A Young Girl's Game Of Thrones (1-4) - fics I read

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Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death

Fandoms:

Game of Thrones (TV)A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. MartinA Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms幼女戦記 | Youjo Senki | Saga of Tanya the Evil (Anime)幼女戦記 | Youjo Senki | Saga of Tanya the Evil - Carlo Zen (Light Novels)

Relationships:

Cersei Lannister/Jaime LannisterCatelyn Tully Stark/Ned Stark

Characters:

Tanya von DegurechaffMyrcella BaratheonCersei LannisterNed StarkRobb StarkSansa StarkStannis BaratheonDavos SeaworthEdmure TullyPetyr BaelishBrienne of TarthLumMelisandre (A Song of Ice and Fire)Jaime LannisterTywin LannisterNestor RoyceArys Oakheart

Additional Tags:

Work In ProgressOriginally Posted ElsewhereReincarnationMisunderstandings

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English

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Published:2024-02-25Updated:2026-03-29Words:387,549Chapters:74/?Comments:1,602Kudos:3,568Bookmarks:863Hits:196,466

A Young Girl's Game of Thrones

Failninjaninja

Summary:

This is a Song of Ice and Fire / Tanya the Evil Crossover. Tanya is reborn as Myrcella Baratheon after dying in her second life. 1st Person for Tanya and 3rd person for everyone else's perspective. ASOIAF world will be slightly aged up in similar fashion as the TV series did, however in all other regards will be using book canon.

Final note: Light Novel Spoilers for Tanya the Evil in the first chapter.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

"She has his eyes," Jaime frowned.

It was only the three of them in the room. The Queen, her brother and Cersei's second-born child, Myrcella Baratheon. The Maester and the serving maids had all departed at her command. Her husband was still out hunting.

"She's yours; he hasn't spilled his revolting seed in me in years."

Jaime didn't look convinced but shrugged. Cersei loved her twin, her other half, but like many men he cared little for very young children. She considered it for the best as it meant he did not dote on his offspring and draw suspicion on them.

Truth be told it could have been Robert's, she was careful and the lech so terribly drunk he rarely recalled how Cersei emptied him but sometimes the brute just took her. Those rare occurrences she when that occurred, she took Moon Tea. She would not bear her husband a true born child.

The babe had certainly wailed more than her first child but she was small and already had a mop of blond hair. No, she had been careful, it couldn't be Robert's. It couldn't be, regardless of her eyes.

"And how are you feeling?" Her lover asked.

"Exhausted but glad it is done. She will be my little lioness."

Chapter 1

Being X had screwed me once again, I just didn't know how yet. This life was simply too good to be true. Sure, I was once again in the body of a girl, but not an orphan this time; in fact I was royalty! There was no hardship or depravation. Why was I here? I had been certain some terrible fate or oblivion would be what I had to look forward to upon my death.

Dying had been unpleasant enough and I had thought it but a prelude to what would occur next. Speaking of my death, it was a rather cruel irony.

I had no reason at all to fight so hard to protect the person I had been ordered to assassinate. The death of General Rudersdorf had been the entire purpose of me being with the convey. It soured my stomach as I remember how desperate I had been to make the defense look believable. The company I led had used our protective shells to literally body block the explosive formula and shots fire on the plane. I had underestimated how many Albion elites had been part of the assault and the wave of fire had torn apart my defenses. Had I been using my normal stratagems I would have dodged. I should have dodged. But I didn't, instead I let fear of my duplicitous mission being found out cause me to take a poor risk.

Occasionally I wonder if my heroics saved the very person I had been sent to kill. There was no way of knowing, as this was clearly a completely different world.

A world where I was a princess in the lap of luxury. The daughter of King Robert Baratheon the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm. Not to say that it was all good. I was clearly in a very technologically backward world. This version of reality didn't even have proper seasons! To say nothing of other joys of modern comfort. Toiletries, central air, and proper healthcare which were all beyond the grasp of this medieval society.

At least I was safe for the time being. My earliest years I had little memory of, I suspect it was all in jumbles fitting two lifetimes of memories into a tiny undeveloped brain. By three everything I knew had returned to me. Boredom was my biggest foe but soon was I was able to prove my precociousness and my education was accelerated. This new world was not completely unlike my first world's history. Similarities with medieval Europe were found all around. I did not stint in my studies. It's a virtue to learn whenever the opportunity presents itself.

The Seven Kingdoms, though really it was nine distinct realms and not seven, were under a relatively new dynasty. My father had overthrown the old mad King and the Targaryen family with it. During the rebellion said mad King was slain by uncle Jaime, earning him the moniker "Kingslayer." People looked down on him for this but he did what needed to be done. Just like I had originally been prepared to do what needed to be done about Rudersdorf. Much of the former royal family was slain including his son and two grandchildren. That was likely my deepest worry, if the Baratheon's were overthrown like the Targaryen's that would likely be my fate. What could a child, or even an adult woman do if confronted by men with blades and armor?

Very little. I could do more in a situation like that than most but wining such a conflict would be beyond me. I had two factors in my favor. One, is I am no stranger to war. I had no hesitancy to kill and that would likely surprise any would be assailant. I carried a small knife hidden on my person and knew exactly where to strike to end an attacker's life.

The second advantage was my abilities. Which were sadly quite pathetic compared to the power I wielded in my second life. I could still do some magic, this body had magic circuits and I could to a small extent replicate what I could do with a computation orb. Before their invention there had been those rare few who had the ability to manipulate reality around themselves without the aid of technology but it was so rare most thought it even a myth or an exaggerated story. There was as reason why the young were tested for magical ability, instead of just knowing they had it, it was because utilizing said ability was nearly impossible. Nearly. But not fully impossible and that is what I studied and tried to perfect.

Sadly, only to limited utility. The computation orb actualized phenomena by applying the appropriate amount of stimulus to the right location. It automatically calculated the appropriate amounts of mana needed with analog arithmetic and theoretically whatever it could do could be replicated by applying said formulas yourself. So much easier said than done.

To put it simply you would need to be an idiot savant or some type of super genius to reliably use formulas on the fly without an orb. But that wasn't the only problem. Either this body had very little mana available to it or something about this world resisted the use of magic. I theorized it was likely the latter as my body didn't feel much different than my second one. Which of course begged the question why I literally looked almost exactly like Tanya Degurechaff. It wasn't exact, likely due to enjoying all the food that I desired, but my facial features were alike. My eye color down to the exact shade of my second body. My hair the exact coloring. I mostly took after my mother but my eyes came from my father, the king. And yet the coincidence here didn't make sense. I just happened to be born into a family that could give me the features that I had in my past life? Ridiculous, I was being toyed with somehow and I couldn't understand the angle that Devil was playing.

Returning to the subject of the difficulties I faced with magic. I could mimic some of what a computation orb could do but only the most simple of feats. The first I tested was the typically passive protective film used in personal defense on the battlefield. It wasn't the more active defense shell which could stop high caliber rounds but I had hoped it would at least do something. And technically it did but the efficacy was laughable. It couldn't stop a fork using only slight pressure. Absurdly useless against an attack, wearing an extra layer of silk would do as much against a sword. Yet even using it exhausted me after only a short time.

I moved on from personal defense to other ideas. Explosive formulas were not something I wanted to experiment with but optical formulas might have some merit. They didn't. After days of trial and error I finally mastered being able to use it mentally. Again, to not much benefit. I couldn't do it fast which likely killed most of its utility then and there and secondly it had no punch. A normal optical formula was effectively a heat beam. The Republican mages were experts with it but even they likely couldn't make it work in the land of Westeros. I couldn't even heat water with it. If someone stood perfectly still and let me use it on them for a few minutes they might break out into a sweat. Maybe, if I had the energy to even keep it up that long, which I didn't.

I had initially been hesitant to attempt formulas that effected my brain but when I saw how much mana it took for even minimal modifications to reality I went ahead. Doping myself still worked, I could improve my reaction time and give myself intracerebral narcotics. It wasn't as effective as what I had used as Tanya but it did make a difference. My balance and reflexes were all heightened. With it I could juggle cutlery or throw a knife with great accuracy. I could even do gymnastic tricks without falling flat on my face. It did still exhaust me and it took a few moments to cast but I would take what I could get.

The other useful ability was to apply force on my own body in a direction. Flight was definitely out but I could jump higher than what was physically possible. I could also move sideways or slow my descent. This could help me get me away from an attacker or even turn the tables on them.

I of course told no one of what I could do. A trick up your sleeve isn't any good if everyone knows about it. Also, there were other considerations such as the church viewing magic as an abomination. Organized religion would always be something I would be wary of and I didn't want their attention and target on my back even if I had the protection of the crown.

Fortunately, the odds of me having to defend myself physically were low at the moment. The Seven Kingdoms is the strongest nation state in the world. Internally there was little love between various houses but none could challenge Robert. The man who raised him was his Hand and represented house Arryn of the Vale. His wife was Queen Cersei Lannister, daughter of the richest Lord and Warden of the West. He was good friends with the Lord of House Stark and ties of marriage bound the Tully's to Arryn and Stark. He himself was the initial Lord of the Storm Lands who were now ruled by my uncle Lord Renly. The only real enemies were House Greyjoy who had recently been crushed after their attempt at rebellion. Dorne and the Reach had sided with the Targaryen family and so could be sources of discontent but against the rest of the realm it was not feasible for them to rebel. Besides, the Martells and the Tyrells did not like each other as there was bad blood between their two lands throughout history.

The political situation was well in hand despite the fact my father is a drunken oaf who has no business running a department let alone a nation. As best I can tell, the only reason the realm had not significantly suffered under his rule is due to him not ruling. He left most of that up to his Small Council and the Hand Jon Arryn who was a capable manager. The Hand was very similar to that of a CEO selected by the Board of Directors, only in this case simply selected by the King. It was said that what the king dreams, the Hand of the King builds.

However, knew that wasn't the true secret to the realm's success. What truly kept the court running was my mother, Cersei Lannister. Most would not think so because they only saw the façade of the proud and beautiful queen. Likely that was precisely the way she wanted it. It even took me, someone with two lifetimes of experience and knowledge of the cutthroat world of corporate HR and the political machinations of the Empire's military system some time to piece things together.

My first clue was how my mother quickly sensed I did not like being mothered. Most would have taken it as an affront or sought to cling harder or maybe even begin to hate their child but not Cersei. She clearly saw that a typical overtly motherly love was not something I desired. Instead, she devoted her attentions to her first born and heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Such insight could only mean she had Emotional Intelligence far beyond the norm.

Early on in life I made it a habit to learn the names of my maids, servants, and guards. I would thank them and grace them with a smile. Remembering people's names is critical to professional success in leading others. By recalling people's names, it shows that you are interested in them and causes them to feel valued. It is a simple thing but one that can pay dividends in the future in loyalty.

The family, which meant my two siblings, my mother and uncle Jaime had sat down for a meal. A servant presented a dish and I thanked her. Cersei looked down the table at me with a fierce expression.

"Child, why do you bother addressing the servants so?"

At first, I thought I was being chastised for some social faux pas. My etiquette lessons with the Septa had not advised me that thanking servant was a social taboo. While others did not regularly do so it did seem to be wrong.

"I appreciate their hard work and diligence. Their efficiency is praiseworthy."

"It is not praiseworthy it is the bare minimum. Had they done any less they would be punished or cast out of our service." She countered.

This was shortsighted! While I agree that Machiavelli had some excellent points about it being better to be feared than loved this really didn't apply to menial roles. Before I could speak up in defense, I figured it out. Cersei, the master manipulator, and skilled political savant that she was could not possibly care how I treated the help. What she was doing was highlighting what I was doing. Now every servant in the room could see my actions and if I continued to do it later without my mother present it would be so much more meaningful to them! My stature and reputation among the serving class could only be enhanced by her calling out the behavior.

I inclined my head. "Forgive me mother, you are quite right. I see now."

Obviously, I saw through her subterfuge and she saw that I saw. That is why she graced me with a faint smile. Joffrey, my foolish brother, had snickered as if I was somehow in trouble or had lost face. No quite the opposite in fact. From that day on I continued to recognize the 'small folk' as it were and called them by name when I wasn't around the Queen. And they loved me even more for it.

With my family having things well in hand I wasn't terribly worried but I could not escape the paranoia that it would all come crashing down due to the vile machinations of Being X. He would fuck with me and turn the life of luxury into a charnel house. I just knew it. I had to be prepared. I would be prepared.

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Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death

Fandoms:

Relationships:

Cersei Lannister/Jaime LannisterCatelyn Tully Stark/Ned Stark

Characters:

Additional Tags:

Work In ProgressOriginally Posted ElsewhereReincarnationMisunderstandings

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2024-02-25Updated:2026-03-29Words:387,549Chapters:74/?Comments:1,602Kudos:3,568Bookmarks:863Hits:196,466

A Young Girl's Game of Thrones

Failninjaninja

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Tyrion Lannister did not know what to make of his only niece. On the surface Myrcella was a completely dutiful child, the perfect miniature lady who knew all her courtesies and never missed a single step. She was unfailingly polite and friendly with all around her, and that included him. She had never once looked down on him for his dwarfism, something that was a sad rarity.

"It is good to see you again uncle Tyrion." She said with a smile on her face. A smile that never reached her eyes. The girl had only just reached her ninth name day and Tyrion had been late in his attendance. A normal girl would be cross with him for missing the festivities. A normal girl may wonder if he had got her a present. Not Myrcella.

"Thank you dear, I am sorry that I missed your name day celebration."

"No pardon is necessary, there were many people there and I would much rather speak with you privately than in a crowd."

"And why is that?"

"Crowds are noisy and I must give each well-wisher their due, it does not allow for lengthy discussion."

"In that case I will endeavor to miss many more name days!" His voice growing more boisterous, something that delighted young Tommen but never changed Myrcella's expression, be she 4 or 9.

"That will not be necessary if you promise to visit like you are today."

"Always my dear. Now, aren't you curious what I've got for you?"

After a moment her smile widened a bit. He grinned at the mild response and told her to follow him. She stood and they left her rooms, followed by Ser Arys Oakheart, the Kingsguard watching over her today.

They made their way down to the royal stables where his gift was. A beautiful white palfrey awaited. The young princess had made mention of enjoying being on horseback as opposed to travelling in a wheelhouse. She had a pony but not a true horse. His niece thanked him and remarked on how wonderful of a gift it was. Her smile was there. But her eyes never changed.

He watched her as she fed the horse by hand under the stable master's guidance, bonding with the animal. Every move she made was proper, stately and when the horse whinnied, she was not started in the least.

"How are your studies going? Last we spoke you had already mastered more than most noble sons do by maturity."

"I enjoy reading and the concepts are fascinating. I fear Grand Maester Pycelle is growing tired of my requests for more texts from the Citadel."

"The old fool is rarely of any real help." Tyrion mocked.

"He is kind and a loyal friend to the family. May I ask a personal question uncle?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "By all means."

"Why do you war with mother so much, she's your sister you should be working together."

"We aren't at war sweetling, we just don't like each other."

Her smile was gone, her eyes unchanged.

"Why?"

Tyrion sighed. Should he share with his niece what a foul cunt her mother was? It didn't seem proper and likely it would just lead to more difficulties.

"Not everyone can get along with everyone. She doesn't like some of my hobbies. It is nothing to be alarmed about."

"Hobbies?"

Ser Arys shifted uncomfortably.

"I enjoy drinking and bedding whores." He said nonchalantly.

"I hope you are careful uncle as there are several different types of venereal diseases you can catch if you aren't cautious."

Tyrion blinked. Would nothing get a reaction from her? Before he could respond she continued right along.

"I don't think you are being truthful with me however for my sake could you try to be kinder to each other? Mother says family is more important than anything else and I agree with her. Knowing that you have lifelong allies who will never betray you is a boon."

Tyrion frowned. "You've read your histories, the Dance of Dragons, family is no sure shield."

"It can be and it behooves us to be united." Myrcella mounted the palfrey side saddle. "Mother doesn't allow me to roam out into the city but I believe I will take some time riding her here. She is an exquisite gift, thank you."

Tyrion watched her as she expertly guided the beast. She was a fine animal; he had paid quite the pretty penny for her. He had hoped for a greater reaction, it was maddening how the child never truly acted a child. That wasn't quite true, when she was very young, she acted not much different than others her age but after she had turned three Cersei had somehow transformed her into this perfect doll.

It bothered him that he had no idea what she had done to her. Had she terrified her? Had she threatened her? No that didn't make sense, she certainly never showed a shred of fear. The girl was also more intelligent than she had a right to be. Tyrion prided himself on his wits but her ability to understand accounting and even the mathematics that go into construction was uncanny. Yes, he learned it all as well, but not by nine!

In truth he thought it was a shame the Citadel did not allow women to study; her mind would likely run circles around them. He watched as she trotted the mare back and forth in the run.

"Ser, do you think Myrcella is happy?"

"My Lord?" He asked, caught off guard by the question.

"Never mind, an idle thought."

Tyrion wondered what match would be made for her. The Hand would likely push for a match with Highgarden or Dorne. Uniting all the realms by marriage. It worried him as Dorne was still enraged by the deaths of Elia and her children. It was a pity whoever she married would likely not appreciate the fine mind she possessed.

The run had ample room and as she turned back around toward the stable, she signaled the animal to go from a trot to a gallop. The stable master shouted for her to slow down but she ignored him. Tyrion's heart clenched, riding side saddle at a gallop was dangerous unless the rider was experienced. The only thing that stilled his tongue for a moment was the look of brief joy that finally reached her eyes as the wind caught her hair and she rode.

The stable master yelled loudly and rushed out trying to go for the reins. The spirited horse wasn't interested in being grabbed when her rider hadn't given a command yet. Myrcella's eyes focused again and she bid the palfrey to halt with a pull on the reins, the combination of the mount trying to dodge the man and then abruptly slowing down caused Myrcella to slip off.

Tyrion and Ser Arys cursed and rushed forward, only to see Myrcella twist in the air, land on her feet and then roll away from the horse who was now brought back under control by the now terrified stable master.

"Princess are you all, right?" Ser Arys longer legs had outpaced Tyrion's and got to her side first.

"Aside from my dress I'm perfectly fine." She looked at the three worried expressions.

"I am fine." She said more firmly. "I've fallen from a pony before, and have been taught how to do it properly."

Tyrion looked at her disbelieving. "Seven Hells Myrcella, I doubt someone taught you to tumble like that. A good way to break your neck!"

The poor Master of Horse apologized profusely but the Princess shook her head. "Jason, you have nothing to apologize for, and I would ask the three of you to not share with others my shame over having fallen from my mount. I would take it as a kindness."

Ser Arys. "I have vowed to defend your person and your honor. If you are truly unhurt this matter will never be spoken of again."

Tyrion knew she didn't care about the 'shame' of falling. She had done it so Jason the King's Master of Horse wouldn't have to face her mother's wrath. There was not a moment of hesitation, her mind had quickly seen the danger and acted to head it off. The grateful man was already bowing and promising to never speak a word of it to anyone.

"In the future Myrcella take things slower, you truly could have been injured."

"Yes, uncle you are right, it was my own eagerness that flew ahead of my good sense."

No change in her eyes. He was admonishing her but it didn't change her composure at all. Falling and rolling in the dirt did not change her composure either. The only time her eyes came alive was when she was galloping with the wind in her hair.

"I am a bit weary now, my thanks again Tyrion." She gave him a quick hug and Ser Arys followed her back to the Royal Apartments.

Tyrion Lannister looked on and then shook his head. He needed wine.

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Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Share Download

Work Header

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death

Fandoms:

Relationships:

Cersei Lannister/Jaime LannisterCatelyn Tully Stark/Ned Stark

Characters:

Additional Tags:

Work In ProgressOriginally Posted ElsewhereReincarnationMisunderstandings

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2024-02-25Updated:2026-03-29Words:387,549Chapters:74/?Comments:1,602Kudos:3,568Bookmarks:863Hits:196,466

A Young Girl's Game of Thrones

Failninjaninja

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

I hadn't made much progress on getting my uncle to bury the hatchet with my mother. It truly was a shame. Uncle Tyrion was akin to a highly qualified Subject Matter Expert who had no tact when dealing with the higher ups. He could have played a role in modernizing the mess that was Kings Landing, he could be a splendid advisor to his father or placed on the Small Council but instead he wasted all his energies. It truly was sad. If he kept it up my grandfather may choose someone else to inherit.

I suspect it was jealously, and I was familiar with the feeling. Especially when the enemies of the Empire had ample supplies while we made do with the bare minimum. The Eastern front had truly been unfair.

His sister's intellect and skill at maneuvering in social circles must have frustrated Tyrion so much. He prided himself on his wits as the one thing that made him great and to see a sibling with greater intellect as well as looks must be a bitter pill to swallow. As a result, Tyrion wasted so much time being spiteful with the Queen. Clearly Cersei was frustrated with his lack of ambition when he could be such a greater asset to the family. I suspected she engaged in the petty jabs just to try to motivate him to do something, anything with his life. Her strategy was sound but, in the end, you can bring a horse to water but you can't make it drink.

My other efforts to prepare for any potential disaster had borne some fruit. In several noble households the women did the accounting and figuring. Many of the male Lords and knights did not bother learning anything but how to ride and fight. Some pawned the duties off to their Maester or a Castellan but quite a few instead had their wives handle it. Under this premise I had asked for an allowance. I had even made a show of going out and spending some of it on new outfits or simple jewelry. Of course, I kept the bulk of it hidden away in my chambers. In the event I ever needed to flee the city I would have coin for provisions and bribes.

I had considered using some of it to invest in something but I needed to build my hidden nest egg first. Also, it just would not be practical to try any business dealings as a girl my age. And should the Baratheon royal family be cast down the city would likely be sacked and there went any local investment I made.

Not all my attempts met with success. I had hoped to form a relationship with some of the major players who ran my father's kingdom. I tried to meet with the Hand but Lord Arryn did not have time for me. My age and gender made things difficult to be taken seriously. My uncle Stannis was much the same. Uncle Renly did meet with me but for someone who sat on the Small Council as Master of Laws he really wasn't interested in discussing legal theory. He was personable but I don't think I made the impression I wanted. Alas I had no Silver Wings Assault Badge pinned on my dress proclaiming me as someone deserving of respect.

I did manage to meet with the Master of Whispers, Varys. He put on an air of affable mystery and was quite the conversationalist. It was interesting hearing him talk about his 'little birds' which was a clear euphemism for spies but he never did explain how they got their information. I questioned him about how frequently ravens were shot down and riders intercepted and he would only say more than we would like but less than one would think. I believed I made good impression on him but it wasn't like I was able to read someone like him.

Despite my missteps and lack of progress on making inroads to the movers and shakers of Kings Landing I was content. My personal security was elite and had a reputation for being honorable. My days were my own, to eat what I desired and read. Life truly was grand.

My general contentment was disturbed when my younger brother, Tommen, came into my room. His face was tear streaked. Great, I've always been terrible with kids. I read to Tommen bedtime stories occasionally to try to build some sibling bonds with him and was nice but I never understood how kids worked or what they needed. Now he was sobbing and had come to me.

"What is the matter little brother?"

"J-Joffrey, he, he." His sobs grew louder.

"Shh, its ok what did he do?" Over the years I had seen a disturbing trend in Joffrey. He was often cruel for no discernable reason.

"My fawn, he, he had it skinned. It was supposed to be my pet!"

I didn't really care about the animal; a fawn was a very odd choice for a pet anyway. But this was the perfect example of causing harm for no gain.

"I'm sorry Tommen, I'm sure we can get you another pet."

"He'll just kill it too! He hates me." More tears welled in his green eyes. "Why does he hate me?"

Ugh. I was so unequipped for this! I wanted to just hand this off to my mother to deal with.

"Your brother is going through changes and there is a substance in men when they start to become a man that leads to…" Yes, I tried to explain away Joffrey's cruelty and outright sadism as male puberty. Not my finest hour and Tommen didn't understand anyway.

Eventually blundering through the conversation, I somehow got him calmed down enough to deliver him to Cersei who must have mollified him somehow. After that painful experience, I needed to have some words with Joffrey and found him eating a meal in one of the private side rooms in the Royal Apartments with Sandor Clegane, his sworn shield. Sandor was a massive man with half his face burned off. Even among the elite of Westeros society he was tall. That was another odd thing about the Seven Kingdoms, there were an absurd amount of tall people. And despite my greater nutrition I was maybe a centimeter or two taller than I was in my second life by this age.

I approached. "Hello Joffrey, Sandor. May I join you?"

"No." Joffrey said directly. I sat down anyway.

"Are you deaf? I said no."

I stared at him. "Why do you torment our brother?"

Joffrey smirked. "He's a useless lump, it's fun getting him to run off weeping like a woman."

I continued to stare at him. "This is short sighted Joffrey. We are a family, we shouldn't be cruel to one another, mother has always taught us the only ones we can trust are each other. You need to stop."

Joffrey shook his head.

"I'm going to be king I can do what I want."

"Just like Aerys Targaryen, he thought he could do whatever he wanted because he was king."

Joffrey sat up straighter. "Are you threatening me sister?"

I was very tempted to do him some bodily harm. He had all the makings of becoming a Caligula. He could jeopardize my easy lifestyle with his antics. Not right now of course, not with his sworn shield staring at me. It would have to be later and in a way that wouldn't draw suspicion on me. Arranging an accident was tempting but altogether too risky and potentially destabilizing. I pushed those thoughts aside and stared and directly met his gaze and tried to reason with him.

"We all have different talents. Uncle Stannis knows the seas, I know my histories and you know how to fight." Well, that was a bit of a lie he was middling at best with the sword, though the other boys his age wisely let him win. "Kings are not all powerful, if they abuse their subjects, they will face disloyalty and rebellion. History is filled with examples; the Mad King was just the latest example."

"Then I'll kill the traitors."

"Even if we accept that you would be successful. The realm will bleed and it will destroy your tax base! Save your cruelty for enemies who deserve it, I promise you there will be many, and you will want your family at your side."

My brother's gaze drifted away from eye contact. "My father never worries about counting coppers and neither will I. Now leave you annoying wench."

One of the more frustrating conversations I've been a part of. It reminded me of our temporary victory when the Republicans faked their surrender and I couldn't make High Command see reason. Raging then had accomplished nothing and raging now would do the same. And yet I needed him to understand what he had done to Tommen was not acceptable.

"This will not happen again Joffrey."

The boy squirmed under my stare. "I will do what I want and you can't do anything to stop me. Maybe I'll skin the stupid horse the Imp got you next."

I just stared at him.

"Now LEAVE. Dog, get her away from here."

The Hound stood up from his chair and loomed over me.

I continued to stare at Joffrey. I had put Joffrey's sworn shield in an awkward position. Laying hands on me was dangerous for him, I was royalty. He was attempting to intimidate me into leaving on my own accord. That would not be happening.

"Its time to go Princess." He rasped, his voice sounding even more abrasive than normal. I of course ignored him and continued staring at my brother who was now practically flinching from my gaze.

"DRAG HER AWAY DOG!" He screeched.

Sandor gave a growl, partially of frustration and partially to scare me.

I merely continued to stare at the now red-faced Joffrey. My brother needed to know that his will was not sacrosanct. This was a lesson for him, while he may one day inherit the crown from our father, he was not in command of me now.

Joffrey slammed his fist on the table. "NOW!"

His shouting had caused a stir and Cersei came in with Ser Meryn Trant behind her.

"What is going on here?" She looked at the scene her green eyes flashing with irritation and surprise.

Ser Trant moved forward and Sandor backed away and returned to Joffrey's side with a scowl.

Joffrey was shaking. "She threatened me!"

Cersei looked at me and I shook my head. "Joffrey was acting foolish and I was advising him that tormenting Tommen was not a good idea. He requested I leave but I was not done speaking with him. He then ordered Clegane to drag me away."

The Queen's face maintained most of its composure. I said most, which meant my mother was quite angry. "Clegane, Trant, out."

"Your Grace" they intoned and left.

"Joffrey my brave and bold lion, save your roar for our enemies not your siblings."

"She refused to obey me and threatened me!"

Cersei looked at me. "Myrcella my lioness you only sought to protect your younger brother but you mustn't try to fight Joffrey, he is the heir to the Seven Kingdoms. If he tells you to leave his presence, I expect you to do so."

"As you command mother, shall I do so now?" On the surface this was quite unfair however I knew what the Queen did was rarely obvious. She was going to use this situation to make Joffrey be better in the future.

"Run along now we'll talk later."

I inclined my head left the room and closed it behind me. The Kingsguard and the Hound were a respectful distance away from the door but still guarding the hall.

"You're a fool Princess. He won't forget that." Sandor rasped.

"That was the point Sandor."

"You play a dangerous game." He snarled; voice low as he loomed over me for a second time.

"Enough." Ser Meryn said and physically interposed himself, again. Despite being outsized by the Hound by over half a foot Ser Meryn was unflappable and the Hound again was forced to back down.

There never was any real danger. The Hound would be beheaded if he tried to brawl with the Kingsguard or lay hands on me. His bark was worse than his bite. The mummery of the show was pure intimidation and it would not work.

All in all, it had been a good day. Joffrey had received the message I intended to send and I was certain my mother would reinforce it. Just as I was sure she had already settled Tommen down. Cersei kept the Seven Kingdoms in line, there was no doubt she could do the same for her own family!

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Published:2024-02-25Updated:2026-03-29Words:387,549Chapters:74/?Comments:1,602Kudos:3,568Bookmarks:863Hits:196,466

A Young Girl's Game of Thrones

Failninjaninja

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Father did love hosting tournaments. The excuse this time was Joffrey's fourteenth name day. As was his want, there would be generous prizes for the winners of the joust and melee. I looked forward to these events myself as I got to meet a great many knights and nobility. The joust itself was somewhat tame, it was hard to get excited about a sport you couldn't participate in. And nothing compared to flying over 300 kilometers an hour doped up on magic, facing life and death. I certainly did not miss risking my life. Absolutely not, but I could admit the adrenaline rush and the feeling of flying was an experience I greatly wished I could do again. The closet thing I had now was riding Flyta, one of the better gifts any of my family have given me.

Right now, I was attending the welcoming feast. I wish I had been sat closer to grandfather. Tywin Lannister, a formidable Lord who took his position seriously and had expertly navigated the rebellion and positioned House Lannister stronger than ever. In our past interactions he was polite but short and I would like to have a longer conversation with him.

I saw my father embarrass himself which was depressingly typical. Openly fondling the serving staff was both an insult to mother but also a violation to my modern sensibilities. One could not easily say no to the King so this was not at all consensual. What must Tywin Lannister think of his daughter's husband being so crass in the eyes of the entire court? It was fortunate the political climate was so stable or there could be trouble. Or maybe the realm had been desensitized due the last King's absolute insanity.

The tourney had some other guests I had not seen before. At one of the other tables Lord Walder Frey sat surrounded by many of his kin. It was honestly impressive that the man had survived into his 90s given the lack of modern medical care. A bit of surly fellow, technically I was kin to him by marriage. My Great Aunt Genna was married to his son Emmon Frey. Strangely enough the two had not come down from Casterly Rock to the tournament. Maybe the son did not like the father? A multitude of Walder's children, and grandchildren were competing in the lists this tournament.

I didn't have much of an opportunity to talk to anyone of note where I sat with Tommen and my cousin Shireen Baratheon. The girl was a year young than me and had been afflicted with a disease known as greyscale when she was a child that left her face scarred. She did not have the disease, it was just scarring from the disease she used to have, but that didn't cause people to be fearful of catching it. Tommen had shyly asked if I could switch seats so he didn't have to sit next to her which I had no issues with. He was young but really now, if she was contagious, did he think mother would allow her to be so close?

I tried to strike up conversation with her, she was the only child of Stannis Baratheon. Maybe if I got along well with the girl, I could get some face time with her father the Master of Ships.

"Shireen I'm so glad you were able to attend Joffrey's name day celebration. It feels like I never get to see you with you all the way in Dragonstone."

The girl looked up but didn't meet my gaze. "Father says I am safer away from the city."

I placed my hand on hers and she flinched. "Your father must love you very much to be so concerned about your safety but I do selfishly hope he relents and allows you to stay here. There aren't many girls my age that mother feels are of high enough station for me to spend time with."

"I, I would like that, Princess." She was unsure of herself, and a bit scared. Why was that? Maybe she was intimidated that I was the daughter of the King? She was the daughter of the King's brother so it shouldn't be that big of a deal.

On the other side of Shireen was a knight looking over and nodding with approval. The sigil he wore was a black ship with an onion on its sails. That would make him Ser Davos Seaworth, the once smuggler who helped resupply Storm's End. The man had lost joints on his hand as penalty for prior smuggling but had been granted knighthood and lands for saving Stannis and the garrison. This was a good trade all things considered. Going from a criminal with poor prospects to becoming part of the upper class was a brilliant upgrade.

I smile at her and suggest I meet with her on the morrow before the tourney begins and she agrees. There that was simple enough. I scanned for other newcomers. Ser Loras Tyrell, an up-and-coming jouster was present and sat next to Uncle Renly. Lord Arryn was a serious and stoic individual, though today he looked particularly grim. Strange how his eyes seem to wander to where I sat more than a few times. My appearance was impeccable and I was following all the social graces I was taught, why was he looking at me so frequently?

As the feast went from main entrée to dessert and I had my fill I escorted Tommen back to our rooms, the silent Kingsguard following behind.

***

The next morning, I ventured to the other side of the Royal Apartments in the keep to where Stannis housed his family when they were in the city. Some believed that the Kingsguard kept watch over us 24/7 and that wasn't accurate. It couldn't be given that there are only seven of them. When they could they did keep eyes on us but when the royal family was in different parts of the keep it wasn't a concern. There would always be one Kingsguard stationed outside of the King's chamber and one at the entrance of the Royal Apartments but beyond that it all depended where all the family happened to be.

A guardsmen announced me in to where Stannis, his wife Selyse and Shireen were breaking their fast.

"Good morning, Uncle Stannis."

Stannis must not be a morning person because he stared at me for a discomforting amount of time before replying. "Good morning, Myrcella."

I exchanged greetings with Selyse and then moved to Shireen ran my hand over her dress that she would be wearing to the joust. "What a beautiful dress, it shows off your house colors while still fitting in with the popular style. Who designed it?"

Shireen was caught off guard. "I'm not sure."

Selyse said, "The dress is actually a bit old, a happy coincidence that it fits the current fashion."

I felt Stannis's gaze on me. Lord Arryn yesterday and now Stannis? What was going on?

"Uncle you seem a bit different than last we met, is everything all right?"

"That remains to be seen. I have much to do today, excuse me." And with that he stiffly left the breakfast table. Selyse remained behind and asked me some questions about unimportant frivolities. I did my best to respond in ways to keep her engaged and try to also bring Shireen into the conversation but her mother didn't seem to want to include her. I believe I made a decent impression and so brought up the idea of Shireen staying in Kings Landing.

"I think not Princess Myrcella, not all in the court is as understanding as you about my daughter's shame."

"There is no shame in being the victim of illness, these things are very much not under our control, especially when we are swaddling babes."

"That matters not, a sin occurred and she was afflicted. I will not hide that fact."

Shireen seemed to shrink into herself with her mother's words. Internally I was furious.

"Sin? You believe the Seven is punishing your family? For what?" I tried to make it sound like a curiosity but some heat entered my voice.

Selyse paused. "No, not the Seven." She looked unsure of herself and then said. "Regardless we think it best that Shireen remain on Dragonstone."

And once again I had struck out. Not being able to use Shireen to get close to Stannis made this whole meeting moot. I wasn't one to give up though. As far as I know, there's no logic or reason that makes continued failure inevitable. I never give up. Mistakes simply need to be recovered from.

"If that is your decision, I will just have to make the most of Shireen's time here. Maybe we can share correspondence by raven from time to time?" Shireen nodded and mumbled something. Shireen would one day marry someone who would then inherit Dragonstone so being friends with her would still work to my benefit.

***

The first day of jousting was full of mismatches. The cream of the crop crushed the riders who were not their equal. Loras Tyrell, Jaime Lannister, and Barristan Selmy destroyed their opponents typically with just one pass. Other members of the Kingsguard did well but often it took two or three tilts to prove the victor. I could see Lord Frey spit in disgust when the last of his offspring were defeated fairly early in the day.

Shireen wasn't a great conversationalist but then again there were no knights from Dragonstone participating so perhaps she just didn't care much about the tourney. Several of the nobles also enjoyed their betting. This wasn't formalized but it was something her Uncle Tyrion did a lot of. Cersei herself would sometimes wager. Truly large sums would change hands tomorrow.

My Uncle Jaime was paired against Ser Selmy and Ser Loras was against Ser Meryn Trant. Tyrion made a large wager with Littlefinger over who would win the tournament and bet on his brother. I was tempted to throw in a few dragons out of family loyalty but I didn't have much of a reason to.

Another evening of feasting was a repeat of the first. Again, I felt the eyes of Lord Arryn and Uncle Stannis on me. While I didn't show my disquiet with it, their gazes were really starting to creep me out. This time instead of leaving when Tommen was ready, I stayed and waited for more guests to leave. When Lord Arryn went to retire and return to the Tower of the Hand I got up as well and followed. Once he left the feast hall and was in the corridor, I called out to him.

"My Lord Hand may I have a moment of your time."

He turned and looked at me in surprise. "Myrcella?"

"Is there some problem with me being friendly with Shireen?"

He seemed taken aback. "No child, why would you ask?"

"You sat with Lord Stannis and you kept looking at me. I just want to make sure I didn't do anything inappropriate."

His face was unreadable. "You have done nothing wrong and are completely blameless. My wife is with my son who was feeling poorly, if you'll excuse me."

That didn't explain anything at all! Why had he said I was completely blameless? That implied there was blame somewhere. Lord Arryn never did answer why I had drawn his eye in the first place, he had never had the slightest inclination of giving me the time of day in the past and now I was under his eye? Annoyed that I didn't have any answers I returned to my rooms. Tomorrow I would speak with mother and see if she had any insights.

***

Mother was fussing over Joffrey's clothes with a few servants when I came to her with my concern.

"Myrcella you are pretty girl who will likely grow into a woman of impressive beauty. Men will look at you and guess how soon your flowering will be. Then they will try to sell you to whatever Lord will gain them an advantage.

Shit! I had deliberately not been thinking about getting closer to puberty and marriageable age. Since I had not gone through puberty I didn't know if I would come to desire men as I desired women during my first life. Not that I ever acted on said desire with an actual woman. While I had lusts like any other and consumed JAVs in my teenage years I did not welcome personal relationships. Yes, I died a virgin.

They thinking about trying to marry me off to someone! Not good, I was far too young but of course betrothals were not marriages and they could last years. No need to panic.

"They aren't my parents, why should they get a say?"

Cersei looked at me with a pitying expression. "Don't worry sweetling, I have no intention of allowing you to be married off yet. But one day you will marry, not even I can stop that."

I swallowed heavily. Yeah, that was the purpose of daughters in a medieval society. Still, I had mother's promise that she would block whatever marriage may be in the works for me this early. Her explanation was plausible however it did not quite fit. A worry for another day.

"Mother, I was hoping to talk to grandfather while he was here. Could I join him for breakfast before he returns to Casterly Rock?"

"Probably not, however we will be going to visit Casterly Rock right after the tournament. He may have a few moments to spare with you on the journey."

I'd take what I could get. My attempts to network as a small female child were not progressing as I hoped. Tywin being the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands made him a powerful figure. His wealth, reputation and power were nearly unequaled save for my father the King and his Hand Jon Arryn. If I could get him to mentor me and look out for me, I would help secure my position in this world and from the machinations of Being X.

***

We took a stately pace to Casterly Rock. The mood was a little sour after Ser Loras had bested Uncle Jaime, Tyrion and Cersei had bet heavily on Jaime winning. The 'Knight of Flowers' did know how to ride extremely well, despite Jaime being taller and sturdier he could not win the tilt. They broke five pairs of lances but in the end the better rider won.

So much of medieval society focused on knights but it was mostly because the knights, or heavy cavalry, were so powerful on the field thanks to the bulk of the armies during times of war were conscripted peasants. A well-trained pike line or even some muddy terrain and archers would be enough to stop them as the French had learned at Agincourt.

The skills needed on the battlefield were likely quite different than was needed for these tournaments. I applauded the abilities of Ser Loras but never for a moment doubted in a real clash my uncle would slaughter him. He was wildly considered one of the most dangerous swords in the world now that Ser Selmy was getting on in years.

Warfare of my second life was not comparable to this world. Modern weaponry from guns, artillery and of course mages changed everything. Certain concepts on the battlefield were timeless. Encirclement, flanking, defeat-in-detail, and the importance of discipline. I don't envy battlefield commanders having to lead incompetent troops, what good would it be to know how to move your units into position if your commands got fumbled or the soldiers ran at the first sign of trouble. The many tactics and feints on the Eastern Front or even on the Rhine that Zettour had pulled off would simply not be possible in Westeros. I idly wonder how he would handle warfare in this primitive world.

Much of my family were within the large carriage, or wheelhouse as they called it here. Twyin and Jaime were riding and so this would be a good opportunity. Tywin had been the Hand to the old mad King and before he was dismissed when the King grew irrational, he had stewarded the realm well. In essence he was a retired CEO who was still on the Board of Directors. A priority to have in my corner for sure.

"Grandfather it is good to see you this morning."

Tywin glanced at me; his pale green eyes flecked with gold met my gaze.

"Myrcella." He spoke and then looked back down the road.

I rode beside him and waited for him to speak for a moment before pushing ahead.

"I've always admired you; I can think of no Lord more powerful and wise than you and hoped to learn how you became so successful." A little bit of flattery never hurt, all the better because it was true.

"What makes you think I care for the opinion of a child?" His voice had not changed in cadence or volume and yet it seemed to be filled with contempt. He didn't even look at me.

"I had not presumed as such but wished to convey why I was approaching grandfather. I have read the 'Lives of Four Kings' by Grand Maester Kaeth and found the lessons in it fascinating. It is good to learn from the past and yet I would argue that learning from someone face to face is superior than from texts."

"You remind me of Cersei when she was young." Excellent! I was making progress; his opinion was surely turning. Name dropping a book showcases my seriousness and scholarly attributes while placing his own perspective as superior to a famous work of history.

"Tell me child, do you also wish you had been born a boy?"

Huh? A bit flat footed I replied. "Well, yes," I was interrupted before I could continue.

"You weren't. You do not need to learn about how to rule. Pycelle writes to me about my grandchildren and he mentions your persistent pestering. You are a girl. You will not be a Maester, or a ruler. Your duty will be to marry who your family says to marry and then breed to secure the alliance."

Grand Maester Pycelle had complained about me? Was it my fault he took forever to send correspondence to the Citadel? That his own knowledge of higher order arithmetic was antiquated? I had been unfailingly polite, if persistent in my requests. And that made him try to ruin my reputation with the higher-ups?

My Uncle tried to step up, "Father I'm sure…" Twyin silenced him with a look.

Pycelle's sabotage aside, it dawned on me what was happening. I was an untrained junior in the workplace who had yet to prove themselves. I was trying to form a partnership with a senior proven executive without having paid my dues! No wonder he was contemptuous of my effort.

"I am nothing if not dutiful. Grandfather I can be more than just a chip to secure allegiances with marriage. Give me an opportunity to prove myself. You gave Tyrion an opportunity to improve the sewers and cisterns of Casterly Rock and it paid off, if you give me the opportunity to prove…"

His head whipped around and he glared. "Enough, no more of this foolishness."

Jaime gave me a pitying look. I wasn't sure what I said that drew that reaction but I somehow had stepped on a landmine.

"Very well grandfather, I will not take up anymore of your time." I was disappointed. The engrained gender roles of Westeros stymied my ability to make connections. My age didn't help matters either. Maybe I was going about this wrong. Instead of trying to make inroads with the powerful of today, should I try to focus my networking on the powerful of tomorrow?

***

Casterly Rock and Lannisport were run far better than Kings Landing. As the third largest city in the Seven Kingdoms is was a hub of trade. The wealth from the gold mines and the strong stewardship of my grandfather meant the Westerlands did not have the abject poverty amongst the lower classes that was routine for much of Kings Landing. Having more resources reduced privation. Naturally things could still be better. The archaic feudal system had people of ability and merit subservient to others simply due to stint of birth. Nepotism existed in my first life but it was far less pronounced and if you proved your loyalty to the company and did the work assigned to you diligently, you could retire and enjoy out your days worry free with all your needs met. This was rare for the small folk, even in the Westerlands.

Thankfully I was the scion of royalty and would not have that lamentable fate. I had hoped to try to form relationships with mother's side of the family. Unfortunately, by the second day a raven had reached us. Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King was deathly ill, unlikely to survive and we were to return to Kings Landing at once.

Turning right around made the trip out here a complete waste. Annoyance filled me, nothing productive at all occurred on this trip! More troubling was that Jon had been the Hand for the last sixteen years and had helped stabilizing the Seven Kingdoms during Robert's rule. Whoever filled his shoes had best be ready.

Mother hoped her husband would choose Uncle Jaime. I had never been very close to my uncle but he got along well with the rest of the family. Jaime's jests amused Tyrion and my siblings and he had an easy-going smile. I disliked his laxness as a member of the Kingsguard. He was part of the elite bodyguard unit tasked with ensuring the King and the King's family, me included, so I would have preferred if he jested less and guarded more. Laxness in small matters could quickly escalate.

Herbert Heinrich worked at an insurance company and had correctly put forth the idea that by disciplining and correcting missteps for small violations of safety you prevented larger accidents. His work, which I still remember from two lifetimes ago had so beautifully concluded with, "When a situation exists that creates loss of life, injury and suffering; when it costs a king's ransom annually, when its cure has been demonstrated to be practical; and when all are agreed that something can and should be done about it, it is time to stop talking, roll up the sleeves and go to work."

I of course shared with Uncle Jaime that he should be more focused on his duties instead and he had just tussled my hair and said I was perfectly safe. This kind of irreverent perspective of his core duties had shown his character. He would not make a good Hand. But of course, he also did everything his sister asked so likely this was mother's attempt to take an even greater role in shaping the political landscape. He just had to look imposing and regal while following her instructions and the realm would be safe and secure.

The decision would be the King's and there would be many vying for the honor. Certainly, his brothers would seek the position. He could even try to bring in a Tyrell to help further heal the wounds from the war. The Tyrells had been loyal to the mad King but once Kings Landing had been taken, they had been quick to kneel.

Mace Tyrell was the second richest Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and if he were brought into the fold, they could secure the bread basket of the Seven Kingdoms. None of these choices seemed bad in my eyes. Whoever was chosen I would attempt to ingratiate myself with any of their young kin and try to make them see me with fondness and respect. Favor with the one who was de facto ruler of the land could only help me.

***

We made it back in time to be part of the funeral ceremonies. Father was distraught and sober during the event. I paid my respects as was expected. I admired Lord Arryn for being the productive leader he had been. Sixteen years and only one war with the foolish Greyjoy's was good for a new dynasty.

Almost immediately after, the widow and the young heir to House Arryn left the capital suddenly. I regularly paid my maids and servants copper stars for gossip around the Red Keep and in the city of Kings Landing itself. They were quite scandalized as almost the entire Arryn household left in the dead of night. As much as I had been impressed with Jon Arryn's stewardship, I found his wife to be something of an embarrassment. She always seemed nervous and used powders to hide her lack of sleep. The way she mewled about her child was off putting in the rare conversation I had with her.

The King had then accounted that we were all to travel to the far North to see his friend Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. The young serving staff had all sorts of stories of the Northern 'barbarians.' Much of what they told me was superstitious silliness. They cavorted with giants, they said the Starks were skin changers and that they spent their days fighting the Wildlings up and down the Wall.

It really was silly how a house's sigil could start fanciful rumors. One of the Stark's vassals, the Umbers, had a coat of arms that depicted a giant in broken chains. Skin changers sounded like fairy tales, though given that I could do magic maybe there was some truth to old legends. It still seemed unlikely. Magical circuits creating localized phenomena did not physically alter the body and allow it to change form. The final rumor was also based in ignorance, the Starks had rallied the North on occasion to assist the Night's Watch in stopping Wildling invasions but that was rare and had not happened in my lifetime.

I suspect much of the rumors about the North had to do with differences in religion. The dominant religion in the majority of the Seven Kingdoms was the Faith of the Seven. In the North, they worshipped the Old Gods. A rather quaint religion that was ill defined and reminded me of some sort of combination of animism and ancient Celtic beliefs from my first life. It was far less stringent than the Faith of the Seven in its interference in day-to-day life. All religion was of course contemptable. Some caused less harm than others, and I viewed the North's 'Old God's' that way.

Eddard Stark did have a reputation for honor and competency. He had been fostered by Jon Arryn, though that alone meant little as so had my father and look how he turned out. Were tales of his honor true or were they influenced by good public relationship management? I didn't know but one thing was clear father was making this month or longer trek to the far North for a reason and not just a whim. The only logical assumption was to make Lord Stark Hand of the King.

Lord Stark had a healthy brood, five trueborn children ranged from 16 to 5 and one acknowledged bastard also at 16. The girls were closest to me in age, so that would be a good place to begin. If Lord Eddard Stark was to be the Hand than I would be his children's best friend.

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Chapter 1020 - A Young Girl's Game Of Thrones (1-4)