(A.N: Reviews and Comments make me write faster!)
Chapter IV
In regards to her current predicament, Myrcella had planned to visit Maggy the Frog, the witch Melara had mentioned to her the day before. She hoped to gain insight into her current situation, wherein her mind had somehow travelled back twenty-four years and was now inhabiting her mother's body. Naturally, she thought to do so alone and unbothered, without any prying eyes or ears. A hard feat to accomplish, after all she was the daughter of the mightiest Lord in the seven Kingdoms. She had counted on the assumption that Lord Tywin and the guests would be busy on the recently announced hunting trip.
But her hopes were dashed the moment she was summoned to the maester's tower, where she would undoubtedly face an inconvenience. Which she did, but through no fault of hers.
It turns out every time either Cersei or Jaime misbehaved, Lord Tywin would summon them both.
Lord Tywin assessed the twins coolly as they waited outside the maester's chambers. "Who did it?" he demanded. "Who pushed Stannis Baratheon down the stairs?
She was taken aback. "What?!" she uttered in disbelief. Myrcella looked at the young Jaime beside her. The boy shifted uncomfortably under his father's scrutiny, but she could see the small glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
Oh no… Why did he do that?! What's wrong with him?!
"Well?" Lord Tywin said, his voice cold and sharp as steel. "Aren't you going to answer your father?"
I did not! Obviously! Myrcella wanted to protest, but before she could utter a word the door to the maester's chambers flung open. Out stepped Lord Steffon and his injured son, Stannis. Despite the arm sling supporting his injured limb, the boy stood straight, his jaw clenched in quiet fury. Yet, his eyes revealed a different story, one of frustration. Myrcella couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the boy who managed to look both so furious and so wretched at the same time.
Lord Tywin turned his attention to the Baratheons. "Steffon, how is your son faring?" he asked in a tone that was almost gentle.
"It's just a sprained wrist, Tywin," Lord Steffon replied, his voice laid-back and measured, as if trying to diffuse the tension in the room. "Stannis just likes to make a fuss."
The boy was clearly insulted. "I do not!" he exclaimed.
His father ignored him and continued. "They are just children, Tywin. They fight. It's over. There is nothing to worry about. No lasting harm was done," he said in a dismissive tone.
A shiver ran down Myrcella's spine. Something about those words was terribly familiar to her, yet she couldn't quite place it.
"No lasting harm?!" Stannis repeated, outraged. "That damn brat pushed me down the stairs."
"Stannis…" Lord Steffon's voice was low and cautionary. "Remembered what I told you yesterday."
"But I tried to be civil!" he yelled, his voice dripping with frustration, before turning to Jaime with a venomous glare. However, his eyes accidentally met Myrcella's in the process, and flinched as he realized she was there. The boy looked down in embarrassment. "I tried… I did…" he repeated awkwardly.
"So it was Jaime, then?" Lord Tywin Lannister inquired, and Steffon nodded in confirmation. "He will be punished accordingly," Lord Tywin declared sternly, his gaze shifting towards his son.
Jaime almost shrugged. But he knew better.
"Then it's settled," Lord Steffon declared with joyous finality. "Let's put this matter to rest and focus on more pleasant activities, like going hunting."
"I am afraid that would not be possible, my lord," another voice interjected, drawing everyone's attention. It was the maester; whose name Myrcella had yet to learn. "Allowing young Stannis to partake in the hunt would pose an undue risk to his safety."
Lord Steffon's expression soured at the maester's response. "And what is my son going to do then?" he demanded, but the maester remained silent. Frustrated, the Lord of Storm's End turned to Lord Tywin. "Could your Jaime stay and keep my son company?" he proposed, "Perhaps that way our sons could learn to get along."
Myrcella couldn't help but notice the glare Stannis shot in his father's direction and the way he started grinding his teeth. Some things never change… she mused.
"I believe it would be wise to keep them separated for a while," Lord Tywin suggested, then an awkward silence settled over the room.
"My apologies, my lord," the maester added, trying to ease the tension. "I could provide young Stannis with books on hunting and falconry, so he can still learn about the subject."
Stannis attention perked at the prospect. His father, however, did not seem as excited.
"Books…" Lord Steffon made the word an obscenity and shook his head. "More bloody books," he muttered angrily.
Myrcella found herself possessed of an odd courage. "Mayhaps he could…" she began and her eyes searched the room for a suggestion. She looked out the window and saw the large sprawling city under Casterly Rock. "…visit Lannisport."
Everyone in the room stared at her, surprised by her suggestion.
Lord Steffon's scowl disappeared, and he looked at Myrcella with a hint of interest. "Visit Lannisport?" he repeated.
"Well, it's a beautiful city, and there's much to see and learn," Myrcella explained, feeling a little nervous under the weight of his gaze. Seeing the man threw her off a little. With his black beard and bright blue eyes it was odd how much King Robert and Renly would resemble him.
He is their father after all…Children take after their fathers… She looked at Jaime again. Same eyes, same hair, same face…
Across the room the maester seemed to be considering the idea. "It could be a good opportunity for the young Stannis to broaden his horizons," he commented thoughtfully.
Steffon Baratheon granted the maester a disdainful and annoyed look, then turned his gaze back at Tywin Lannister. His eyes hopeful.
"Gerion could take him today," the blond man conceded.
The Stormlord looked at his son again, then turned to Lord Tywin once more. "Then it's settled."
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This couldn't have worked out better, Myrcella thought giddily. She could now safely go to see Maggy the Frog alone and unbothered. Her uncle Gerion was about to take the young Stannis Baratheon to Lannisport. To those two, "Cersei" would remain in Casterly Rock in the company of the other girls. To these other girls "Cersei" was about to accompany her uncle and the young lordling to Lannisport.
But in truth, she was going to visit the witch.
And the best part of it all, she didn't even mean for this to happen. That was bound to be a good omen.
She waited till three hours past noon until she finally felt it was safe to sneak out of her chambers. Dressed plainly in hunting greens, Myrcella made her way down the corridors of Casterly Rock, careful to avoid the prying eyes of the guards. She had to be cautious, especially since she was headed towards the fortress' gates.
Myrcella decided that it would be more cautious to go on foot. The sun was beating down fiercely as she stepped outside, but the girl pressed on, walking through the longer and winding forested path, which was ––according to one of the maidservants–– a more cautious alternative than any other path that led to the city gates.
After a couple of hours she reached the gates of the gold road; the largest that gave entrance to Lannisport. She rested there for a while, and because it was too hot, she removed her roughspun cloak, revealing her golden hair to the sun. Unlike in Dorne, no one was going to suspect a blond-haired child walking in the wilderness.
She searched the sun to find her position before continuing on her journey. About a mile north-east, Melara had said, and about a mile south-west to return to the safety of the road, she concluded herself.
Myrcella walked for what felt like hours, which she likely did, for the sun was starting to cast it's more candid yet dimmer glow. She treaded carefully through the dense forest, until she finally spotted a small clearing up ahead. The clearing was just as Melara had described, with a large black-green tent erected in the centre.
Myrcella's heart raced with apprehension as she approached the tent. She pushed aside the heavy dark curtains that covered the entrance and stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of burning herbs and exotic spices Myrcella could not recognize, and the only light came from a few flickering candles scattered around the room.
She saw her squat figure sitting in a chair at the back of the tent, her yellow eyes gleaming with a queer malice and wrinkled and oily face filled with warts. She reminded Myrcella more of a lizard than a woman. Her face twisted the moment she saw her.
The witch's face was contorted in a snarl, revealing a mouth devoid of any teeth. "You should not have come here, creature," she croaked, her voice a warning. "You do not belong in this place."
Myrcella flinched. The witch realized who she was immediately.
She truly has powers…
"Morghulis Tanhos…" the witch croaked in a language Myrcella could not recognize. The witch seemed angry yet terribly uncertain. She was holding a foreign dagger whose steel shone in a greenish hue by the candle light, for some reason she played with it. "Reveal yourself!" the witch commanded.
Myrcella hesitated for a moment, reflecting on the possible outcomes. She felt her heart lodge in her throat. Yet the girl did not relent and stepped forward. "This is Cersei, of House Lannister. But my––"
Before she could finish the witch lunged towards her. Myrcella stumbled back, her heart pounding in her chest as the witch's cold, bony fingers closed around her wrist. She tried to pull away, but the old woman's grip was surprisingly strong.
"LIAR!" she roared, wrathful. And drew the dagger and pressed it against her throat. "You are not Cersei of House Lannister!"
Myrcella felt the cold steel against her skin and suddenly felt dizzy. She was reminded of Dorne, the desert, her death.
"Xakarxa Zzazza Ekakaretaroxhena!" she shouted desperately. "Xakarxa Zzazza Ekakaretaroxhena!"
Fear coursed through her veins and the girl began to shake. Soon after tears began to pour down her cheeks. "Please…" she begged; her voice filled with dread. "I… I…" she stammered.
"Now your name, Morghulis Tanhos!" the witch demanded. "Reveal yourself!"
"I came for answers!" Myrcella finally scream. "Please don't––!"
"YOUR NAME!" The witch roared. "YOUR TRUE NAME!"
"Myrcella!" she shouted in anguish. "Myrcella! Myrcella! Myrcella!"
"After who do you come, creature?!" the witch questioned, her dagger still pressed against the girl's throat.
But before Myrcella could answer a voice shouted in anger.
"Let her go!"
Myrcella immediately recognized the voice.
Him?!
Good gods…
A.N: Sorry for the Cliff Hanger... Couldn't resist. But don't worry, next chapter is coming soon!
Anyways, thanks for all of the reviews!