Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to A Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire-all are properties of George R. R. Martin. I am writing this merely for my own entertainment.

Those Sweet Summer Days: Part I

The Beginning of the End

The torches burned merrily in their iron sconces, flames gently licking the brick walls and casting an orange pallor on any who passed through their warm embrace. Tommen paused at the edge, where night warred with the light, half of his tunic illuminated by the dancing embers. He turned around to face his companion, shining obsidian flecks in a sea of white peering out from the shadows before asking in an unusually solemn voice. "Are you sure you want to do this? The rest of the city, it's nothing like the keep."

Myrcella stared resolutely at her brother before nodding, eyes reflecting the flames and burning with desire. "You've told me so many tales of what's beyond these walls and I just can't wait any—mphh!" Her words were cut off as she found her brothers' palm slapped over her mouth and she was pushed into an alcove in the wall. Above them, the moon shined brightly through an open slit, wrapping them in silvery light. The princess stumbled as she moved backwards, and only her brother's weight kept her upright—sandwiched as she was between unyielding stone and hard leather. On her lips, she could feel the soft pounding of his heart and the taste of something vaguely metallic.

Despite her outburst, the night remained quiet, the only sounds being the distant clanking of metallic boots upon stone and the gentle hum of ocean waves. "Do you know the meaning of sneaking, dear sister?" His eyes fixed her with a stern, level gaze, but his voice retained its teasing lilt. "It means we must be quiet and NOT shout."

Myrcella, her hair looking like pooled moonlight beneath the cloudless sky, stared demurely downwards, cheeks flushing as she realized she had nearly ended their adventure before it began. Her right hand nervously tugged at a golden lock that smelled of summer rains as she softly apologized. "I'm sorry, I just got so caught up in the moment. It's just..." She bit her lip. "It's like the song's don't you think? The knight stealing away the princess in the middle of the night?"

Tommen chuckled as he gently forced her to meet his gaze, "Aye, and in the song's the knight is never caught. So shall we depart, your highness?" He took a step back and offered her his hand, and in that moment, with his skin glowing like a falling star beneath the crescent moon, Myrcella thought there had never lived a more gallant knight, or a kinder brother.

Further down the hallway, outside of the flickering embrace of the torches, a guard stopped and surveyed the scene before smiling and continuing his patrol, a flowing white cape gently kissing the ground behind him.


The second the pair passed the portcullis into the city proper, the stench hit them with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Despite the gentle caress of the ocean breeze carrying the scent of brine and salt, the smell of a hundred thousand unwashed bodies, human and animal refuse, and rotting matter, mixed to create a pungent cocktail that nearly overwhelmed them both.

Myrcella wrinkled her nose as she brought a delicate gilded glass vial up to her face, the scent of roses momentarily overwhelming the pervasive aroma of the city. Tommen laughed as he offered her his arm. "I've been to the city half a hundred times, and still the scent bothers me." His eyes crinkled a bit, "But I must say you're taking this much better than I did my first time. I must have spewed half a dozen times before I reached the tavern." As they walked he pointed out the spots, some of which were still discolored.

The princess, bundled in an old threadbare cloak patched with a myriad of colorful threads, laughed. "Please, don't tell me that brother. I'm having trouble enough keeping myself together as is!" From beneath her hood, her eyes gleamed like mirrors, reflecting the winking flames of the torches that lined the street.

The street below them shifted from artfully crafted cobbled stone to well trodden dirt paths as they continued to chat, their laughs mingling with the raucous sounds of the night. As they approached their destination, the prince covered his distinctive obsidian mane with his hood, before giving a bow to his sister. "This, my dear sister, is the most lively tavern in all of Kingslanding! I know at least two ships from Braavos came in tonight, and I think one of the captain's owes me a drink. Perhaps we can get them to tell us tales of their travels?" He flashed an infectious grin as they both reached out towards the worn oaken doors of The Sailor's Kiss. Above them, a weather worn sign with the likeness of a scantily clad mermaid twirled in the ocean's breeze, the once vivid paints faded to a pale shadow. The oak was warm to the touch and as they gently pushed, the sounds of laughter, music and shouting came rushing out as the doors creaked open. At the sound, a sensation of giddiness poured over the two siblings. Tonight, they were not royalty, nor did they hold the obligations of seven kingdoms over their head. Tonight, they were merely children and the sense of liberation was a rush like no other.


This chapter is unfinished, I just wanted to post something tonight. I plan on revising it and continuing sometime this weekend. I might also change tommen's name, if anyone have suggestions as to what might fit better I would gladly hear them? Ideally it would be the name of some past Baratheon. As usual, unbeta'd and may thus contain spelling or grammatical errors

Thanks to sp90Tango, marah lane and guest for reviewing. Sp90: I'm considering making the chapters longer, however that will make updates much more sporadic. Marah: thanks for the kind words! I'm glad you enjoy my imagery. Guest: She is more content with her husband, and as such she has given him a trueborn heir. But she has loved her brother since they were teenagers and still believes him to be the only one that can complete her. Jofferey will be less psychotic, but I wouldn't hope for too much. My general impression of him was that he is psychotic due to his genes more than his upbringing, and nurture can only combat one's nature so much.

Finally a question to whoever's been reading—would you prefer I continue these small near daily updates or sporadic larger updates? If you've got comments, questions, corrections, etc. feel free to leave a review.