Chapter Six: Myrcella II

Myrcella braced herself as the Lady Lyanna docked at Dragonstone. She had handled the swaying of the decks as they traveled from King's Landing, though that meant she was responsible for keeping Tommen company and distract him from sea sickness for the short voyage from King's Landing.

A Royal welcome awaited as King Robert and his family set foot onto the ancient redoubt of the Targaryen family. In theory, it should be Joffery's, but not only was Joffery a mere boy, there were still concerns regarding the bastions of Dragon Loyalists lying in wait for the first opportunity to turn their coats back. Her brother would be easily cowed, eaten alive, or spurred to ill-advised actions if he were allowed to assume the traditional seat of the Crown Prince.

Uncle Stannis appeared to have them well in hand, though. If both sides were not precisely happy, they were not burning each other out of their castles or leading open revolts. Ideally, it should have been sufficient evidence that his placement was fulfilling the role ascribed, though Myrcella never got the impression that her uncle agreed. Mother didn't seem to think so.

Father only paid the barest attention to formalities with his brother, the two barely tolerating one another. If Mother had her way, she would have snubbed the greeting entirely.

On the bright side of things, it meant both of her parents were quick to move along, allowing Myrcella to greet her cousin without further interference, and before mother could scold her.

"Shireen!" Myrcella gave the girl a hug, and held her by the shoulders. "It is so good to see you, cousin."

A year younger than Myrcella, Shireen had suffered and survived a bout of greyscale. The scars were still there, but in its current state it couldn't be passed along, though that failed to convince Mother.

"Another nameday older, cousin. You're certainly taller since I last saw you."

The younger girl shyly smiled at her, clutching a doll possessing deep, dark curls and a forest green dress. She made note to ask her about it later when they had a moment of privacy together.

"Thank you, princess," said Shireen.

"Please. I've told you nearly a dozen times to call me Myrcella."

"Of course, cousin."

That would suffice for the moment. "Now, I'm certain there are plenty more who wish to greet you, so we will have to talk more later."

Passing through Dragonstone, Myrcella noted the decorations. It was, to no surprise, rather bare, and much of it looked like it was strictly for Shireen's nameday.

"This place feels like a crypt," said Joy, once they were in their quarters.

"I would say it feels more like a barracks." Looking through her things, Myrcella found her favorite pink gown precisely where she had left it. "

"But even Lord Tywin keeps more decorations than this, and he's no less offended by pointless displays of wealth than Lord Stannis."

"I find it more appealing than what we had for Joffery's last nameday."

Joy pursed her lips, not quite into a grimace, though that wasn't saying all that much. "You make a good point, Princess."

As Mother's favorite, and as the Crown Prince, Joffery got the greatest share of attention. His nameday was celebrated throughout King's Landing, and the finest foods and the most fanciful of performers were brought in for the occasion.

Sometimes Myrcella wondered if half the court forgot about her and Tommen without a reminder that came once a year. She was arguably Uncle Jaime's favorite, but Tommen could hardly be said to have anyone besides Myrcella, and maybe Uncle Tyrion.

Shireen had no such competition for attention, and Myrcella was almost jealous. Aunt Selyse was certainly…difficult. Myrcella was unsure if the rumors of keeping her stillborn sons in jars was true, but she could be grating, and not just by her voice. Uncle Stannis, though, was stern, but kind in his own way, and it didn't take more than a keen eye to see that he lit up whenever he got to spend time with his daughter.

Myrcella wondered what it would be like to have a father that did that for her.

[TSS]

The feast was well underway. Father was deep into his cups, but had yet to make an embarrassment of himself. It might be unworthy of her as a daughter, but she was not counting on him making it through the night without incident.

Meanwhile, mother was preoccupied with Joffery, and Myrcella took the chance to slip away from the high table with polite excuses to use the privy. An honest reason, though she simply took a detour in returning, and spotted Jon approaching Breeze talking to a man with the same sigil as the latter. House Bar Emmon of Sharp Point, Myrcella mentally recited as she slipped through the crowd to get closer to the meeting as Breeze made introductions.

"Jon, this is Symon Bar Emmon, my eldest brother. Symon, this is Jon, my fellow squire."

"A pleasure to meet you," said Jon, offering out a hand.

"Likewise," Symon answered, clasping Jon's forearm and giving it a quick shake. "I imagine Qarlton has spoken of his family."

"Only good things, Lord Symon."

Symon had dark brown hair and purple eyes, and was shorter, stockier, where Breeze was tall and lean. They had a similar cut to their jawline and nose, though.

"I saw Father and Aelyxa around here." asked Breeze. "Where are the others?"

"Summer is over at Sweetport with her husband expecting their second child."

"Already?"

"Yes. And Cayde is somewhere nearby, likely raiding the dessert table. And River is at home with Mother and Henric."

Jon made a funny face, surprised, and then looked at Breeze. "How many siblings do you have?"

"Six," both brothers answered.

"You have five half-siblings, Jon," said Myrcella, inserting herself in the loose circle. "Even with separations by duties and wartime, that's no small number of children to have."

Rather than jump or flinch, Jon smiled slightly at her and bowed. "Princess Myrcella."

"You knew I was there?" she asked.

"The whole time, Princess."

Myrcella squinted slightly. "I see.

"Pardon my rudeness, Princess," said Symon. "I, for one, did not notice your presence."

"I can forgive this breach of etiquette…if you can tell me how Breeze earned his charming sobriquet? I understand he has proven quite reluctant to repeat the tale, and I almost worry it entails flatulence."

Breeze groaned and made to leave before Symon seized him by the shoulder, holding him in place. This earned him an elbow to the rib, but it was not harsh enough to be a serious effort to do his brother any harm.

"Oh, he was still just a pudgy little boy of six namedays when he stomped into the yard, padded up and a toy sword in hand, demanding a match. We all had a laugh, or at least most of us, at first. The master-at-arms had said a stiff breeze would have a better chance at knocking him over. So, in a fit of fury, Qarlton punches the man square in the nethers, folding him over and dropping him onto his knees."

"Six namedays old?"

Breeze nodded. "You might be surprised what you can do when you catch your opponent unawares, more so when you underestimate them."

"It proved rather amusing," Symon continued. "Even to Ser Hollis, once he had recovered. Turned it into a lesson, as Qarl just quoted, though it still proves an embarrassment. Likely will until he earns his spurs. Or if he's ever named to the Kingsguard."

"That's unlikely," Breeze murmured.

"Right now, yes. You're still a squire."

"Very observant of you, brother."

Myrcella laughed at the exchange between the two, though it quickly died out when she saw her mother glaring at her from across the room, all but demanding her return to the high table.

"I suppose my absence from the high table has been noted. Again, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Myrcella curtsied and left the three to converse until it was time for Shireen to open her gifts.

[TSS]

The next day, Myrcella was at a loss for what to do, so she gathered Joy to find where Shireen had gone off to for the day.

It should have been a simple matter, but her usual lessons had been canceled for the remainder of the King's stay. Uncle Stannis was in talks with Lord Arryn, and both Breeze and Jon were preoccupied with their own duties. Father would still be abed until the afternoon, and Mother would not be much better.

Yes, she was making sure she would be unavailable for any further rebukes.

Without a proper means to locate Shireen, Myrcella and Joy took the opportunity to explore the castle. Even without the traditional decorations and trimmings kept by House Targaryen, the redoubt had an appeal all on its own. Stone blackened by soot and ash when it was pulled from the mountain slopes, it was striking in a terrible, haunting fashion.

Perhaps that was why the splash of gold caught her attention when they passed by the one of the smaller glass houses that kept some of the more sensitive flowers in the rugged landscape that Dragonstone sat on.

Stopping on the spot, Myrcella saw Shireen being cornered by Joffery. His hands were obscured, but the way

To her regret, slipping away from being smothered by her mother meant slipping away from her guard, and she couldn't be certain they wouldn't be convinced by Joffery's rank to ignore his behavior. She could only imagine what Joffery and Shireen had done to escape their own watchers.

"Please," Shireen pleaded, voice tight. "Give that back."

"Don't worry. I'm only making it look like you."

Myrcella pulled Joy aside and hissed her instructions as quickly as she could manage. "Go get my father or Lord Stannis. Quickly!"

Her handmaiden was off like a shot and Myrcella swept into the room and shrieked appropriately, rushing to pull Shireen away from Joffery and the defaced doll.

"Stay back, Joffery!" she screamed.

Before she could worry about her course of action, a pair of Uncle Stannis' men stormed into the glass house, weapons drawn. Both men looked at Joffery, and then the knife, and then to Shireen huddled protectively against Myrcella.

The guards' presence was enough to stall Joffery, preventing him from simply bolting, and he looked around, befuddled at what was happening. More to Myrcella's relief, Father came stomped into, Uncle Jaime at his heels.

"Crone's tits!" Father shouted. "What's happening here?!"

"He was going to take a knife to Shireen," said Myrcella, affecting as much of a terrified girl she could muster without overdoing it.

"Liar!" Joffery retorted. "I was not!"

Joffery's protests fell on deaf ears, however. His past misdeeds spoke well enough for themselves, the conclusion was easy enough to draw for anyone who wasn't looking beyond the surface.

"Enough of this!" Robert boomed. "You," he pointed to one of the guards. "Find Stannis and bring him here. I'll deal with Joffery."

The King drew his eldest to a room off to the side, and took a belt to his backside. Myrcella felt like she should feel awful for lying, but there was no guarantee what might flit through her brother's head, and it got the grown-ups to there to break things up properly, so instead of feeling guilty, she gently guided her cousin away from the ruckus and Joffery's shrieking. Shrieking that only magnified when Mother entered the hall.

Safely away from being dragged into the brewing argument between her parents, Myrcella holds Shireen close, rubbing soothing circles along her back, catching bits and pieces of the argument from afar. Cersei was furious at the chastisement rendered to her favorite, but Robert is already done, and Joffery runs crying into her skirts, stifling the conflict for the moment.

"Just keep to the story, and no one will question it," Myrcella whispered behind Shireen's ears.

They both look up as Uncle Stannis walked into the hall. He looks at Myrcella like she's a puzzle he can't quite figure out. He give a bow and takes Shireen off of her hands, leading her off to his solar.

Myrcella is largely confident that hers and Shireen's narrative remained uncontested and truth remained unknown, save for between them, though that confidence is stretched the next time Shireen visited King's Landing. She never told Shireen to keep silent, especially not to her own father, but he could have very well figured it out for himself. No matter the truth, Shireen now carried two dolls. One to replace the doll Joffery had defaced, just as it had been before by every line and stitch, and one with blonde curls and a pink dress.


A/N: Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. Revising it had taken a fair bit more effort than originally anticipated.I'm getting tired of it sitting on the hard drive, sohere we are.

Onto other matters, we get the origins of Breeze's nickname, and the introduction of some more of his family, even if indirectly in most cases. As Stannis is Lord of Dragonstone, and Bar Emmon is one of the Narrow Sea Houses that answer to him, it seemed an easy way to bring a couple of them into the narrative for Shireen's nameday. Also get some more examples of Myrcella's guile, as well as a glimpse at lengths she will go to protect those she cares for.

Next chapter will likely be from Jon's POV, and considerably closer to the start of canon events.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Spied a critical error that I missed with my eyes glazing over in the editing process? Let me know in a PM or review. Or better yet, take it to the Discord! Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Until next time!

Winterman, out.