Bells rang throughout Kings Landing signaling doom was coming for them. All worthy women and children inside the Red Keep were to meet with the Queen and take refuge in the Queen's Ballroom; she did not want to think what would happen to the rest. The sun had set already and all Myrna could see was dark silhouettes of men rushing in and out the doors that led out to the Blackwater as she made her way to the ballroom. Her handmaiden was persistent in rushing towards the ballroom, but Myrna felt like running outside with the men rather than being trapped inside with scared women and children. She believed that she would have been more useful out there, but no one would believe her. In the back of her mind she could not help but think how she could be free again if the city were to fall but that would mean the cost of these men's lives.
After following a small crowd of other women they found the Queen's Ballroom and met with the guards posted outside the doors. Small talk and the crying of babes filled their ears when the doors creaked opened and they rushed in like a stream. Most of the women peeked at them for a second to see who they were. Many had arrived earlier than they had, and Myrna smiled when she saw a familiar face. Sansa sat with a circle of women and Myrna went to greet her. The redhaired beauty wore a rose colored dress with a magnificently crafted metal band around the waist. Her hair was pulled back with two thick braids on either side of her head, the rest of her hair was down and curled. They hugged tight when Sansa caught sight of her.
"Oh, Myrna. You seem well..." she softly said when she pulled away and took a shy step back.
Smiling, she nodded. "As do you. But you have become good at hiding how you really feel," Myrna noticed as Sansa held a content expression. She seemed to not want to reply to that. "That's a good thing," she added with a whisper and a brighter smile.
"I suppose. Joffrey made me kiss his sword before he went off," she rolled her eyes.
Myrna shrugged. "Better than him," she suggested. Both giggled.
An awkward silence came between them after their laugh but Sansa seemed to have had something on her mind. "Is it true?" Sansa asked a question as her eyes darted to the floor and she played with the ends of her auburn hair.
"Hm?" Myrna raised an eyebrow.
Her green eyes glued onto Myrna's dark eyes and her mouth gawked a bit before continuing. Whatever she did, though, made her incredibly beautiful. "The Hound stood between you and Joffrey..." she trailed off.
Before Myrna could even open her mouth to respond someone called to them.
"Sansa! Myrna! Why has no one told me my Northern beauties have arrived? Come! Come!" Queen Regent Cersei called rather crudely from a corner she had sat down. A mountain of beige and red silk pillows were placed around the Queen Regent which matched the Queen's blood red dress, and a low wooden table that held refreshments were near her. A handmaid stood nearby waiting to pour wine when needed. Immediately they obeyed, knowing making the Queen wait would only make their experience worse. When Myrna reached closer to Cersei she could immediately tell Cersei was drunk from the smell and the expression on the Queen's face. There was a smile plain on her face but it was crooked, and her eyes glared at them. "Sit with me. Talk with me," she commanded and they found places comfortable enough for their bottoms with the help of the pillows.
"It was very kind of you to invite us here, Your Grace," Sansa began. Myrna agreed with her.
Cersei let out a chuckle as she threw her shoulders back. "It was my duty, my little doves. You think I wanted this?" she waved her hand around. Myrna could feel most of the attention on her. There was a discussion Cersei wanted to have with her, and Myrna dreaded that. "Counting down the days for your wedding?" Cersei asked with a sly smile.
Myrna did not reply, but quietly held eye contact with the queen. Sansa fidgeted, obviously at unease with the tension in the air.
"Let us help you, sweetling. I'm sure Sansa and I can give you advice," she glanced at Sansa and then back at her.
Calm yourself, Myrna reminded her that there was no way to win an argument with a queen, especially one like Cersei. "If you want to help me, you can call off this wedding," she said as soothing as she could manage.
The wicked smile on Cersei's face melted into a frown. "Remind me, little dove, how old are you?"
"Twenty-one," Myrna immediately replied in a monotone voice.
"Twenty-one," Cersei repeated just as quick. "When I was twenty-one I was wed and ready to birth my second child already. To a man who knew nothing else but to eat, hunt and fuck whores. You think this is what I wanted?" her face was beginning to flush but she looked away in disgust and picked up her goblet. The handmaiden standing by rushed to fill the cup with wine.
The Northern girls exchanged glances. They were going to have to be extra careful. "I apologize, Your Grace," Myrna said solemnly.
"No, no, 'tis alright. You're still blessed with youth. A bit overdue for a noble lady, but still young," she sounded almost jealous.
After Cersei sipped more wine, she made a noise that was almost like a laugh. Myrna and Sansa stared at her confused.
"That was distasteful for me to yell at you, little dove. I guess I would not know the pain of my whole house and town being slaughtered and burned to the dirt," Cersei took another sip of wine. Myrna gripped the skirt of her dress, hands balled into fists. "How could anyone compare anything to that? Unless, you were to wed the man that did just that. Burn everything you love to the ground. That would be a very, very unpleasant situation..." she swirled her wine around in her cup as she stared at it.
Sansa could not keep quiet any longer. "Why does Myrna have to marry Ser Gregor? Everyone knows that he-"
"Because Myrna has to do her duty just like you!" Cersei spat in her direction now. "Joffrey will give you no less trouble. I apologize for that, but that is the truth. He's always been difficult..." she trailed off on a more melancholic note.
The chatter in the room died when a knight came rushing in through the doors. He directly went in front of Cersei and bowed stiffly. His steel armor was covered in blood and the smell filled the room. She leaned to the side when he approached her to whisper something in her ear. Are we losing the battle? Myrna wondered, trying to decipher if it was good or bad news by the expression on Cersei's hard face. That itself was impossible to do. The women began talking again softly as they began to wonder the same thing. The knight was soon dismissed and returned from where he came from. All eyes were planted on Cersei but she did not seem to care as she took another sip from her goblet.
The three women sat there in silence for a moment. Cersei's handmaiden had poured wine for Myrna and Sansa as well and they would occasionally take a sip to avoid being yelled at from Cersei. Myrna had acquired the taste for wine more than Sansa had, but Myrna was older than the girl. Wine would help Myrna deal with the pain. Even on these pillows, Myrna's back could never feel right in a tight dress. Every morning she felt like crying before having to suffer having her corset tightened around her waist by her handmaiden. The one thing Myrna requested when she arrived here was to have only one handmaiden so she would not be burdened to have to explain her back so many times. The day she received the ruins on her back still lingered in her dreams.
"So, Myrna. Why don't you tell us what you did before coming here? What would Myrna Beaumont, a noble lady of the North, do after surviving such a tragedy?" Cersei broke the silence.
Not really sure how to answer that, she looked to Sansa. The girl had seemed curious as well as she waited eagerly for what Myrna had to say. "There was lots of traveling..." Myrna began. She groped her neck, worried about where this would go.
"I bet that was exciting. But all by yourself?" Cersei tilted her head.
"No. I had a friend with me..." Myrna placed her hands on her lap now and adjusted herself.
"Oh? Another survivor from Beaumont Hall? What was her name?"
"He was a boy. Desmond. He saved me," Myrna admitted. She hadn't said his name in over a year and it felt like bringing back to life what she wanted to leave behind.
Now it was Sansa asking a question. "Wasn't that dangerous?"
"I knew how to protect myself," she tried to make her answer short. If these women knew how she lived before they would make her a laughingstock for the rest of her time here.
Sansa smiled. "You sound like my sister Arya," she softly said but when she saw Cersei's frown she immediately looked down at her feet and her beautiful smile vanished.
"A shame Arya is missing," Cersei gave her empty condolences to Sansa.
Myrna had only been here for a year and did not know what they were talking about. She knew about Ned Stark. Everyone did in Westeros, and it was a shock for her when she heard of what happened. She remembered how her friend Desmond disappeared for a whole day, he had never been the type to get emotional in front of people. Myrna and the rest of her house and town were raised to have respect and love for their Warden of the North and she had the chance to meet him once when she was young. That was when she also met Sansa, who could have only been about three or four at the time. If Sansa had younger siblings, she never met them.
Once again, the door opened but this time it was Lancel Lannister limping into the room. His appearance made a few woman gasp. An arrow was deep in his shoulder which he held with his opposite hand gently. He must have fallen as he was covered in dirt and blood, and an ankle was sprained which left him struggling to walk.
"Your Grace. They made it to the shores. We are struggling to keep them out..." he nervously looked around the room. He nearly looked as frightened as the women.
Cersei stood up quickly. "Bring Joffrey back inside. Tell him to return to his chambers immediately!" she ordered.
"But... But Your Grace... I cannot do that. The men out there need morale-" Cersei's fist lunged at his wounded shoulder, and when he screamed the women in the room joined with him.
Cersei stepped over Lancel who was now sobbing on the ground and darted out of the room. The guards posted at the door followed her which left them completely vulnerable for any of the enemy's men who were able to break through the gates.
Myrna pulled up Sansa by her wrists. "You must go to your bedchambers, that is the safest place for you. Bar your doors."
"No, not without you. Please come with me," Sansa pleaded.
I cannot, Myrna thought. This was too good of an opportunity. Perhaps she could escape. Then again, Sansa would be all alone if she had managed to leave this place. It was not possible to bring Sansa, she knew that would be too difficult. Sansa was too well known. The decision had to be made.
"Just go. I will return to my own chambers," Myrna felt a wave of guilt as she lied to her only friend. She watched Sansa back away and then hurry out the door herself, her red hair bouncing behind her.
With a nervous exhale, she walked out the wide opened doors when Sansa was out of sight. She remembered Ser Meryn was the one they gave her dagger to when the Lannister men brought her to the capital. There was no way she could leave without that. Luckily for her, she had always planned of escaping and was able to find out where the Kingsguard men slept in case she ever had the chance. The White Sword Tower, they called it. The problem was, she always walked the corridors during the day. Now the visibility in the corridors was little to none since the sun was down. Just take a chance and go, Myrna told herself. Her heart pounded hard as her feet pounded against the stone beneath her feet, nearly blind. She stopped when she could no longer go straight and turned a corner, following the rough stone walls with a hand. Eventually that corridor turned into the top of a stairway and she nearly fell when she made that discovery. In order to get to the tower she had to find the Round Room which was on the main floor so she needed to stay on the main floor. Myrna struggled to think of where she made a wrong turn.
Far behind her from where she came screams of dying men made her freeze. Myrna crouched down to her knees with the skirt of her dress piled around her and did her best to see what was happening but panicked when clangs and footsteps came from the bottom of the stairway. Trapped, she held her breath and prayed it was dark enough for them not to notice her sitting against the wall. Men in heavy, noisy armor ran up the steps and the Gods must have heard her prayer since they only hastened when they reached the top step and ran down the corridor. They left behind the stench of piss and blood. Perhaps they are Kingsguard men running away from the battle to gather their belongings, she thought. They could lead me straight to where I need to go. Myrna waited for the right moment to start running after them. As their footsteps seemed far enough for them not to hear her own she ran in their direction, but she could probably follow on scent alone. The stench was vile. They had been around corpses for some time.
Myrna was chasing them for what felt like a very long time, and with no idea where she was headed. They took so many turns and soon she knew there was no way she could backtrace her steps if she needed to. She made herself believe it was only the darkness that made it feel like such a maze. Then Myrna realized the footsteps disappeared when a light came at the end of the final corridor. Concerned, she stopped running and put her back against the wall and walked slowly to the open and well lit area, ignoring the pains in her lower back. She hoped this was the Round Room she had been searching all this time for.
The room was much brighter than the hall she was in and she had to adjust her eyes in order to see everything. Not only were more fires burning inside the room along the walls but the walls were whitewashed stone and the room was a circle. The Round Room! I found it! Myrna threw her head back in relief and sighed as she continued to examined the room. In the middle was a unique white table, shaped odd and had seven chairs lazily put back in place. Myrna figured that was where they would hold their meetings. Past the table Myrna found the staircase. The men I followed must have gone up there, she took a deep breath and walked hastily around the table.
Before she put her foot on the first step she noticed something odd. The large window near her had green light pouring in. Squinting and shading her eyes with a hand, she looked outside and all she saw was fire. The fire had a green hue to it, and she had never seen anything spread so fast.
"Are you a member of the Kingsguard now?" a voice rumbled behind her.
Myrna felt like she jumped out of her skin. She swirled around, back pushed up against the window. "You..." she muttered.
The Hound's face was drenched with sweat and smears of dark red blood were everywhere on him. His brown hair clung to his face and left his burn completely exposed, not that he seemed to care. He seemed different somehow, though. Like he had lost something.
"What are you doing here, girl?" his voice was the softest she had ever heard it, but still rough.
Myrna had no choice but to confess. "Ser Meryn has something of mine. I need it back before I go," she kept her shoulders back and her chin up. She had no idea why she was being so confident in front of The Hound. The man could take her down in one swing.
His one good eyebrow narrowed as he stared at her, thinking. "What could that rat have that you need?"
"My dagger. My brother gave me a dagger and they gave it to Ser Meryn when they brought me here. I need it back," she insisted.
The Hound laughed. "Are you talking about that dagger with the tree engraved on the blade?"
Her eyebrows rose. "Yes, that's the one... how do you know?"
"That cunt never shuts up about it. Here, I'll grab that precious dagger of yours. And don't you fucking run off unless you want some other man to catch you. He won't be as nice as me," he snarled as he marched up the staircase to the next floor.
He didn't even question me about running away, Myrna gawked up the staircase still stunned at his generosity. Soon her surprise turned into impatience. She kept pacing in circles, occasionally stopping at the window while hugging herself. The flames danced along the bay, even on the water. How horrible, she thought. So many men probably died right where she was looking at. Burning alive was one of the worst ways to go. Unfortunately, she had seen it first hand in her past. How many fathers and sons were lost this day? How many wives will grieve? More women would be lonely after this night, just as she was.
A scream came from the top of the stairway. Myrna paused and waited. Then she started hearing footsteps prattle down quickly. She held her breath and she released it when she saw it was The Hound and not some other man she would have to deal with on her own. When he reached the bottom he held out her dagger towards her that she had not seen for over a year, but she could barely tell it was hers. It was covered in fresh blood and she gave him a dirty look.
"It was cleaner the last time I saw it," she uttered.
The Hound growled. "There was a man in my way!" he used the dagger to point up the steps. In the other hand he held a sack but she could not tell what was inside, but it held much.
"What's that?" she pointed at the sack.
He looked down at it. "My belongings. You think I'm going to let you go on your own?" he sat the sack down for a second to grab a piece of cloth out from his pocket and clean her blade for her. After examining it for a few seconds he grabbed the blade end and handed it to her. The hilt felt right in her hand when she took it from him, the spiral wooden hilt was a common thing for a sword or dagger at Beaumont Hall.
Myrna shook her head as she pulled her attention away from her dagger. "But why? What about Joffrey?"
"Fuck Joffrey. I don't want to be here one more minute than necessary and I'm pretty damn sure you feel the same way. We need to leave now," he picked up his sack of personal items and began walking towards the hallway she came from.
"Wait," Myrna called to him. "Sansa. We can't leave Sansa here. Why don't we take her with us?"
The Hound stopped walking but didn't look back at her. "I tried. The little bird won't leave her cage," he bellowed. "No use going all the way back there. If you don't want to marry my brother I suggest you follow me," he did not wait for any response and entered the dark hallway with just a few belongings, never intending on coming back.
He tried to take Sansa away on his own will? Myrna fumbled with her dagger while looking down, running her finger over the Beaumont tree sigil engraved on it. So he was planning on leaving even before he found me? For some reason she felt like a fool. Light from flames reflected off the silver steel on her blade. She could see her dark eyes look back at her, sad and deep. This was no way to live and sometimes sacrifices must be made. Straightening her posture, she ran out of the Round Room and to the man who was willing to take her out of this hell.