Miriam

The royal family and their party traveled for about two months to reach the capital. They stopped and rested each night at various inns. Each time they stopped, Miriam thanked the old gods and the new. At first she wasn't sure if she really was pregnant…her blood had simply not arrived when it was supposed to. After months of travel, she knew for a fact that she was pregnant, and it was proving to be miserable.

Leila was doing everything possible to make sure that Miriam was comfortable, but there wasn't much she could do. King Robert insisted they eat lots of meat every night, and whereas Miriam normally would have been happy to eat such feasts, she found that she was craving something…greener. When they reached the capital, the first thing she'd do would be send a raven to her grandmother. She would ask for tips to deal with the pregnancy better. Until then, though, she'd have to suffer.

Miriam had given much thought to what she'd do once she arrived. The only Lannister that knew her face was Leila. She'd have to continue as her maid in order to survive, but she worried about what would be said when she started showing. Who would she claim as the father? Would she be dismissed from the Keep? She hadn't thought that far when she was spreading her legs for Theon. She was only concerned with carrying his child.

And the plan had gone horribly right.

"When we get to the capital, I'm going to make you the biggest salad you've ever seen in your life," Leila swore after Miriam told her about her cravings.

Miriam snorted. "Leila, dear, have you ever even entered a kitchen in your life?"

Leila frowned, and then the two burst into giggles.

Miriam was glad to be laughing. She'd cried more than once on the journey. Also, the fate of Sansa Stark's direwolf had spread like wildfire. Leila had gone to offer her regards, but apparently Lydia had pushed her away. Prince Joffrey was flashing his injury at anyone interested. When King Robert was near, he acted as if it didn't bother him.

Finally, one especially unbearable day, it was announced that they had arrived at King's Landing.

"Oh perfect!" Leila said, clapping her hands. She was about to open the coach's curtain and look outside, but Miriam stopped her.

"Wait until we're at the Keep," she said. "Flea Bottom isn't the best place for people like us from what I hear."

Miriam didn't add that she didn't think she could stomach the smell of Flea Bottom either.

They rode through the slums and when it was announced safe, they climbed out of the front of their carriage and took in the sight of the city. Miriam's breath caught –it was magnificent. The Red Keep, built by Aegon Targaryen, was the strongest and yet most beautiful stronghold Miriam had ever laid eyes on. It radiated power and majesty, and just by looking at it, she knew it was the only place fit for a king. The stone was red, supposedly because the Targaryen wished to remind everyone of the breath of his dragon. Miriam shivered with excitement. Dragons had lived here once. They had soared over head and rained fire.

"Lady Lannister," a guard addressed Leila as their wagon halted. "I was given orders to escort you to your chambers."

Leila blinked. "Oh, yes, of course."

She climbed out of the carriage, and as she did so, the guard assisted her. Then Leila turned and helped Miriam climb out. The guard raised his eyebrows, but Miriam ignored him. If he knew that she was of the House Tyrell, he'd be begging to serve her. She cleared her thoughts. You have a cover to maintain, Miriam. Don't be arrogant!

"I shall find a place in the servants' chambers for your maid," the guard said to Leila.

"My lady accompanies me," Leila said stiffly. "I shall decide where she goes. Now please, take us to our chambers."

The guard was obliged to argue no more. It was funny how a powerful man was forced to bow to the whims of a delicate lady like Leila. Miriam snorted; she was born to be a Lannister. She couldn't survive as anything else.

"Have you felt anything yet?" Leila whispered as they walked behind the guard. "It's been two months. Does it move?"

"I…I don't know," Miriam admitted. She touched her belly. She could only feel the difference when she touched it, but when she studied it in a mirror, she didn't see much difference.

"I heard that some women can tell what they're having," Leila said. "What do you think?"

"I've never been with child. I don't know anything," Miriam said. "I'll know when it's born. If I have more children, I can compare my pregnancies and perhaps I'll know."

They walked inside the front doors of the Keep and were led through a few corridors and finally up the stairs to a tower.

"Milady, everything you need awaits you in your chamber," the guard said, gesturing up the staircase.

Leila held her head high, and the two ascended the flight of stairs and entered. There were already some ladies there, but Leila dismissed them, saying she didn't need anything at the moment. She plopped down on the side of her new bed and invited Miriam to join her.

"They always give me this room," she said. "The Hand's tower is nicer, but I've never gone inside. My father used to tell me about it; he said he preferred the bed hard, and it's remained hard. It keeps the back rigid longer or something like that."

Miriam smiled.

"I can't imagine your father sleeping," she said.

"Neither can I. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe he just stares at the ceiling and drifts off, always watching." Leila snickered. "You never told me who the father of your child was."

"Oh." Miriam paused. "I guess I didn't…"

"Do you know who the father is?" Leila asked.

"Of course! I only slept with one man in Winterfell. I went there on the mission to further my family's standing," said Miriam. "It's very important that no one knows who I am, though. Promise me, Leila, that you won't tell your brother and sister who I am. And when Lord Tyrion returns, you can't tell him either."

"Yes, yes," she said impatiently. "I swear your secret's safe with me –but who is the father?"
Miriam wished she could answer with the name of a proper and gentle lord, but she swallowed and said the words aloud:

"Theon Greyjoy."

Leila tilted her head to one side. Her golden Lannister waves cascaded down her shoulder. Her mouth opened ajar.

"Theon Greyjoy?" She repeated.

"Yes, but you mustn't tell a soul. I was hoping for an alliance between the Iron Islands and the Reach," Miriam said. "I found out that Theon wasn't the type of Lord I originally dreamed of marrying, but I know my place. I could very well be carrying the heir to the Iron Islands inside me. One day Theon will not belong to the Starks, I will be waiting and ready for that day."

"You are so loyal to your family's cause," said Leila.

"Family is everything," Miriam said. She looked around the room and decided a change in topic was appropriate. "Where are the Starks? Have they arrived?"

"Oh, yes, I believe they have. My sister spoke of a council meeting they were planning to have upon arrival. I do hope Lord Eddard will be able to rest soon. Jaime went on ahead and arrived a few days earlier," answered Leila. "Maybe we should find Lydia, Sansa, and Arya and welcome them to the capital. My heart hurts for Sansa's wolf."

"Arya lost her wolf too," Miriam reminded her.

"Come on," Leila said excitedly, jumping to her feet. "Oh wait…Do you need to rest? How is the baby?"

Miriam shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Let's find the Starks."

They left Leila's tower and asked where they could find the Stark girls. They were instructed to their chambers, found them quickly, and knocked on the door. Miriam was still in awe over the capitol. She knew that this was only a small part of King's Landing and didn't account for Flea Bottom, but by the gods, was it still incredible.

"Lady Lannister," said an elder woman as she opened the door, bowing to Leila.

The woman had to have been the Stark's septa. Miriam recalled seeing her in Winterfell.

"I'm here to visit Lady Lydia, Lady Sansa, and Lady Arya," Leila said quickly.

From inside the room they heard an angry: "I'm not a lady!"

"Shut up, Arya!"

Just then Lydia Stark got up in the door, glared at Leila, and nodded at Miriam.

"What do you want?" Lydia asked them.

"We came to welcome you to the capital," Leila answered. "We hope you're enjoying your stay here. If there is anything you need, please tell us immediately and we will do what's possible."

Both Miriam and Lydia raised their eyebrows. Had Leila been rehearsing that?

Their Septa beamed at the girls and motioned at Leila and Miriam. "There. You've already received a warm welcome."

Sansa smiled shyly while Lydia and Arya just stared.

"May we enter?" Leila asked.

"We're busy," Lydia snapped.

"Lydia!" Their Septa said reprovingly. "Please forgive her, Lady Lannister. She is very tired after such a long ride. Perhaps another day would be better to pay a visit."

Leila frowned, and Miriam stepped in. "Yes, of course, forgive us." She yanked Leila down into a bow, and they left.

"She just doesn't want to see me," Leila said miserably when they were far enough away not to be heard. "They weren't busy with anything. Did you see them?"

"Maybe you shouldn't be so forward. Look for things Lydia likes. She doesn't trust you because you're a Lannister –" Miriam began.

"What? Because I'm a Lannister? Who wouldn't trust us? We're the most trustworthy family in the realm!" Leila gasped.

"Well, I know you're trustworthy," Miriam said quickly. "House Lannister is a fine house, but there are rumors about every house. It's what peasants do when they have nothing else to do…they insult the lords and their families. They say those things about my family too."

"I…I just…I'm at a loss for words," muttered Leila. "We must change their minds. I can't believe this. I just can't believe this…"

It turned out that not visiting the Starks worked out better for Miriam, because she found she was very tired. Miriam took a much needed nap, and then she vomited in Leila's chamber pot. She'd known pregnant women before, but she'd never been with them the entire pregnancy. When would her stomach swell and give evidence to her condition? What would she do then?

All the worrying made Miriam crave for fresh air. Leila had fallen asleep in her ridiculously large bed. Miriam shrugged on a shawl and wrote a note to Leila should she wake up before she returned. In the back of her mind she thought that it wasn't smart to wander the capitol, since she'd never been there, but she was determined to get out. The sea would remind her of home anyways.

She recalled how to leave the tower and go outside. Her breath caught when she came upon the gardens. They weren't as beautiful as the rose gardens of High Garden, but they still marveled her.

"I must say, it was quite the surprise to learn you were coming."

Miriam froze and turned around slowly. A man walked toward her, long silver robes flowing around his ankles. He was bald and had a round face. Though he smiled at her, his eyes looked sad. His voice was wispy and airy, almost like a woman's in a brothel.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Miriam asked carefully. She remembered that she was posing as a lowly maid and offered a curtsey she prayed wouldn't give her away. "My lord…?"

"Oh, there's no need to call me lord," said the stranger. "You are highborn. Don't worry; I will keep your secret. I'm honored to finally meet the Lady Olenna's granddaughter. I've heard many, many things about your family…"

Who was this man? How did he know Miriam?

"Have you been to High Garden?" She asked.

"Me? Personally, no, but yes in a manner of speaking," he said, smiling. "I've been many places, though I tend to spend most my time in the capital."

"Who are you?" Miriam asked.

"Ah, my name is Varys." He offered a small bow.

Miriam gaped.

"You're Varys? You're the Master of Whisperers, the Spider," she said. She remembered reading letters that discussed him. Her grandmother told her that Varys was a good ally to have and a bad enemy to have. "How did you know I was coming?"

"I have my ways. I didn't become Master of Whisperers on the small council for nothing," he said. "My little birds are everywhere…whispering in my ear… I knew you were in Winterfell…"

She frowned. Her head spun, and she wondered what her grandmother would say. She'd say something clever.

"So…if you already know…why aren't you telling the Royal Family?" Miriam wondered.

"Because there's no reason to. It wouldn't serve me in any way, and I don't believe it would serve you. I am a humble man and don't wish to get involved with unnecessary politics." He waved a naked hand.

Miriam held in a snort.

"I will have to trust you," she mumbled. "Can I be of service, Lord Varys?"

"Oh, no. In fact…I wasn't looking for you. I just thought I'd introduce myself to you. When you send a raven to your grandmother, send my regards please," Lord Varys said.

"I will be sure to," she said.

Varys bowed. He buried his hands in his sleeves and left Miriam there. She took a deep breath and collapsed in a nearby garden chair. Who else knew she was at the capital? She had been very careful at Winterfell, and yet she'd still been caught. She now knew not to underestimate the Spider.

Her walk had been ruined. She wanted to return to Leila's tower. She walked hurriedly from the garden back to the Keep and entered the door closest to Leila's room. Right as she was about to ascend the staircase, she was halted once again.

"Miriam… Is that you?"

She mentally swore. How the hell did everybody know who she was? She'd been cooped up in the Reach her entire life!

But when she saw who had spoken to her, her face actually broke into a smile.

"Renly," she breathed. "Oh, thank the gods it's you."

Renly Baratheon was King Robert's youngest brother. He was handsome, with dark hair and doe eyes. He moved around like a prince, Miriam thought. He had visited the Reach before, and he had gotten along well with Loras.

"I had no idea you were here," Renly said.

"I only just arrived. Please, you mustn't tell anyone who I am, though," she said.

He raised his thick eyebrows. "Why are you incognito, my lady?"

"I just am," she said. "I will explain later. Please, do this for me, as a friend. I am simply Miriam here. There will be no titles."

"Ah…well then," Renly said with a smirk. "I wonder, though…what will you do when your brother arrives?"

Miriam's jaw fell. "My brother? Loras?"

"Yes, King Robert has called to have a tourney in honor of the new Hand, Lord Eddard Stark. Your brother is being called the capital to compete! I hear tell he's to fight against Ser Gregor Clegane in a joust!"

Miriam gasped.

"The Mountain That Rides?" She groaned. She'd never seen him, but she had heard of him. The stories said he made the Hound look like Tyrion Lannister. "He can't!"

"He just has to unseat him," Renly said. "I know Loras…very well. He'll be fine. He'll be glad to see you, though. Where did you come from anyways?"

"From Winterfell," she answered. "I am Leila Lannister's maid now, though. I already told you…I will explain everything later. Now is not the time. It's too dangerous."

Renly just shrugged and kissed Miriam's cheek.

"I must go. I have business," he said and disappeared down a hall.

Damn it all, Miriam thought. I really need to get back to Leila. I didn't think this through very well. So far at least no one means me harm…

And again she was stopped!

A man detached himself from the doorway of a room where she and Renly had spoken. The man was taller than Miriam and lean. His high collar was pinned by a sigil Miriam had never seen before…a mockingbird. His mustache and little beard were neatly trimmed. He sauntered over to her.

"I had plans to just speak with Renly, but I never expected to overhear such a fascinating conversation!" The man exclaimed.

Miriam wanted to take a step back, but she remained in the same spot. She would look suspicious if she tried to get away.

"Lord…?" She trailed off.

"Lord Petyr Baelish," he said to her. "I know your grandmother. She's a fine woman. Miriam Tyrell…it's nice to make your acquaintance."

"Will you tell the King and Queen –" Miriam started.

"Relax." Lord Baelish's voice was raspy and resounded with fake kindness. "I overheard what you said to Renly. You have nothing to worry about around me. I am a friend to the Tyrells…"

Miriam sighed. So far so good.

"If you ever need something from me, tell me. I wish to serve. My residence is just east of the Keep," he said. "I have a…shall we say…business there. Just ask for me, and you shall find me."

"You're being awfully kind," she said automatically.

"Like I said…I know your grandmother," he smirked at her. "Now…I would think dear Leila has awoken by now. Perhaps you should see to your friend. Until we meet again."

He bowed and went back inside the room he'd come from. Miriam stared at the doorway for a moment. Then she shook her head, and this time she ran to Miriam's tower for fear of being caught for a fourth time.

Already her plan was failing. Three men in the capital knew who she was, and she was pregnant with a bastard. Did she honestly think she could pull this off?

You're a failure, Miriam.

Her eyes flashed just as she was about to knock on Leila's door. She was a Tyrell… She may have been a bastard, but she was still the granddaughter of Lady Olenna Tyrell and had been afforded the surname of her father. She would not fail her family. She would assist them in their rise to power.