He was glad that she was talking to him. He hated to admit to it but there was hardly nothing he would do to get himself liked. He wanted that above most things really, acceptance, to know that you have people there for you, rooting you on someplace. That’s what he wanted. But he hardly ever had it. Robb did, Robb knew how that felt. Sometimes he was jealous of him, jealous of how well liked and loved he was. He could never be like that.
He smiled a little and shook his head. He gave the teacher a quick glance to see if they would get into trouble for talking but he seemed far too into whatever book he was reading to care. So still wearing his easy smile he turned back to look at Myrcella.
"I just wanted to be alone." he said, shrugging as his smile died. He looked away from her and down at his desk. "Sometimes I hate the people here." he muttered within a dry and forced scoff.
She gave him a half smile though he wasn’t looking at her anymore “Some times I hate people, period.” she almost chuckled at her own words but thought it better to keep quiet “My uncle says everyone hates their life at one point or another, or at least that what he told me when I talked to him about this…” she sighed “According to him, even those who seem to have no problems at all still hate their life some times, even if their reasons would be considered silly by others more unfortunate… I didn’t believe it much, till I realized that actually happens in my life all the time… You’re an example of just that, you thought my life was perfect, but in truth I hate my life some times. That being said, maybe everyone is like this…we all hate our lives and think the others got it easier.” she leaned on the desk, resting her chin on her palm as she stared outside the window.
"Tell me" she started, looking back to him "if you could ask for one thing, but one thing only, what would you ask for?" she looked at him, remembering her uncle’s method of calming her.
He wanted to offer her something as a husband should offer his wife. He knew that if she was lonely it was his duty to make it up to her. He was going to say she could have books sailed in, to occupy her mind. But his mouth would not open. He sat there merely listening to her words. He had thought for a brief moment that he ought to be to her the sort of husband his father had not been to his mother. That he ought to treat her kindly. But that thought shamed him into silence perhaps.
So he ate in silence for a while. He didn’t feel much like talking to her. She looked grown up today in that dress and with the dim lighting but she was not. She was hardly a woman and her next question proved that much, proved that she was nothing but a small child with constant questions. He smirked a little as if she should know the answer to such things already and then reached for his wine.
"I intend on being away as long as the raid will take, little princess. Do you know nothing of war? Even with Robert Baratheon as your father? The sail shall be long, yes, and the North is very large and well fortified. I plan on being away a very long time. But do not worry about it. Worry about your duty and I shall worry about mine." he said, tilting the cup a little towards her before bringing it to his lips for a drink.
She had to bite her tongue to keep quiet as he spoke, narrowing her eyes at his mockery. It wasn’t her fault she knew so little, up until now he hadn’t even told her what he’d be doing or where. Sure she could guess he’d be in the north, but only now she knew it’d be a raid. Besides, she was starting to hate the way he’d call her little, even if only because he only used it when he’d be mocking her.
"Is it not a wife’s duty to worry for her husband?" she managed to ask, her voice calm even if she was not. "To care for her husband, raise the children, provide heirs" she started reciting, though in her mind she was scoffing at how limited those duties were "and I must remind you, the last of those things is not something the wife could do on her own, she needs her husband with her in order to become with child." It was easier to speak of it that way, as if it were an hypothetical couple she spoke of and not them, in a near future. "If the husband leaves before the wife is with child and takes too long to return, the wife can do nothing other than sit around waiting for his return. Meanwhile there is no heir, and should the husband fail to return all is lost." Should that happen she’d be a widow, stuck in these grey islands and probably at risk of being passed over to the next Greyjoy in line, or even worse his father. She’d rather not risk that future at all.
"So you see my lord" she continued, lifting her glass to her lips to take a sip of the wine "By asking you these things I am doing my duty.” she was silent for only a moment before adding “And if I may recall, one of the husband’s duties is to get his wife with child, so if the scenario I have just mentioned were to happen, it’d be as much your fault as mine. It will be your duty as a husband to have heirs, therefore, by focusing on other things while that is not done will mean you failed or neglected your duty.” she knew her words may have been harsh, but then again so was her fury for the way he mocked her and failed to take her seriously.
He listened to her story in silence, unsure of how to react to any of it. He watched the shadows of the fire flickering over her small face, over the scar now that she had mentioned. It was strange how much different he was now. A long time ago when he had been that boy she now spoke of he would have noticed the scar. But he did not now. It did little to mar her beauty in his eyes. He wondered if she knew that, wondered if she felt the same way about it as he felt about himself, the ugly thing he had become.
And when she finished it with an apology he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know even how to open his mouth to speak. He had tears in his eyes, he realized. His hands that were folded on his stomach were trembling a bit, and her touch made the tremor and tears worse, it made him want to break right there suddenly. As if he wasn’t already broken enough.
Letting out a heavy sigh he slowly sat up. He hated how he moved now. So slow and tense. Like an old man. He was still young enough but he did not look it, above all he did not feel it. For the longest time he stayed with his back to her, staring at the blurry flames as his tears fell hot onto his skin. He had no words to say, nothing. But he knew he couldn’t leave her in silence. He did not want her to think that he held it against her. Truthfully she had every right to judge him after all he had done and become.
"You don’t ever have to apologize to me, Myrcella. Not for anything then or now. I could never hold that against you. I couldn’t." he said in a hoarse low voice. "But I am sorry about Dorne. You deserved better. Maybe you might’ve been happier there." Instead of her cruel fate here in Casterly Rock with the horrid creature he was. Was what he wanted to say. But he left it out, knowing she would do nothing but argue.
She stared at his back while he cried, forcing herself not to reach out to him, to let him have his space. She wanted to pull him back though, to remind him for the hundredth time that he didn’t need to hide from her.
"Maybe I don’t, and maybe you couldn’t" she murmured, starring at the back of his head "but I wanted to apologize anyway…" she trailed off, scooting closer to him till she was leaning against his back, hugging her knees as she murmured "And I don’t think you’re right about Dorne."
"Perhaps if I had never gotten the scar, things would have stayed perfect, but that is just the thing. Simply because things seemed perfect, it didn’t mean they were. I was simply blind, unaware that those around me cared so little for me that a simple scar could ruin it." she hoped he understood her reasoning. "It wasn’t an easy path, but it brought me here, and I’m happy to be here. I like to see the smiles from my little cousins, even if they always hide them, in fear it’d be seen as disrespectful. I like to see the land begin to prosper once more now that the war is over…I enjoy being a queen after all." she smiled to herself "And the only thing I missed, which was a friend I could talk to, well, now I have one." she kissed his back lightly "I’m happy here, Theon, with you I’m happier now" she rested her head against his spine "Dorne can rot under the sun if it so pleases." she smiled.
He udnerstood her urge to leave completely. When he had first started to dwell openly among humans he had been anxious and scared, afraid he might just simply lose control. That he couldn’t contain himself. But he had learned. Because he had hated the darkness. It reminded too much of the Dreadfort and all the terrors that had happened there. He wanted the light even if it was the yellow artifical one. He wanted some way out of the darkness.
He moved with her slowly, knowing that he would later have to explain her presence to the people in charge of the hotel. It was a highly respectable establishment and he knew they would not approve of him bringing girls into his room. He felt that he might be able to think of reasonable enough excuses.
"It gets easier over time, Myrcella, you’ll find that it does." he whispered down to her in what he hoped would be a comforting tone as he lead her up the stairs. He found his room door and unlocked it.
It was an elaborate room with heavy drapes and a large canopy bed. Gold and red, they still stayed true to the Lannister colors after all this time. But some rooms were made for other houses as well. Baratheon, Stark…he wondered if Myrcella would be shocked to hear such.
"I’ll have a tailor come and make you some dresses tomorrow evening." he said, shutting the door. "I hope you’ll be able to get used to them. You would look lovely in todays fashion." he said, offering her a small reassuring smile.
She followed him into the room, letting go of his arm once they were inside, pacing the large room. Though the details had changed, the style of the room seemed to still resemble that of her time. She sat on the edge of the large bed, closing her eyes for a moment at the softness of the mattress, she laid back on it, her arms stretched above her head while her feet dangled on on the side of it. She had missed the comfort of a proper bed, though the coffin she had been buried in was luxurious, with red velvet cushioning on the inside, it had still been a small space, cramped and the cushions had become hard and slightly uncomfortable with time.
She giggled softly despite herself, enjoying the simplicity of stretching on the soft mattress for a moment before turning her head to face him. “Thank you, for everything.” she smiled before sitting up “I really mean it.”
She got up to take a look at the rest of the room, there wasn’t much, a table with two chairs, a wardrobe, the places on the walls were once there’d be space to rest a candle now glass globes with that artificial light, she’d need to ask him about that later, what it was and how it worked. Moving beyond the dressing screen she found a porcelain bath, with metal pipes that emerged from the wall to the tub. “Does these pipes mean the water comes straight to the bath?” she called back to him, kneeling to study the metalwork, wondering wether there was enough time for her to bath before sunrise. Which reminded her of another matter…
"Theon…" she walked back to the main room "We’ll be sleeping together on the bed right?" she glanced at the soft mattress nervously "Are we a couple now?" it was odd to think on it. She just felt so close to him, had felt so ever since she first fed from him, yet it wasn’t clear what their relationship was.
In all honesty he hardly remembered much of anything. But he decided that he should just play along. What harm could it do anyways? He let out a laugh and fell off of her, turning more comfortably onto his side to face her. “Yeah.” he said, reaching out his hand and placing it on her stomach. “You’re awful to me all the time. You make me feel terrible about myself.”
"Poor little you" she cooed mockingly "to suffer my company completely against your will" she smiled, turning her face to face him How terrible? Hopefully not too much so that I can’t kiss it better." she chuckled "Since we’re talking about things that are my fault, didn’t you have somewhere to go? I have a faint memory of you mentioning a need to go to class, before I was a terrible person and distracted you" she grinned at him.
I wasn’t sure if I’d do something for today, but I had insomnia…
Same as my other one, this is not meant to be historically correct, but it’s a bit of a Venice Carnival scenario. Could be in a au Westeros, but with the clothing style of that kind of event.
O////O thank you so much!!! >////<
tbh I sort of lost count of how many times I rewrote that, the first version was actually really sad and she didn’t love or like him at all(actually first version Robb was way too ooc, cause he was ignoring her situation and was far too cruel in a way…), luckily I reminded myself that wasn’t right and that I was just pouring my own frustration and stress about college into the story, so I fixed…idk how many times, but I fixed it >////<
After a lot of doubt on wether I’d post this or not, here it is my contribution to the Robbcella week with the “Forbidden fruit” prompt. This is not meant as historically accurate, but it’s supposed to be around 1895 (I was doing a work about Art Déco, specifically Mucha’s work, so his work was my inspiration)
Hope you guys like it!
I miss you guys D; (currently hugging my phone and rolling in bed with it). Ughhhhhh I want to come baaack but college won’t let meeee
*snuggles all of you as I blabber incoherently in my sleep deprived state*
((And bless phones with spell check))
Send me a quote from my character’s canon and they will share EXACTLY what went through their minds when they said it, and how they currently feel about it.
1589/ Because Tommen and Myrcella prove you can trump both nature and nurture, and turn out all right even if your biological parents are siblings, your mother is Cersei and your “father” is Robert Baratheon.
Submitted by miss-m-calling
He let out a heavy sigh as he leaned on his desk. He was listening, of course he was. He had listened earlier at lunch as well, hadn’t he? But had he honestly been sorry? He supposed that in a way he had been, truly and honestly sorry about it. But she wouldn’t accept that and he wasn’t going to go and beg her either. Even if he did feel sorta bad about it.
Turning to look at her finally he rested his cheek against his hand as his eyes went over her face. “You don’t think I’m really sorry about it? You think that I meant that as an insult but I didn’t. But I’m not going to beg you to get me.” he said with a nonchalant shrug. But he wasn’t really nonchalant. Because maybe a part of him did like her, enjoy her company, too. And maybe he was just jealous, maybe because she was one of the rare people that made him feel slightly insecure about himself. But she didn’t do that on purpose, she wasn’t even aware of it. She was just different, so different from everyone else. But he liked her. Liked her a lot. “So I’ll just be quiet for the rest of this hour if you like.”
She pursed her lips for a moment, deciding wether or not he was lying about his thoughts until she realized, it didn’t matter. If he had lied about being sorry, if he meant it as an insult, it didn’t matter, he was still the only one around even trying to get her point in some way. Maybe he meant it, maybe he didn’t, but he tried.
She sighed before turning her head to face him, arms still crossed over her chest “You don’t have to be quiet…just don’t make comments like that…” she pouted slightly “Even if you didn’t mean it as an insult, it still sounds bad, so don’t say stuff like that…Besides, if I left, who would hear you complain that your life sucks?” she tried to joke. So far she had complained more than he had, but perhaps that meant that it was just about time he told more about himself. “So, will you tell me why you were sitting alone at lunch or is it still a secret?”
She entered the room and there was something different about her, he noticed that right away. He noticed the outline of her figure in the thick black material of her gown, how it seemed she must’ve done some growing in their time apart. Seemed like it had done her good and ti was more than simply pleasant to look at her. He smiled a little as she entered the room, as she came to him. He tried to hold back a laugh when she started to move the place setting to be nearer to him. He watched her with a restrained smirk as she set it up again, wondering if she often asked so childishly in the Red Keep. If her mother would allow such behavior.
But then she spoke and he lifted his eyes to her face, his eyes going over her at her question. He had already noticed it. Yet he would not tell her such. He offered her something of a smile, a small remnant of his amused smirk. “You look lovely, Myrcella.” he said, giving her a nod. He had been impressed by her, by the darker colors and how they created such a nice contrast next to her pale skin and her gold hair.
Reaching out he placed his hand on her arm. “Now, please do sit.” he said. The lightness she had brought with her was strange to him here, especially in such a damp place as Pyke, where talk of war and the Old Way was the only talk, when a storm felt to be looming over head at all hours. Her lightness felt almost like a disruption and he found it difficult for him to even think of her as his queen. But she had the strong blood of Baratheon and Lannister so lightness could not be all there was to her. And she had proved to be quite intelligent for her age as well and, yes, he had to admit, that especially tonight she was lovely.
"And I have been well." he replied to her earlier question with a small nod. "Been planning with my father, for when I should sail." He stopped himself short, knowing that war was definitely not a womans concern. "And how have you been?"
She smiled at his comment before taking her seat, happy to have made him smile even if only a little. She looked up at his answer, nodding at his words until he spoke of his plans to sail. She knew it would happen, but she still didn’t want him to leave her alone. Perhaps she should try and make friends, but from what she had heard his father would be the only family member who would remain in Pyke. She’d either have to learn how to agree with him or befriend the serving girls.
"I have been well, though a bit lonely I must admit" she smiled weakly "I’m not used to so much silence, the Red Keep was always so full and bursting with life, it’s odd not to keep bumping into familiar faces." she hoped her words didn’t sound petty, she meant no harm with them, it was the simple truth. "I wish I had more books here, perhaps those could keep my mind occupied, other than that I have just been walking around, getting to know the towers." she smiled at him before returning her attention to the plate before her.
They ate in silence for a moment before she looked up at him, hoping he’d not think badly of her for asking “What are the plans for when you sail? Will you be away for long?” she felt like a small child asking these things, but it was too unfair to have no chance to properly know him before he had to leave. “Are you going very far?” she kept her posture straight, trying to seem older as she spoke, perhaps he wouldn’t laugh at her if she looked older…
She hated him for killing her brothers. Hated. And Myrcella had never grown up hating anything. It was a strangely singular experience for her, especially given that when she’d been younger she’d loved this same man. And now, she was to marry him, in the hopes that their union would hold the splintering realm together.
She could see in his eyes that he wanted nothing to do with her. He wanted peace, or Winterfell, or his father, but not her. How strange, not to be wanted. Sansa said she’d grow used to it, and she supposed Sansa would know, but Myrcella was unaccustomed to such a concept. She was supposed to be wed to Trystane, who’d wanted her ever since he’d seen her, not this cold Lord of Winterfell. And yet that was her lot.
But time melts even the coldest of hearts, and when the Long Winter faded away, there was warmth in her husband’s eyes.