Everything in A song of Ice and Fire belongs to George R. R. Martin.
Myrcella Baratheon: Bride of a Northern Savage
Chapter 05
Bran Stark
Despite father's favour to try to reach out to the princess, Bran did not manage to do this that evening. Myrcella coldly offered her hand to him, not saying a word. To be honest, Bran wasn't eager to start a conversation with her either. Shortly after the betrothal became known to the public, thanks to the king, Myrcella seemed to have left the hall as she was nowhere to be seen.
He felt uncomfortable when his siblings; Robb, Sansa, Arya and Rickon, along with Domeric Bolton, Jeyne Poole and Ned Umber looked at him when they heard that he was going to marry Myrcella. They immediately began harassing him with congratulations and questions.
"Oh, that is so wonderful!" Sansa, who was always a romantic person, declared. "You are going to marry a princess, Bran, I am so proud of you!"
Bran rolled his eyes as he sensed some jealousy from Sansa's voice. It was obvious that she was jealous of him marrying a princess while she always wanted to marry the prince. Robb gave his congratulations too, along with his pregnant wife Alys.
"Way to go, brother!" Arya then added, playfully punching her brother in the shoulder. "You are now stuck, just like Sansa here."
"Says the one who is also betrothed and will soon marry." Bran responded cheekily, making Robb, Alys and Domeric laugh while Arya gave them a glare, annoyed from being reminded of her betrothal with the Umber boy. Bran tensed even more when shortly after the king announced the betrothal, his father stood up to also make an announcement.
"It has been decided," his father declared. "That my son, Brandon Stark and Princess Myrcella shall marry on the same day as Lord Eddard Umber and Arya Stark shall."
Bran looked up and shivered as he saw the queen starring at him, as if she wanted to kill him. The boy already knew that the queen may be beautiful, but she was not a good-natured woman like his mother, Catelyn Tully-Stark. He was brought back to reality when he felt somebody pulling the fabric of his clothes. Turning right, Bran looked at his little brother, 10-year-old Rickon Stark.
"Does that mean you have to go away too, Bran?" he asked suddenly. Bran put his fork on the table. He knew what Rickon meant. When Sansa was betrothed to Domeric it was decided that once she would marry the heir of Roose Bolton, this would mark the end of Domeric's fostering in Winterfell and he would return to Dreadfort along with Sansa in order to succeed his father as the keep's new lord and head of House Bolton. Rickon really caused a scene, declaring he did not want Sansa to leave. Father and mother barely managed to calm the young boy down.
History repeated itself once Arya Stark was betrothed to Ned Umber. Rickon feared that she would leave Winterfell and live in the Last Hearth. Now, Bran was betrothed to Myrcella and Rickon was afraid to lose his brother too. To be honest, Bran was not sure where he and Myrcella would go once they were wed. He hoped they would stay in Winterfell.
"I honestly don't know." Bran answered to the ten-year-old.
"I don't want you and Arya to go." Rickon whined. Arya then joined the conversation.
"I don't think that Bran would be leaving," she said. "And if yes, then it is something he has to do. But don't worry," she added, messing wit5h the young boy's auburn hair. "You can visit us whenever you like."
"Really?" Rickon exclaimed from excitement. Chuckling, Arya nodded. Bran smiled at the youngest of the Stark children until he heard Sansa calling him. He looked at his auburn sister.
"What is it, Sansa?" Bran asked.
"What are you doing here?" she suddenly asked. Bran looked at her as if she has a third ear. "I meant why are you sitting here, eating?" she then changed the question.
"Feasting, like the others. Is it not obvious?" Bran asked in return, not understanding what she was getting at.
"I see that," Sansa answered. "Why are you here, when you supposed to be dancing?"
"Dancing?"
"With your betrothed." Sansa added. Bran groaned in frustration. Of course, he should have expected that from her. Sansa was like a true lady born. While his mother was proud of Sansa's behaviour and habits, it did quite annoy others, particularly Arya and Bran. Bran knew that his second sister was forced to live up to the expectations of their mother and Septa Mordane, which he failed due to the lack of talent in sewing, nature and different looks on society. This did not concern Sansa, however, as she continued to interfere in Arya's habits, especially when Arya was betrothed. Sansa immediately used the opportunity to become like a mentor to her sister, telling her what it was expected from her, a future wife. Now, she was doing the same with him.
"From what I see, Sansa, Princess Myrcella has retired for today." Bran answered cheekily, trying to outsmart his older sister.
"Well then, you should still get up and dance," Sansa then told him. "I won't let you spending the whole feast sitting on that chair."
"Robb do something!" Bran called for his older brother, but Robb refused to help him.
"Come on, Bran, have a dance." He told him. "I am staying here with my dear wife." He explained the reason of sitting at the high table, gently stroking Alys' swollen belly. Bran turned to Domeric, but he was heading to dance with Sansa and supported his fiancée. Growling, Bran reluctantly stood up, looking at a smirking Arya, only to hear Sansa's voice again.
"Arya, you and Ned are joining us too."
Soon, it was Arya growling in frustration, while Bran was the one smirking at her, which the Little Wolf noticed. "Get that smirk off your snout!" she demanded, making Bran and Domeric laugh, while Sansa rolled her eyes.
Despite not wanting to dance, Bran was soon enjoying it. Under the guidance of the music, he was dancing with Beth Cassel, while Arya nearby was dancing with Ned Umber. Once the time came to change partners, Bran was engaged with Arya. The two siblings enjoyed the fun as they giggled and laughed while circling around. They changed partners once again and Bran saw Arya with Tommen.
Myrcella Baratheon
It was the Day. The day Myrcella dreaded most since Robert had her betrothed to Lord Stark's son. The day her family would leave her here, up in the North, in the cold and frozen North. Away from warmth, away from family, and away from home.
The courtyard was swarming with people, as the royal party was preparing to leave Winterfell for the journey to King's Landing. Banners of Baratheon and Lannister were flying. Most of them were returning to the capital, except for Myrcella Baratheon, who was staying with the Starks, and her uncle Tyrion Lannister, who was heading further north to Castle Black in order to see the infamous Wall. The princess remembered Tyrion telling legends of the Wall and the Night's Watch, with him being personally obsessed with it. No wonder, from what Myrcella heard the Wall was a wall 700 feet high and made of pure ice, and no stone.
That morning, she was silent as she knew it was the day her family was leaving her in the care of the Starks. She was sitting at the table by herself, breaking her fast, and trying to be distant from her family; Uncle Jaime, mother and Tommen, who were later joined by Uncle Tyrion.
It was unknown where was the king. Either he was still asleep, surrounded by numerous unclothed women, or was already awake, but having a hangover, both of these cases were as a result of his consumption of alcohol during the whole feast and even after it. As usual. Myrcella knew that her dwarf uncle also had a desire for wine, but even he knew the limit and when he had to stop from getting himself dead drunk.
"Is Robert still abed?" Tyrion asked his siblings.
A servant approached. "Bread," Tyrion told him, "and two of those little fish, and a mug of that good dark beer to wash them down. Oh, and some bacon. Burn it until it turns black." The man bowed and moved off. Tyrion turned back to his siblings.
"He should be up now, if you are leaving today." Tyrion told them.
Cersei frowned. "Are we leaving?" she echoed. "What about you? Gods, don't tell me you are staying here?"
Tyrion shrugged. "Benjen Stark is coming from the Night's Watch with his brother's bastard to collect new recruits for the Wall. I have a mind to go with them and see this Wall we have all heard so much of."
Jaime smiled. "I hope you're not thinking of taking the black on us, sweet brother."
Tyrion laughed. "What, me, celibate? The whores would go begging from Dorne to Casterly Rock. No, I just want to stand on top of the Wall and piss off the edge of the world."
Cersei stood abruptly. "The children don't need to hear this filth. Tommen, come." She strode briskly from the morning room, with Tommen trailing behind her.
Tyrion then looked up to Myrcella. "I know you will feel alone her, Cella. But I promise, I'll visit the Wall and on the way south I will visit you in Winterfell. I will be quick."
Myrcella forced a smile, in order to show her uncle that she was fine with the plan. She hoped that he would be quick indeed. At least she would have Septa Eglantine with her here.
Now, she stood in aligned with the Stark children as the wheelhouse was being packed with the belongings of her mother and brothers and ready to go. Myrcella saw her mother finally exiting the keep with Lady Catelyn following her. Myrcella hoped that mother would approach and hug her, but was heartbroken to see Cersei displaying an angry look, ignoring her and everyone.
"I can assure you, your grace," Lady Catelyn told the queen. "Your daughter will be safe. I swear by the Gods. Bran is a very sweet boy."
Cersei Lannister forced a smile before leaving and approaching the wheelhouse. Myrcella shivered as she noticed her mother giving Robert a deadly glare. She then coldly offered her hand to a Lannister soldier, who helped her to get into the cart. Her father was nowhere near better. He didn't even look at her, as he was already sitting on horseback. Myrcella felt pity for the stallion that was forced to hold that sack of fat on top. Joffrey completely ignored her, not that she really cared. The only ones who bid farewell were her Uncle Jaime and Tommen. She felt tension when her brother approached her.
"Alright, I guess we bid farewell, dear sister…" Tommen began before Myrcella interrupted him.
"Tommen, I'm so sorry for yelling at you back then." Myrcella apologised. "I was just shocked from the news and I have no excuses. Please, I didn't mean to yell at you." Myrcella explained when suddenly, Tommen pulled the girl into a hug.
"I'm not angry at your, Cella," he told her. "You have nothing to apologise for. I love you, sister."
"I love you too, brother." Myrcella answered. They held in each other's embrace for some time until King Robert ruined the moment.
"Oi, boy! Come along, I want to get out of this frozen land as quickly as possible!" he roared at Tommen, making the 13-year-old curse to himself as the golden-haired girl heard him doing it.
"Be safe," the princess warned her brother. "With me gone, who will defend you from Joffrey?"
"Don't worry, I'll be careful and vigilant," Tommen assured her, smiling. On the verge of crying, Myrcella parted ways with her beloved brother who headed towards his horse, as he decided to head south on horseback, along with Ser Jaime Lannister. With the king's command, the royal party began departing Winterfell, with Tyrion and a few soldiers left within the keep. Standing with Septa Eglantine, Myrcella gripped the fabric of her dress, mentally telling herself to not to cry and be strong. She was a princess, princesses do not cry. Although she did not cry, a couple of tears still escaped her beautiful green eyes.
She was now left here, in the North and as a ward of House Stark.
