the improvised bandages before going back to Robb. Kneeling next to him, she untied the wrap on his leg, the fabric was stuck, blood gluing it to the wound. Robb hissed in pain as Myrcella pried it away and tossed the bandage aside. Dark red blood began to slowly leak from the wound. The bolt was still in there. Carefully, she moved the edge of his breeches aside and dabbed at the blood. Cleaning it the best she could, she wrapped it again and silently moved to the wound on his side.
"I'm sorry for being short with you."
Myrcella looked up from wrapping his shoulder. Their faces were only inches away from each other, she really never realized how incredibly blue his eyes were, comparing them to the blue sky didn't seem enough anymore, and his lips they looked so very kissable. Like out of one of those erotic novels she had found in her old Septa's rooms. Wait, he had said something.
"What?" She asked weakly.
"I've no right to be angry with you. You saved us, saved me. You are a true friend, you turned back on your family. I can't imagine how that must have felt."
Myrcella was at a loss at what she could possibly say. She struggled for a moment, Robb searching her face for some kind of answer.
"You have every right to take your anger out on me. I'm a Lannister, my grandfather and mother must have orchestrated Walder Frey's and Lord Bolton's betrayal."
"But you are not them. You are nothing like Tywin or Cersei." Then to Myrcella's utter shock Robb took her hand in his, raised it to his lips and gently kissed it. "You are a good woman Ella."
Myrcella's cheeks warmed. Smiling weakly, she gathered the soiled bandages. Mother's Mercy, he remembered last night.
"I, I need to go throw these in the river or else someone could track us… or something." She rushed off quickly, trying to ignore the flutters in her stomach. He had just lost his lover and his mother. Robb saw her as a friend and nothing more.
When they started moving again, it was away from the Green Fork and further to the east, they used the little tributary creek as their guide as it most likely originated somewhere in the Vale. They crossed the Kingsroad just after sundown and kept going late into the night. Finally, when Myrcella thought her feet were about to finally just fall off Dacey and the Greatjon had them stop.
"Right, you shits. Rest up I've got first watch!" The Lord of Last Hearth bellowed. He pointed at a scrawny soldier, the youngest in their company. "You boy!" The boy looked about ready to piss himself.
"Petey, milord."
"Petey? What kind of shite name is that!" Poor Petey shrugged weakly. "Whatever. You've got watch after!"
The Greatjon was quite the character. Because of how close to the Kingsroad they were there was no fire all they had to eat were some berries and edible moss Dacey and the older Riverland soldier had managed to collect. Dacey also set a snare in hopes of catching something during the night. Myrcella was exhausted, cold, and hungry, but as soon as she lay down next to Robb, just to keep an eye on his wounds, she told herself, she quickly passed out. Myrcella had no idea how long she slept, only it was not long enough, groggily she awoke to the distinct bellows of Greatjon Umber. Sitting up she rubbed the grit from her eyes. Looking around it was clear that it was just barely dawn.
"How the fuck could they just walk away!" Myrcella looked around confused, Greatjon was yelling at the skinny northern boy, Petey. It was then she realized two of the Riverland soldiers were gone. The only one left was the man who had found the moss to eat. He and the two other northern soldiers sat chewing on more moss watching the lord tear the boy soldier a new one.
"They, they said that they had the next watch…." Petey argued weakly.
"I should cut off your balls and stuff them up your sorry-
"Lord Umber!" Robb raised his voice, cutting off the older lord. Robb pulled himself up, carefully keeping most of his weight off his injured leg.
"Leave the lad be. He couldn't have known those two fools would turn craven."
"Your Grace."
"Enough. They are responsible for their own way. It's not any of our concern anymore. We must keep moving to the Vale." Lord Umber shot the boy one last nasty look and then they were moving yet again.
Petey, trying to redeem himself to Lord Umber volunteered to help Robb walk. It was slow going, everyone was exhausted but kept moving for fear of being caught. Besides Petey, who apparently grew up on a farm near Winterfell, Myrcella learned that the other Northern soldiers were named Jay and Toby, brothers who had grown up in Torrhen's Square. The remaining Riverland soldier was an old veteran who had fought back in Robert's Rebellion. He was called Griffin and was a woodsman when not soldiering. When Myrcella finally got the courage to ask what made them take up arms. The four all said it was for money. None of them cared who sat on the Iron Throne, as long as they had food and a roof over their heads.
"Then why are you still here?"
"Because lass, now it's personal." Jay, the younger brother said.
"Breaking the guest rite ain't right." Toby continued. "Besides, even if we be soldiering for money don't mean we can't also be loyal."
Myrcella looked back to where Petey struggled to keep Robb walking. The boy was certainly trying to prove his loyalty in any way possible, Robb looked about ready to throttle him.
"The Young Wolf, he's something I haven't seen since the Rebellion." Mumbled Griffin. "Could be a great leader one day. Just like how the Dragon Prince could have been great."
"I think you are right ser." Myrcella replied.
"Ain't no sers here Princess."
"I don't know. You gentlemen seem to be more chivalrous than any of the knights back in Kings Landing. She could swear all three of these burly and battle-hardened soldiers blushed from head to toe.
The group fell into an easy pattern, walk, rest, walk some more, stop late at night, start again at the break of dawn. Myrcella was taking her turn helping Robb walk, Dacey was ahead skinning a rabbit she had caught earlier while she walked. The Greatjon was telling some story about Wildlings gesturing wildly and of course, loudly. The soldiers listened to the lord with rapt attention. Dacey looked back at Myrcella and Robb and rolled her eyes at the Greatjon's outlandish tale. It was strangely peaceful, like they were not in fact, running for their very lives.
"Robb, are you doing ok? I'm sure we can rest soon."
"No, I'm fine Ella." Things had become very informal between the two of them, however the rest still referred to Robb as King Robb or Your Grace. Myrcella had tried to tell them they did not have to be formal with her. Sometimes they called her Myrcella, but mostly they called her Princess.
The soldiers wouldn't even consider calling her by her new nickname even if she had said it was perfectly fine. She was still a noble, they had said. It was just not right in there minds to be so informal. Myrcella was afraid to admit that she was enjoying the comradery and company of the group.
"Stop." It was Griffin, he was leading the group. Everyone froze, Myrcella struggled to adjust her hold on Robb. "Lady Dacey, Lord Umber. Up ahead, smells of smoke." Dacey handed the half-skinned rabbit to Petey.
"Could be a hamlet or village, could just be a camp." Myrcella helped Robb up to the front. Dacey pulled her axe from her belt.
"Your Grace, I'll go ahead and see if we are dealing with friend or foe."
"Go Dacey, but be careful." Dacey nodded and swiftly disappeared into the woods.
Myrcella could smell the smoke now, along with something else, she couldn't place it, but it made the hairs on her neck stand up.
"I don't like this, Your Grace." Umber grumbled. "Somethin ain't right."
Myrcella wrung her hands waiting for Dacey to return. Something moved in the forests the soldiers drew their swords but relaxed as Dacey reappeared. Her face was ashen, and she returned she placed her axe back on her belt.
"It's a farmer's hamlet, we won't have to worry about the people."
"Why?" Myrcella asked hesitantly, she feared that she already knew the answer.
"They're all dead."
There were several cottages all close together smoke billowed from the burned-out husk of one. The people were spread out all over, flies buzzed lazily from corpse to corpse. Myrcella gagged, finally remembering the smell. Joffrey loved forcing her and Tommen to go on the Traitor's Walk and look at the rotting heads of petty criminals. It looked like the people were left where they were cut down, tables were overturned, fences broken, one cottage had a little garden in the front, it had been trampled.
"Whoever did this is long gone. Bodies are days old."
"Who could have done this?"
"I don't know. If it had been bandits then they would have taken everything then burned it all down, not just the one shack."
"The Mountain." Myrcella turned to Robb.
"What?" She asked.
"This is the Mountain's work. I recognize it from the villages around Harrenhal." Myrcella shivered. The Mountain, Gregor Clegane terrified her, he was infamous, it didn't help that his brother had been Joffrey's sworn sword.
"What could the Mountain be doing this far north?" Dacey asked.
"Looking for us. We need to be quick, gather as much supplies as we can." Robb commanded.
"What about the bodies?" Myrcella asked.
"We have to leave them. This is war, Myrcella. We don't have time for small mercies if your grandfather's mad dog is after us." Myrcella nodded and helped Robb sit and made sure he was as comfortable as can be.
It was clear he was getting irritated, so she was quick to make herself scarce. Robb's temper was getting shorter by the day, it made sense with all that had happened in the past several weeks, but she would rather not be the reason behind it. Dacey emerged from one of the houses and whistled at her. Myrcella ran over and followed her into the little home. Inside there was another body lying across a table, it was mutilated beyond recognition but had once obviously been a woman. A bundle near a wall proved to be what was once a young child. The house was trashed but Dacey was digging through a trunk before standing and tossing a bundle at her. Myrcella couldn't take her eyes of the bodies though and the bundle which proved to be a pair of trousers and shirt fell to the dirt floor. Dacey sighed and physically turned Myrcella away from the macabre scene and led her the little back room. Once inside, Myrcella let out a sob.
"Why?" She cried. "What could these poor people have done to deserve such a horrible fate?" Dacey silently wrapped her arms around Myrcella.
"Sometimes… there's just no reason besides the cruelty of men." She replied softly while letting Myrcella cry.
After Myrcella's tears ran dry. She sat on the little trundle bed and wiped her face with her filthy sleeve. Dacey sat next to her.
"I want to say that eventually you become numb to it, but that would be a lie." Dacey said, handing Myrcella the clothes again.
"It's just so…" Myrcella couldn't finish.
"I know." The two women sat in silence for another moment. "Change into those clothes, it will be easier to move in than what's left of your dress."
"I've never worn pants before." Myrcella said shyly.
"Well there's a first time for everything, Princess." Dacey said in a teasing tone. Myrcella couldn't help but smile before undoing the laces of her dress.
The pants were a bit too long in the leg, so Dacey took her knife to the ends to shorten the leg. The shirt was baggy enough that Myrcella improvised by putting her corset on over the shirt to keep it in place. Dacey had found a jerkin and cloak for her to use as well. When Myrcella finished lacing up the jerkin she tied her hair up out of her face using a scarf like she had seen scullery maids do. It was strange to wear pants, she hesitantly kicked out testing the freedom that one never had when wearing skirts and petticoats.
Dacey stepped out of the cottage for a moment while Myrcella continued to search for useful supplies. There wasn't much, so she took the sheet off the bed and tore it into strips to make more bandages for Robb's wounds, hanging on the back of the door of the backroom was a canvas satchel, she took it and threw the strap over her shoulder before stuffing the shreds of sheet inside. Before leaving the small room, she grabbed the blankets on the bed as well. It was cold at night and a blanket would be nice. Dacey stepped back into the house holding what looked to be a bundle of dried leaves in one hand and a small knife in the other. She handed Myrcella the knife,
"Tuck that in your belt or boot." Myrcella quickly secured the knife in her belt. Dacey set the leaves in one corner and took out a flint, striking it flames soon burst from the plants. She stood and turned to Myrcella.
"A slow burn. Gives us time to get away from here and gives them." She nodded at the body on the table, "A bit of decency."
Myrcella nodded then followed Dacey out as the flames from the little fire steadily grew and began to take hold in the cottage. The men were all waiting at the edge of the cottages. They had all found new clothes, along with dried foods that were being prepared for winter, water and wine skins, blankets, and packs. They had even found a walking stick for Robb and an old bow and quiver for hunting. No one spoke as they set off again. Myrcella looked over at Robb and couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin, or how he clenched his jaw every time he took a step with his bad leg.
Travelling became somewhat easier after finding the massacred hamlet, it was still horrible to find, and the sight had haunted her dreams for weeks after. No matter how exhausted Myrcella was at the end of the day she still found herself waking during the night in cold sweats. But she had more important things to worry about. Namely, Robb Stark, his wounds were getting worse. He tried to hide it, but it was obvious the wounds from the wedding would just not heal and Seven help anyone who brought them up.
Robb Stark was by far one of the most stubborn, pig headed fools she had ever met. They were in the Vale now, the Mountains of the Moon soaring into the sky in the distance. Myrcella was walking next to young Petey, who was telling her about his mother and sisters back in the North when it finally happened.
Robb collapsed. Myrcella was at his side in an instant. He was white as a sheet and burning hot to the touch. She pulled out her little knife and cut away at his trousers above the wound in his leg. Peeling back the bandages, Myrcella exposed the wound to the air for the first time in days, black blood oozed from the wound, the skin around it was green and angry red lines were spreading from the wound up and down his leg, it stank of rot.
Myrcella swallowed the bile that threatened to rise. The wound had festered. She quickly checked the ones in his side and shoulder, finding them in similar states to the one in his leg. He hadn't said anything, pushing on with the rest of them. But it was obvious now, Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, King in the North was dying.
Myrcella sat back, fear was welling within her. She had no idea what to do. Looking around desperately at the others seeing if anyone would do something, anything. They all stood by silent. Of course, this had to be when the Mountain's hounds finally found them.
Griffin was quick to dispatch them by shooting them with an arrow to the eye each. Yells of men could be heard in the distance. Jay and Toby grabbed Robb and the rest took off running. Myrcella crashed through the woods behind Dacey, the sounds of the hounds and men hunting them were getting closer. Myrcella's lungs started to burn and she finally risked a look behind her shoulder just as a massive horse broke through the trees. The unmistakable form of the Mountain atop it.
Myrcella pushed herself to move faster, she thanked the seven for pants in that moment then cursed herself for being raised as a bloody princess who couldn't run any faster. When it seemed like the Mountain and his men would finally catch them all the sounds of pursuit vanished. Actually, the forest around them fell completely silent. Only the sounds of their exhausted and heavy breathing filled the air.
"What happened?" Dacey asked. "Where did they all go?"
"Fuck if I know." The Greatjon grumbled.
Myrcella looked around, everything looked the same, yet their pursuers were gone. Myrcella began to feel uneasy, there was something strange about this place.
"Clearing up ahead. Might as well see what's about." Greatjon stated before walking off. Myrcella turned to Griffin, who still had the bow drawn and notched.
"Is that a good idea?" The old soldier shrugged.
"Something' queer about this place. Whatever tis' its better than dealin with the likes of the Mountain." Myrcella followed behind Griffin and the Greatjon, stepping into the clearing she felt the breath leave her. Standing in the clearing was a large stone circle and next to it was a ramshackle cottage.
The others began debating on what should be done next. Who knew when the Mountain and his men could reappear. Myrcella thought about going up to the shack, maybe whoever lived there was home, after all there was smoke coming from the hole in the roof. Before Myrcella could make any sort of decision the door slammed open and a woman in a ragged dress with a scarf wrapped around her shoulder hobbled out. Her hair was a long-tangled mess, beads of all shapes and sizes looked to be braided all through the tangled mass, several necklaces and pendants that looked to be made of bones. Kohl was smeared over her eyes which narrowed at the sight of the ragtag group before her home.
"Who the fuck are you lot?" She rasped angrily. Myrcella stepped forward, standing straight and tall just like the princess she once was.
"We're travelers. Our friend is hurt, dying. He needs help." Myrcella glanced back at Toby and Jay who were still holding Robb up between them. "Please." Myrcella practically begged turning back the strange woman. "He doesn't deserve to die." The woman stared at the strange group, her eyes flitting from person to person. There was something about them, they were old and young at the same time, possessing of knowledge that reached beyond the bounds of Westeros.
"You are lucky Little Doe. I know healing arts and more. But it will cost much if you want me to look at that boy." The woman said coldly pointing a long-knurled finger in Robb's direction. Myrcella didn't even hesitate, she rushed towards the woman and pulled the chain and pendent her mother had given her so long ago from her neck. Holding out the golden lion, Myrcella met the strange woman's gaze.
"This is solid gold. It's valuable, please, will it be enough to save him?" The woman stared for a moment at the necklace hanging from Myrcella's fist. Quick as lighting the woman snatched the necklace.
"Bring him inside I'll take a look." Myrcella looked back at the others and nodded. Toby and Jay moved forward. The woman held up her hand, "Only you, and the lord and lady and king." She stated staring directly at Myrcella. Myrcella felt the color drain from her face. Whoever this woman was. She knew who they were.
"Who are you?" Dacey asked, moving to take Robb from Toby and Jay, Greatjon copying her. The woman gave them all one more appraising look.
"Call me Maggy the Frog." She stated coolly before turning and stalking back to the hut.
With little choice Myrcella followed after her, Dacey and Greatjon dragging Robb with them.
Inside the shack was surprisingly spacious compared to the outside of the cottage. Furs, herbs, and other strange bits and bobs hung from the rafters. Baskets filled with strange looking things were piled in the corner, Myrcella swore that a human skull sat front and center on a lopsided table but when she turned back all that was there was a large gourd. A fire roared at the center of the room a pot of something hung above the flames whatever was inside boiled happily. Maggy stopped to stir the pot for a moment before collapsing into a large chair decorated with strange runes and bird skulls.
"Put the boy on the furs." She stated glaring at the three nobles. Dacey and Greatjon reluctantly did as instructed. Myrcella knelt down next to Robb when they had him on the furs. His breathing was shallow and he was so hot, sweat dotted his brow and all the color was gone from him.
"You're a fucking woods witch." That was the Greatjon. He stood, glaring at the woman, Maggy. She shrugged.
"That's what you Andals call me. Others call me Maegi, sorceress, necromancer, priestess, enchantress take your damn pick." The Greatjon turned bright red and started cursing the witch. Calling a Northman, a man descended from the First Men an Andal was quite the insult to the proud northerner.
"Listen here you cunt!" The lord of Last Hearth started spewing so many explicatives it made her head spin. Say what they will about Greatjon Umber, the northern lord could create some incredible and offensive insults. Maggy the Frog stared at the Northman unimpressed by his outburst. Dacey finally had enough and kicked the giant man in the shin, finally shutting him up. Maggy rolled her eyes and stood.
"I'll take a look at your king now." Myrcella stood and moved back to Dacey. She watched carefully as Maggy began to examine Robb's prone form. It seemed to take an eternity, Myrcella unconsciously reached and took Dacey's hand in her own. The Mormont woman squeezed Myrcella's hand, Myrcella was quick to return the gesture. The Greatjon paced back and forth in the limited space still muttering and cursing.
After what felt like an age the woods witch stood.
"Death has their fingers already buried in the boy's soul. There is nothing that can be done to save him, he'll be gone by the rise of the sun tomorrow."
No. No this couldn't be it. Myrcella felt her heart stop in her chest. Robb couldn't die, they had come so far. It wasn't right.
"There must be something you can do." That was Dacey.
"Robb does not deserve this fate. Please, he can't die." Myrcella almost shouted.
"All men must die Myrcella Lannister of House Baratheon." Maggy stated. "And yes. I know who each of you are. I'm a fucking witch, remember." Maggy growled before cocking her head and walking around the little group, playing with one of her bone necklaces. "Perhaps I should have been a bit clearer; there are no mortal means of saving Robb Stark." The flames in the hearth seemed to darken and dance around wildly. Goosebumps rose on the back of Myrcella's neck.
"What do you mean?" Maggy chuckled darkly.
"The signs are there." She down at Robb's prone form. "Magic is returning to this world. Surely you lot remember the comet that danced across the sky?" Maggy didn't bother waiting for a response. "Dragons have been reborn in the East. And to the North…" Maggy shivered.
"We are entering into a new age, fueled by powers that last existed thousands of years ago. I can save Robb Stark, this Young Wolf. It will require dark magic, blood magic. That magic always comes with a price. A price that cannot be paid in silver or gold, only by giving a life can a life be saved." Myrcella stepped up to the Woods Witch.
"If a life must be given then I offer my own." Everyone looked at Myrcella, shocked, even the witch. "My family is the reason for all of this. They are Robb's enemies, they consorted with the Freys and Boltons for the betrayal at the Twins. My brother ordered the execution of Robb's father. It is only right that my life be taken to repay the debt." Maggy stepped closer to Myrcella, studying her carefully. Myrcella couldn't help but shift under the heated gaze of the other woman.
"No." Maggy finally stated. "As it happens a life has already been given. But I will still require further payment from the three of you." Myrcella looked back at Lord Umber and Dacey. An unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them. Robb would pay any price to protect his men, so they would do the same for him.
"Whatever the price is we will each pay our part." Dacey stated.
"Agreed." Greatjon grumbled. Myrcella merely nodded her own consent. Maggy the
Frog grinned.
"Excellent."
SO this is going into crazy AU supernatural adventure romance pretty damn soon