It Started With a Glance
"Love is many things none of them logical."
His heart lay frozen or so he thought until his gaze met a pair of brilliant green eyes that peered through the window.
"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger.
"I am hers and she is mine-
"I am his and he is mine-
"from this day to the end of my days."
"I belong beside you. Don’t send me away."
"If this is to be our end of days I want to spend them beside you."
With war brewing in the horizon, King Robert summons Ned Stark and his eldest son to King’s Landing to discuss battle strategies and certain arrangements.
While attending a council meeting with his father, Robb sees movement in the corner of eyes. He glances toward it only to catch sight of princess Myrcella peeking in through a window. Their gazes meet and Robb misses Robert motion Ned to follow him out the room. Instead he sees the princess grace him with an unbashful smile that has her brilliant green eyes echoing with mirth and even goes as far as to wave at him before disappearing out of sight.
In which Robb Stark has to fight in a war and is constantly being surprised by his princess bride, who decides to aid him and his father in battle by bringing knights and sellswords.
besshardwicks asked for 7 (accidental baby acquisition)
There were few things that scared Myrcella more than babies, sure they were adorable when placed on a blanket and gurgling up at you but the instant they were placed in her arms she was one hundred percent certain that she was going to drop them or break them or just make them cry somehow.
He’s heard she’s dangerous, the Baratheon Beauty; they say she’d just as soon shoot you as smile at you. They don’t lie. And yet, Robb Stark smiles at the tiny blonde standing in front of the mirror, putting lipstick on in her lingerie. He’s not worried; he’s got her under control.
She’s heard he’s reckless, the Stark’s Heir; they say he’s impulsive and undisciplined. She’s pretty sure they’re right on point. And yet, Myrcella Baratheon kisses him before leaving the hotel room, leaving him naked and smiling. She’s not worried, she’s got him right where she wants him.
Title: A Broken Kingdom
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones
Word Count: 352
Summary: The widowed Myrcella clings to her only thread of hope after the massacre of the Red Wedding.
They are not just Starks, they are wolves.
winginoverthings asked: can I ask for drunken shenanigans but with a double pairing? As in Arya and Gendry and Myrcella and Aegon because quartets are better than duos :D
(Of course, thank you for the prompt. And this lets me play with an idea that had been going through my head since all the Gendry/Arya school dance au appeared; so in this, Aegon and Arya are roommates in Art school - he’s a painter, she’s a dancer. I don’t know if this was what you wanted but I hope you like it)
The floor was full of empty bottles and cans from wine to beer, and at least one vodca bottle, spoils of celebrating Myrcella’s final exam of this semestre of Law School. She was lying on the couch making eyes at her boyfriend who tried to draw her one more, even if he was shit drunk.
"I wanna do something…" Arya yelled completelly plastered, all of the others snickered knowing she was the funniest when drunk and always wanted to do something, that for the last few times didn’t end well. "Pretty pwease…" She pleaded, hitting her elbow in Gendry’s eye, when she tried to get up from his lap.
She awkwardly moved around the room, turning to turn on the radio, unable to found the CD she wanted, she forsaked for some pop station.
"Beer…" She asked, while she tried to get her shirt off, staying only in her bra and jeans - Gendry thought about saying anything, but he knew she would only ignore him and keep undressing. He looked at the other couple in the room, but neither seemed to mind, knowing how Arya behaves. "Come dance…" She said, Gendry wondered if she meant him. "Yes, you, stupid." She yelled once again, reading his mind.
He stood up and met her in the improvised dancefloor, she was now only in panties and her bra. “Please tell me, you’re not taking off anything more in here.” He whispered.
"I’ll leave that for later." She said seductively, louder than she should, by Myrcella’s giggle, he supposed. It seemed Arya heard it too, moving back to the couch and pushing her to the dance floor.
So there they were, two young woman dancing - more like doing a pretty lousy job at standing straight - around each other and laughing to the most nonsense stuff. Gendry looked from the kitchen counter nursing on another beer, while Aegon just tried to capture the beauty of the sun and the moom, his love and his best friend, the light and the darkness, in another paper sheet of his well worned sketchbook.
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.
The morning had burst forth from the folds in the fog. Wisps of the night in the form of ghost-like apparitions sat on the frozen ground like heaps of smoke against the backdrop of a gray sky. Dew drops clung to the thin blades grass on the moor, leaving Myrcella’s skin damp and cold. She turned her head to the side and saw Robb still fast sleep. They had snuck out in the early hours of the morning, when the stars were hidden behind thick clouds with the hopes of watching the sunrise, to warm the land on the dawn of the new year.
Yet it was the heavy fog that had persisted as the minutes ticked by and slowly they found themselves falling back onto the cool grass, enjoying the silence of nature as the world moved beneath their bodies, turning endlessly. And as quietly as the fog, Myrcella leaned forward and fitted her lips over his. His reaction at first was muted and then she felt a slow grin stretch across his lips.
“What I would give to wake up each morning just like that…” he mumbled as the fog settled over them and the morning crept by.
- a prelude to This Funny Thing Called Love (a Robb & Myrcella Drabble Collection).
Coming January 2014
Modern AU | Myrcella Baratheon, daughter of the the biggest business tycoon in London, is somewhat of a wild child. After her mother’s constant complaints that she be tamed, her father sends her to New York to work for the company his best friend built. Winterfell Industries is now run by Ned Stark’s eldest son, Robb. Myrcella finds the job easy, but finds not falling for her boss to be quite the challenge.
I’ll be with you girl, Like being low. Hey like being stoned.
Modern AU - Gendry and Arya meet, and get up to some not so legal activities
Her feet were aching so much that she was almost of a thought to sit down and never get back up. Her belly ached for food and her throat burned for water or ale or even wine. She was cold at night and hot during the day as they travelled. She missed home. She missed Winterfell. Arya supposed that…