THE NORTHERN CRUSADE

THE SOUTHERN PRINCESS

300 AC

THE RIVERLANDS

RIVERRUN

MYRCELLA BARATHEON

It had been months, since she was captured by the Stark forces.

Before the war started, she had lived a comfortable if not a sheltered life. Her mother was too overprotective to let her join in any of the southern politics. It hadn't mattered to her, she was too young to understand the complicated politics of the court anyway.

But that didn't mean, she hadn't had any work to do, just because she was the princess of the Seven Kingdoms, of course not. Being the grand-daughter of Tywin Lannister means perfection.

And perfect she was. She excelled in everything, from her needlework to her studies under Grand Maester Pycelle.

She was also good at making friends. Befrending many of the young highborn ladies of the court. Her most recent friend was Lady Sansa, whom she befriended in Winterfell, when her father asked Lord Eddard to became his Hand Of The King.

Thinking of Winterfell, always filled her with a feeling of sadness and longing. She remembered being nervous, when she heard about going to The North. Her mother always ranted how the North is a frozen Wasteland filled with wildlings and that the Starks are nothing more than savages.

It always filled with her with fear, which only increased after they crossed the huge fortress of Moat Cailin.

But her fear were unfounded when she saw the North for the first time. While most of the North was barren, it has some sort of harsh beauty to it. And they men of the North we're warm-hearted more so than the men of the South. They were straightforward and had a loathing for southern politics. Something Myrcella was grateful for, after spending a lifetime in court.

Then they arrived at Wintercity and Winterfell. It was the single most magnificent place she had ever seen. Winterfell alone is bigger than the Red Keep and half of King's Landing. And the beauty of Wintercity cannot be described in words.

Even though the City had a population of 100,000 people. It was clean and stench free, unlike the streets of Kings Landing. And the residents of the city were well all behaved, welcoming their King and his routine as they, marched through the heart of The North.

Then she met him. Robb Stark, tall, broad and Handsome, who grinned down at her, pressing a kiss to her knuckle, as he welcomed her to his home.

Myrcella had realised that it was the first time, that she had been stumped into silence, doing nothing but starting at the Stark heir with a blush on her face. She was stunned so much, that her mother had to literally drag her out of the courtyard.

The days she spent at Winterfell we're some of the best days of her life. Robb was courteous, giving her tour of Winterfell, showing her the Glass Gardens, the immense Library, and the Hot springs of the Godswood. And like a lovesick puppy she stuck to him always accompanying him wherever she went.

She remembered, that her father had planned planned to betroth her to Robb, to join House Baratheon and Stark through marriage.

It had filled her with excitement and happiness, as she dreamt of marrying Robb in the Godswood, of giving him healthy sons and daughters, and both of them ruling Winterfell and The North, side by side.

But her good dreams were promptly shattered by her mother, who raged and screamed at father, accusing him of selling her daughter like a livestock, never asking her if she wants the marriage or not.