King Robert is not a man to be denied. He forces their way into an inn, taking it over completely. He either is actively ignoring the tired angry eyes of the innkeeper or he is so far gone to his cups already that he is uncaring. Bodies rush around the yard, those who could not fit inside the inn setting up camp along the moist ground. Myna and her brother rest along a makeshift bench that is more of a half-rotting log than anything made by a craftsman. Her brother passes her his wineskin, the watered-down wine still summer-sweet on her tongue.
"Queen Cersei has said you are more than welcome in the litter if you wish to take a break from riding. You could stop being stubborn and take her up on that offer."
"Our queen is too generous," Myna simpered. "The horses are good enough for me."
Despite how her, well, everything, hurts, Myna refused to go into that death trap. It was convenient and likely more comfortable than riding a horse for hours, but everything about it made Myna's skin crawl. It was like one giant cage for a bunch of pretty birds. Images of it catching fire and the endless squawking that would flood the sky along with the blackest smoke kept her from even thinking about hitching a ride.
"You should be exhausted and yet you are still squirming like a pup about to get a bath," Devran chuckled.
"When I'm still, it feels like the world is trying to catch up to me. I can't let it."
"Patience is a virtue, Myna. You should learn it."
Myna fiddles with the straps of her wrist guards, releasing the blades to give her forearms a chance to breathe. The blades gleam, their edges still sharp despite a few days of disuse. Wordlessly, her brother hands her a small wet stone and Myna begins to sharpen her daggers.
"Put those right back when you are done." Her brother commands softly, sharpening his own blade. Myna does just that, leaning back to stare at her brother's work when she's done.
Their father's sword, Shadowfang, looked just as intimidating in her brother's hands as it had in their fathers. The chain whip at his waist was next; the bulk of its length and the bladed tail resting on the floor as he took his time rubbing it down with an old cloth. It was made of Valyrian steel according to their father, who had heard it from his father, and so on it went. How they got it to turn into a flexible whip, Myna has no clue. But it was stronger than Shadowfang and twice as beautiful with a finish like ripples of water.
Devran notices her gaze. He eyes the whip in his hands before cracking it at a nearby tree. The tail is thick; hollow in the middle and caged by four blades, and it sinks into the wood like a hot knife through butter. It comes back to him in a yank, clinging against his metal-plated gloves.
"Just like the briars back home, hmm?" He asked. "When we arrive in King's Landing, I will see about getting a training room. It is time to learn how to use this."
"But that is for the Briarwood heir," Myna's brows furrowed. "Theodal would be next."
"Theodal has his axes and has not the patience to learn something new. Magnus only likes his arrows, if he were to take up this whip, he would likely get himself tangled and strangled."
Myna nearly spits out her sip of wine, choking on it as her brother laughed. "Magnus would singe your brows off if he heard you. Just like he had on my fourth name day."
Immediately, her brother went silent. It was Myna's turn to laugh. She put down the wineskin and held up her hand, covering her brother's brows and squirting at him. Myna didn't need to speak, she only nodded sagely and brought her hand back down. Devran shoved her lightly, his lips caught between a scowl and a smile. His hand catches her sleeve, his fingers rubbing against the thick material.
"Did you not pack anything lighter?"
"This one of my lighter dresses."
"We will have to remedy that. King's Landing is dreadfully hot during the light hours."
"A training room and new clothing. One would think you are trying to bribe me, brother."
"I only want you to be happy in King's Landing. As happy as I was when I was a squire there. It is wonderful there, you will see. There are many market stalls and so many events at the Red Keep to keep you entertained. And the woman, Myna! The ladies of the Red Keep are lovely."
"No doubt they are lovely, but I cannot exactly marry a woman," Myna said dryly. "Are the men beautiful as well?"
Are they half as beautiful as Jon Snow? Myna squashed that thought like a bug and threw its corpse into the far corners of her mind. Her friend is beautiful, to be sure. Just as his half-siblings Robb and Sansa are. But it hurt to think of her friend's beauty now, knowing he was trekking to a cold and terrible place like the Wall, where he would grow hardened by the cruel air.
"I've never thought of a man as beautiful," Her brother admits, chuckling. "And none as lovely our dear Magnus, the fairest of them all. But I am sure there are beautiful men in King's Landing that are more than willing to court you, little wolf."
"A northern man could have courted me."
"A northern man would not have what you need. They are too cold, too hard, and you are…"
"Fragile?" Myna frowned. "You think me fragile?"
"While a northern man would keep you grounded, surely you wish for someone to let you breathe?"
Myna stared at her brother, her mouth open. "Keep me grounded? Our brothers-," She looked around wildly, leaning in close to Devran to hiss at him, "Theodal is easily lovesick and Magnus is Magnus. They are more fragile-hearted than I, surely!"
"I only mean that somebody who is as prone to laughter as you would keep you happy," Devran said, voice calm. He looked earnest, that was the worst part of it for Myna. "Someone balanced, who is both light at heart but not some fool. Somebody like father, despite his faults."
Their father was a gruff man, but he was also quick to laugh when he was around those he loved. Quick to laugh, quick to jape, and quick of temper. And when she was free of her bouts of profound sadness, so was their mother.
But Myna didn't want a man like her father. In fact, she didn't want a man at all. She didn't know what she wanted, but to marry anyone as she is right now would only serve for misery. Her own brothers were not married, even Theodal who loved love could not find someone to stay with for long. So why must she marry, at only sixteen years of age? It baffled her.
"I want to pick who I marry," Myna whispered. "If not when I can marry, let me choose who it is I spend the rest of my life with."
There was a smile on Devran's face, one that spoke as if he knew best. "You are still young yet, little wolf. If I let you choose, you might have ended up with that bastard friend of yours."
"Which one?" Myna frowned.
"Exactly my point. If you were left to your own devices, who knows what you would get up to? Come, let us speak of this no further. King's Landing will change everything for us, it will. You'll see."
Years were shaved off her brother's face as he continued to speak. It struck her then, how young her brother still was. Even at twenty-five years of age, he became childlike as he spoke of the knights of King's Landing.
"Do you think yourself more like Florian the Fool or Ser Duncan the Tall? For I'm thinking Florian."
"More like Aemon the Dragonknight," Devran said, utter reverence in his voice.
This was the brother she knew and loved. Not the Lord of Briarwood, but her awestruck older brother who would send her off to sleep with tales of brave knights. Who would promise her that he'd one day become part of the Kingsguard and brandish that white cloak for all to see. Myna opens her mouth, a quip about Florian on the tip of her tongue, when she catches sight of Sansa and her direwolf Lady.
Lady is a beautiful creature, with silken grey fur that Sansa brushes daily. Her golden eyes stare into Myna's, and if a wolf could smile, Myna was sure the direwolf would be doing so now. The clinking of metal is what alerts her to the presence of the Hound before he is even in her line of sight, his heavy armor doing nothing to diminish his large stature. It only makes him all the more terrifying, something he clearly knows by the way his mouth twists into a frown when Sansa catches sight of him as well.
Myna looks to her brother, a silent question in her eyes. He shakes his head, nodding towards a proud-looking Prince Joffrey. The prince shoos away his dog, the armored man leaving his sight with a mighty scowl on his burned face. Myna gets to her feet, ignoring her brother's annoying whispers.
Joffrey stops speaking, an edge to his face when Myna arrives. Myna gives her her most vacant of smiles, one that doesn't look like it was forged as a blade, but makes a point to stare him directly in the eyes.
"Prince Joffrey," Myna curtseys. "Your blade is a beauty."
The princeling's chest puffs up in pride but his eyes cannot look into hers for more than a moment. Myna eases up, unsure. He was only a boy, no matter his lineage. Relief is visible on his face when she slides her eyes to stare at his cheek.
"I thank you, my lady." He smiles. "Though nothing is nearly as beautiful as my betrothed."
Sansa blushes sweetly, her face as red as her hair. "Thank you, my prince."
For a second, Myna sees what Sansa must see in him. He is young, with the Lannister golden hair and light eyes, and he is dressed finely as a Prince should be. But still, Myna cannot help her tight smile.
"We were about to take a walk. Would you like to join us, my lady?" Prince Joffrey asks.
Sansa's eyes plead with her to say no. Myna bites back her grin and takes hold of Lady's leash. Such a shame that she had to be chained up like a common dog. "I thank you for the invitation, Prince Joffrey. But I must see to Lady's needs. Besides, who am I to get in the way of young love?"
"Myna!" Sansa squeaks.
Joffrey has already dismissed her, his attention back on the girl by his side. "Come then, my lady. I have much to show you."
Myna crouched next to Lady, letting the direwolf sniff her hand as the two of them watched Sansa leave. Lady whines low in her throat, her coin-gold eyes on her girl. To hide her petty jealousy, Myna smiles.
"Come, Lady. We will go for a walk of our own."
Reluctantly, the direwolf lets Myna guide her to the shade of the trees. The weight of someone's heavy gaze is on her, and for a moment, Myna thinks it's an angry look. But as she searches the yard for the set of eyes, it's the Hound who looks back at her. There is anger in his eyes to be sure, something hateful and bitter, but he only looks at her with mild curiosity.
She does not look away. She refuses to be the one to do so this time. His gaze sharpens, irritation clouding his half-burned face. Myna's mouth twitches into a wide smile before she can help it. Surprise explodes across his face before his scowl comes back in earnest and Sandor Clegane walks off. It wasn't fear, no. Myna was half his size and only had her daggers with her.
It was because she'd made him uncomfortable. Was it her eyes? Her smile? Was he unused to kindness? Myna doesn't know, but she enjoys it all the same.
Myna grins to herself all the way to the woods, practically skipping.
The forest around the inn is poor in comparison to the lush Briarwoods but Myna appreciates it all the same. She wishes for breeches instead of her long dress, the trees above them causing a stinging wistfulness to bloom in her chest. The bark is rough beneath her hand, the bite of the wood grounding in a way stone could never be. Myna and Lady make their way to a slow trickling stream in oddly companionable silence.
Lady is delicate as she picks her way through the forest but the muscles beneath her thick coat ripple with undeniable power. She is a contradiction swathed in grey and Myna could watch her endlessly. Her ears twitch and turn at sounds too light for Myna to hear, but she stays at Myna's side as if there is no other place to be. Before long, that restlessness that always ails her comes in full force.
"Come," Myna shouted, letting Lady off her leash and breaking out into a run.
She ran as fast as she could in her heavy skirt and fashionable shoes, her hair streaming unbound behind her. To spare her brother a heart attack, Myna jumped over the worst of the mud. Lady sprinted with her, keeping pace easily. Birds sing to each other overhead, squirrels scurry up their trees, and Myna and Lady sprint across the earth like they owned it.
Moments like this were when Myna felt truly free. She was not Myna Briarwood, the pitiful daughter who lost herself in the woods as a child and didn't come out quite the same. She was nobody's sister, nobody's better. It was just Myna and the world at her feet.
The direwolf proved herself smarter than the average wolf the more time Myna spent with her. She headed commands with grace, her eyes knowing in a way that took Myna's breath. As the day wore on and the two ran through the trees, Myna could not help the jealousy that ran rampant in her, wishing once more she had a direwolf herself. They caught their breath by a great winding oak tree, the both of them panting.
"You must be some kind of magic," Myna muttered to the direwolf, smiling as she ran a hand down Lady's back. "I can almost feel it come off you."
Sometimes, when Myna drifted far from her mind, Lady excluded an air that was almost tangible. But the second Myna tried to touch it, it would flicker away like a blown-out candle, the very scent lost in the wind. If magic had a feeling, it was all around Lady, just as it had been in the thickest parts of the Briarwood forest. Myna thought of Ghost and his dark red eyes, wondering if she would have felt this way with him as well if she had known to look for it.
Thinking of Ghost only made her think of Jon. Of how glint of desperation in his eyes as he spoke of the Wall. From the moment she met him, the both of them only children, Myna knew he was a terribly sad boy. She'd been honest when she told him she knew she had to get him to play with her. What she hadn't been fully honest about was why.
When everyone had gone looking for her after she'd run off from her septa, Myna had scrambled up a tree and hid there. And who comes to look for her there, but the sullen-faced bastard boy of Lord Stark? Myna had thought of another friend then, of another bastard boy who she'd played Wolf and Rabbit with. He'd only been the son of a miller, a curious boy with pale eyes just as strange as her own, but he'd loved the endless games she offered.
Surely this boy, who desperately wanted to be included, would appreciate the effort even more. But no, he'd become angry and sour, confused as to why she'd jumped on him from a tree branch. She'd circled back after waiting for him to give chase and sat with him when she realized he had not moved an inch.
Maybe it was the deep brown of his eyes or the deeper frown on his young face, but Myna had known then and there that Jon Snow was going to be her new friend.
Till this day, her brothers would laugh about how she'd strong-armed the bastard boy into friendship. At first, it'd stung that they would think so low of her. But as she'd gotten older and admitted it to herself, Myna took pride in how she'd won him over.
She wondered if he was lonely now, at the Wall. Will the brothers of the Night's Watch become his brothers in true? She hoped they would. She hoped he would keep to his promise and send her a letter.
Most of all, she hoped her friend would not forget her.
"Myna."
Myna twitches, burrowing herself further into the warmth at her side. The roots of the tree beneath her press into her ribs, slotting together like she was born from them. It should be uncomfortable, but all Myna feels is safe.
"Myna Briarwood, get up."
It's her brother's voice. What feels like the toe of a boot hits her shin and Myna jerks awake, already reaching for a dagger inside of her sleeve. Her brother grips her wrist tight, his large hand calloused from years of working with blades. In his other hand is a lit torch. All around them the forest has gone dark, his face cast in stark shadows and bright orange light.
"What?" Myna groans. She just wanted to go back to her dreamless sleep, where the world was blessedly dark and still.
"Have you been here since the morning? Myna." Devran sighs, disappointment laced into his voice. "Get up."
He goes to prod her with a foot again, but Lady, gentle and lovely Lady, snaps her teeth at his foot. She gives Devran a warning growl, the fur along her back rising and she climbs to all four paws. Devran watches the direwolf warily. Myna gives the direwolf a solid pat on her haunch, both Briarwoods visibly relaxing as the direwolf calms.
"What is it?"
"Arya has gone missing. Nymeria too. King Robert and Lord Eddard have had men looking for her since this afternoon. I had to send our men after you, given that you nor Lady could be bothered to reappear."
As simple as that, Myna is awake. She pushes herself to her feet, her brother's hand on her wrist pulling her up before dropping it.
"What happened? Arya is missing, how?"
"Looks like Arya and the prince got into it. I am not sure how, but she took hold of his sword and flung it into the river and nobody has been able to find it. Nymeria bit into him and took off with Arya into the woods. I had hoped they'd found you, but here you are, sleeping away."
"I fell asleep. There is no crime in that," Myna frowned.
"You should be watching those girls," Devran snapped. He took a moment to gather himself, running a hand over his dark wild hair. "No matter. We will go back to the inn, where you will wait with Sansa."
Lady perked up at her master's name. Myna leashed her once more, giving the direwolf a scritch under her chin.
"Is Sansa alright?"
"Aye. Though from now on I think her pet is best left at her side. She went with Prince Joffrey without a chaperone."
"And you blame me for that too. Where was her septa?"
"It doesn't matter where Septa Mordane was. You are a Briarwood. You should be watching out for those girls, just as I do for Lord Stark."
Myna met his gaze, the smoke of the fire catching in her eyes but she stared at her brother despite it. He looked tired like all cheer from earlier had been leached from him. Already this journey was wearing him thin.
"They call us dogs," Myna whispered. "But must we be?"
He didn't answer her for a long time. They were almost back to the inn, more and more torches appearing like haunting lights sprouting from the dark forest as men rushed about.
"We are nothing but dogs, I'm afraid. It is all we know."
"We should be more than that. Shouldn't we?"
To that, he had no response.
Lady had been returned to her post, the direwolf having been met by more than one set of fearful eyes as they'd walked through the yard. Myna couldn't get the looks out her head. Whatever had happened to Joffrey, whatever Arya's direwolf had done, the fear of it had bled into the rest of the camp. A serving girl had nearly wet herself at the mere sight of Lady passing her by. Devran went back out into the forest to look for Arya, stiffness in his every step.
Out of all the living breathing things there, Lady was not the one to be afraid of. Myna looked back to the moment in the forest where she was sure Lady might bite her brother and changed her mind. All wild animals are something to fear. But Lady had only reacted because of what Devran did.
So why would Nymeria attack the prince?
Myna looked to her roommate, watching lazily as Sansa stared out the small inn window. Even in the candlelight, she looked beautiful. Like a maiden from a song.
"Sansa, what happened?"
"It happened so fast," Sansa whispered. "I did not see."
Disbelief colored her words. "Sansa, this is very serious. You have to try and remember."
"I don't remember. It was too fast, Myna."
Just as she was about to open her mouth, a knock came at the door. Myna flinched.
"Come."
A knight Myna did not know came into the room, his face unreadable. More knights were behind him, each as stony as a statue. They filed into the room and swarmed the girls in silence.
"What is going on?" Myna asked, snatching her hand away from a knight who tried to grab her.
"My lady, I am Ser Barriston Selmy of the Kingsguard. you both have been summoned by King Robert and Queen Cersei. Simply tell your side of the story, Sansa, and all will be well." Ser Barristan Selmy is an old man with hair as white as his cloak, but his eyes were kind as he led them to the biggest room in the inn at the queen's beckoning.
"She's not. Sansa, come here my darling."
Gathered together like this, Myna felt like her skin was too tight. Too many eyes looked her over, looking for some sort of weakness, or looked upon her with spite. But it all goes away as her eyes lock onto Arya's from across the room. Relief floods her at the very sight of the small girl, her long face covered in dirt and her brown hair falling from its careful style. Lord Eddard is right beside her, holding his daughter close to him.
Sansa steps out of Myna's reach and closer to Queen Cerse, who has her hand resting on top of the prince's arm bandaged arm. Queen Cersei gives a warm, encouraging smile to Sansa while her husband looks about the room in open irritation. His ruddy face doesn't soften as he turns his attention toward Sansa.
"Now, child... Tell me what happened. Tell it all and tell it true. It's a great crime to lie to a King."
Sansa repeats the lie she told Myna back in the room, her robins-egg blue eyes trained on the floor. "I don't know. I don't remember. Everything happened so fast. I didn't see."
In a blink, Arya launches herself at her sister. She swings her reed-thin arms and bangs her tiny fists on Sansa's ribs, screaming the name 'liar' all the while. Sansa nor her father can wretch her off fast enough, their shocked reprimands going on deaf ears. Arya only screams louder. She attacks her own sister with everything she's got. Arya is a whirl of anger and bared teeth. If Lady is like Sansa, with her quiet obedience, then Arya is all Nymeria.
"She's as wild as that animal of hers. I want her punished." All tenderness is gone from Queen Cersei's face as she stared the younger Stark girl down. The golden queen is nothing but ice, her green eyes as hard as emeralds.
Myna gulps from her spot, eyes catching Aryas. The girl looks absolutely wrecked, her tears leaving behind streaks on her dirty cheeks. Her eyes were swollen from crying and her small mouth was twisted in an angry frown. Slowly, Myna's brought her arms beneath each sleeve, her fingers closing around the hilt of her daggers.
She wishes she could say something. But what could she say? She hadn't been there. And who would believe her? She was nothing more than a dog in their eyes. Myna prayed to the gods, her heart pounding in her chest. Was she willing to draw a blade over a direwolf?
"What would you have me do, whip her through the streets? Damn it, children fight. It's over."
Her grip tightens. Would they whip a child through the streets? Surely Queen Cersei would let this go. Her son was clearly more embarrassed than in pain, by his pouting.
"Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life."
It's no longer a battle of justice, but a battle of wills. The queen seethes beside her son, the young prince looking like a whimpering fool by his lioness of a mother. King Robert looks like he would rather be anywhere but here, waving his wife off with a careless hand. His attention turns to his son, disgust clear in the wrinkle of his nose and blank stare.
"You let that little girl disarm you?" The king scoffed. "See to it that your daughter is disciplined. I'll do the same with my son."
King Robert gets up from his seat, the crowd parting to let their king pass. Myna drops her hands with a silent thanks to the gods. The tension bleeds from Lord Eddard's shoulders, his attention already returning to his daughters.
But Queen Cersei was not done yet. "And what of the direwolf?"
"We haven't seen the direwolf, your Grace." A soldier comments.
"There is another wolf."
"So be it." King Robert says.
Slowly, Lord Eddard turns around. Horror shines on his face. "You can't mean it."
"A direwolf's no pet. Get her a dog. She'll be happier for it."
Now both Stark girls strain against their father, their shouting mixing together. Myna stumbled backward into the familiar grip of her brother. Sobs echoed through the room, pain etched on every Stark's face. It was hell to watch.
"He is going to be the one to do it," Devran whispered in her ear, tightening his grip. "Lord Stark carries out the sentences given. He is going to take your wolf friend's head all because his king has said so."
"I thought King Robert was his friend," Myna gasped.
Her brother spun her around so her tears would be hidden by the fabric of his dark shirt. For once, Myna was glad of the black and amber colors of House Briarwood. Nobody would know she was truly crying if they didn't look any further.
"A man can be a friend, he can be a king. But he can never truly be both."
"You have to stop him! Lady has done nothing wrong."
"There is nothing I can do, little wolf. Lord Stark has made up his mind. He will not argue the King for the life of a direwolf."
"But she is Sansa's friend."
"We are in the south now, Myna. The rules are entirely different here."
AN: I won't be doing every scene word for word, that'd be so boring to read. But I'll try my best to keep the essence of it the same. Just wait till the story starts to go off the rails a bit. It's gonna be fun lol.