Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
ASOIAF and all of its characters belong to GRRM
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 144: The Princess's Escape
The room was beautiful. That was the cruelest part.
Myrcella Baratheon sat on the window seat, her knees drawn to her chest, her green eyes fixed on the world beyond the bars.
The chamber was fit for a queen, with silk curtains, a feather bed, and several tapestries depicting the glories of House Lannister. Servants brought her meals three times a day. She had books to read, candles to light, a bath drawn whenever she wished.
But the windows were barred. The door was locked. And she had not left this room in two months.
'Two months,' she thought. 'Two months since they caught me at the docks. I had been so close to leaving. All of that time planning for naught.' Myrcella lamented her failure.
She remembered that night vividly. The cold wind off the bay, the smell of salt and fish, the sailor she had bribed with the last of her jewelry. She had been so close. So close to escaping. So close to reaching Meereen, to finding Joffrey, to warning him.
Then the Gold Cloaks arrived. Someone had recognized her and called for them.
They had dragged her back to the Red Keep, through the gates, past the guards, up the stairs to her mother's chambers. Cersei had been waiting. Her face had been a mask of fury.
"You tried to flee," Cersei had said, her voice cold. "You tried to betray your family."
"I was trying to save my brother from your malice!" Myrcella had replied.
The slap had sent her sprawling to the floor.
Since that night, she had been a prisoner in her own home. Two guards stood outside her door at all times. Her windows had been barred. Her possessions had been taken…her jewelry, her letters, her clothes.
Everything except the simplest gowns and the books she had already read a dozen times.
And then there was the necklace.
'The necklace,' Myrcella thought, her heart clenching. 'Joffrey's necklace.' This was the possession she lamented losing the most.
He had given it to her before he left Winterfell, when he had returned her and Tommen to King's Landing. A small crystal pendant on a silver chain, enchanted with magic she did not understand. "If you are ever in danger," he had said, "break it. It will take you to safety."
She had kept it hidden. She had worn it under her gowns, close to her heart, a secret comfort in the cold halls of the Red Keep. But her mother's guards had found it when they searched her chambers. They had taken it, along with everything else.
'I am alone,' Myrcella thought. 'I am trapped. And Joffrey does not know what is coming.'
Her mother had last visited her a week ago.
Cersei had swept into the room, her golden hair gleaming, her green eyes hard as emeralds. She had not sat. She had not offered comfort. She had simply stood there, looking down at her daughter as if she were a stranger.
"You have disappointed me, Myrcella," Cersei had said. "I expected better from you."
"You are planning to kill my brother," Myrcella had replied, her voice trembling but steady. "How could you expect anything else from me?"
"Joffrey is a traitor," Cersei had said. "He abandoned his family. He abandoned his kingdom. He joined our enemies. He deserves death."
"He saved us," Myrcella had said, tears stinging her eyes. "He saved Tommen and me. He kept us safe for two years while you did nothing. And you want to kill him for it?"
"Enough of this nonsense, Myrcella. Why can't you see the truth?. I want to protect this family," Cersei had said. "I want to protect you, and Tommen, and Gerion. Joffrey is a threat to everything we have built. He will destroy us if we do not stop him."
"You are the one who is making him your enemy. I heard you talking with Lord Greyjoy, plotting on building those weapons to kill the dragons. To kill Joffrey." She responded, feeling furious at her mother's attitude. Why was she like this?.
Cersei's face had twisted with rage. "You are a fool, Myrcella. A naive, foolish girl who cannot see the truth. Joffrey is not your brother. Not anymore. He is something else…something dangerous. And if you cannot see that, then you are as much a traitor as he is."
She had turned and walked out, leaving Myrcella alone with her tears.
Since then, no one had visited her. No one had spoken to her. The servants brought her food and took away her plates without a word.
The guards outside her door did not respond to her pleas. She was alone, truly alone, for the first time in her life.
'I should not have confronted her,' Myrcella thought. 'I should have pretended to agree. I should have waited for another chance. But I was so angry. So stupid.'
She looked out the window, at the city spread below her. King's Landing was beautiful from up here…a maze of rooftops and towers, of winding streets and busy markets. Somewhere down there, people were living their lives, unaware of the danger that loomed over them all.
'And Joffrey is out there somewhere,' she thought. 'In Meereen. Waiting for a warning that will never come.'
She closed her eyes, fighting back tears.
'I failed him. I failed my brother.'
"Hmm?" As she was looking outside the window, she spotted a strange black shape flying through the air. "A bird?...but it's all black. A crow?"
It was indeed a crow. She had not seen those since she left Winterfell. They were very rare in King's Landing.
But now there was one, and it was flying directly at her.
The bird landed on the windowsill, just beyond the bars, its dark eyes fixed on her face.
"Hello there," Myrcella smiled at the creature. "What are you doing here?. I'm sorry…I dont have any food for you."
The crow tilted its head. Then it spoke.
"Stark."
Myrcella froze. The voice was strange…rough and hollow, as if it were coming from somewhere far away. But it was a voice. A word. A name.
"Stark?" she repeated, her heart beginning to pound. "What... what do you mean?"
The crow hopped closer, its claws scraping against the stone. "Bran."
Myrcella's breath caught in her throat. Bran. Bran Stark. The boy who had been like a brother to her during her time in Winterfell. The boy who had disappeared north of the Wall.
"Bran Stark?" she whispered. "How... how do you know that name?"
The crow looked at her for a long moment. Then it spoke again.
"Bran. Stark. Outside."
Myrcella's heart stopped. "Outside? What do you mean, outside?"
The crow jumped up and down, as if it were nodding. "Outside. Outside."
She looked out the window, at the city below. It was impossible. It was insane. And yet... she had seen so many impossible things in her life.
"Are you saying that Bran Stark is here?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Outside the castle?"
The crow nodded again. "Bran. Outside."
Myrcella stared at the bird, her mind racing. Bran was supposed to be dead. He had disappeared beyond the Wall and had never been heard from again. And now a crow was telling her he was outside the Red Keep?
'This is madness,' she thought. 'I am dreaming. I must be dreaming.'
But the crow was real. The voice was real. And something in her heart told her that this was not a dream.
And it's not like she hasnt already seen many impossible things.
"But I cannot leave," she said, her voice breaking. "I am trapped here. My mother is keeping me prisoner."
The crow looked at her for a long moment. Then it spread its wings and flew away.
Myrcella watched it go, her heart sinking. She had been so close. So close to something; she did not know what. And now it was gone.
She lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
'Bran,' she thought. 'Could Bran really be alive…but why would he come here, to King's Landing?' If her mother heard there was a Stark near her castle, she would go mad with rage.
It was impossible. It made no sense, and yet, for the first time in months, she felt a flicker of hope.
<><>
She woke to darkness, hearing a tapping noise.
The room was cold, the candles having burned out hours ago. Myrcella blinked, trying to remember where she was. "Did I fall asleep?...oh, its night time already."
Then the sound came again…a sharp tapping against the window bars.
She sat up. The crow was back.
"Stark," it said. "Stark."
Myrcella rushed to the window. The crow was perched on the sill, something glinting in its claws.
"Bran. Outside."
"You are back, but I…" She looked closer. The glint was a key. A small iron key, held in the crow's talons.
"What..." she breathed. "Is that..."
The crow dropped the key into her hand. It was cold against her palm, real and solid.
"Outside," the crow said. "Outside."
Myrcella stared at the key, her heart pounding. "Is this... is this for my door?"
The crow nodded. "Outside."
She looked at the door. Then back at the key. Then back at the door.
'This is madness,' she thought.
But the key was real. The crow was real. And the door... the door was the only thing standing between her and freedom.
She crossed the room, her bare feet silent on the cold stone floor. She knelt before the door, her hands trembling, and slid the key into the lock.
It turned.
The door swung open.
Myrcella stared at the empty corridor beyond, her breath catching in her throat. There should have been guards. There were always guards. But the corridor was empty, the torches flickering in their sconces, the shadows dancing on the walls.
The crow landed on her shoulder, its claws gripping her gown.
"Outside," it said. "Outside."
Myrcella stepped into the corridor. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure the whole castle could hear it. But no one came. No one shouted. No one stopped her.
'Where are the guards?' she thought. 'Where is everyone?'
A sound made her freeze. A soft meow.
She looked down. A black cat sat in the middle of the corridor, its golden eyes fixed on her. It was a beautiful creature, sleek and graceful, and there was something in its gaze that was almost... human.
"Bran?" Myrcella whispered.
The cat nodded and moved its paw as if indicating her to get closer.
"Are you telling me to follow you?"
The cat nodded.
'This is insane,' Myrcella thought. 'Am I really going to follow a cat?. I have lost my mind.'
But she followed.
The cat led her through the corridors of the Red Keep, through passages she had never seen before, through doors hidden behind tapestries and walls that moved at a touch.
She saw no guards. She heard no footsteps. It was as if the castle had emptied itself, leaving only her and her strange guides.
They passed through a cellar, dark and damp, the smell of wine and old stone filling her nostrils. The cat tapped against the door, and she pushed it open. And just like that, Myrcella stepped out into the night air.
She was outside. She was actually outside.
The courtyard stretched before her, silent and empty. Beyond it, the city of King's Landing sprawled in the darkness, a sea of lights and shadows. And beyond that, the bay, the ships, the freedom she had been denied for so long.
But she was not alone.
Animals were gathered in the courtyard. Cats and dogs, mice and rats, birds and bats. They sat in silence, their eyes fixed on her, as if they had been waiting for her to arrive.
Myrcella stared at them, her heart pounding. "What... what is this?"
The crow landed on a low wall. "Stark," it said. "Stark."
The animals moved as one, flowing toward a section of the wall that bordered the cliff. Myrcella followed, her feet carrying her without thought.
The crow tapped its beak against the stone. "Stark."
Myrcella looked down. A rope was tied to one of the boulders, thick and sturdy, disappearing over the edge of the wall. Below, the cliff dropped away, down to the city streets far below.
"I cannot climb down there," she said, her voice trembling. "It is too dangerous. I am not a-"
The crow looked at her. "Outside."
Myrcella looked at the rope. Then at the castle behind her. Then at the city below.
'I will die if I fall,' she thought. 'But then again…what is it for me here if I stay? '
She grabbed the rope.
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