𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙰 ° myrcella baratheon

SEVENTEEN

I was walking down the hall, my father by my side when we heard a voice come from behind us. "My lords." The two of us spun around and saw Maester Pycelle walking towards us, holding a piece of parchment in his hand. "I meant to give this to you earlier. So forgetful these days." He handed my father the scroll. "A raven from Winterfell this morning."

My father nodded, causing the old man to walk away. The man next to me rolled open the scroll, his eyes skimming the contents of the letter. Before I could ask, however, Lord Baelish appeared from down the hall. "Good news? Perhaps you'd like to share it with your wife?"

"My wife is in Winterfell." My father told him.

"Is she?"

The older man turned to face me, his expression telling me to leave and most likely go back to my chambers. I just shook my head. "I'm coming with you." I told him, lowering my voice as I continued. "I don't trust him."

Without another word, the sly man led me and my father out of the Red Keep and out into the town.

•~•

Littlefinger didn't stop until we were outside of a run down looking building, where there were men and women alike going in and out. I knew exactly what this was; it was a brothel. "I thought that she'd be safest in here. One of several such establishments I own." The man said as he started walking inside.

My father didn't seem amused as he pinned Lord Baelish against the wall, an arm across his throat. "You're a funny man. A very funny man."

Before he could say anything else, a very familiar voice called to my father from a window on the top story. "Ned!" We both looked up to see my mother with her head stuck out the window. A second later, she disappeared back inside the building.

My father immediately rushed inside of the brothel, myself right behind him as we left Littlefinger behind. We both rushed to the stairs, dodging around the women that threw themselves at us.

"Hey handsome." A lady said, stepping in front of me and placing a hand on my chest. "A scruffy fellow you are. You're northern, aren't you? High born?"

I sighed, watching as my father rounded a corner. Taking her hands off of me, I rushed around her. "Pardon me."

When I got upstairs, my parents were in a tight embrace. I sighed softly, happy to see my mother. She looked up over my father's shoulder and smiled at me, pulling away from the man and stepping my towards me. "My boy."

"Mother." I said, embracing her in a tight hug. We just stood there for a few moments before she pulled away, giving me a confused look. "What?"

She reached up and wiped my lips with her thumb. "You're red. And swollen. Have you been stealing a kiss or two from these southern girls?" The woman teased.

I chuckled lightly. "Maybe, maybe not." She laughed softly. "I missed you, mother."

"I missed you, too, my son."

"What are you doing here?" My father spoke up, causing myself and my mother to turn and face him.

The older woman sighed. "I have some...news."

I could sense the slight worry and fear in my mother's tone, causing me to furrow my brow. "Is everything alright mother? Is everything alright back home?" My features softened, realizing why she might be here. "Is Brandon alright?"

She nodded immediately. "He is just fine, thank the gods. I've come here on more serious matters." The woman paused, her eyes flickering over to me before back to my father. "I know who tried to murder our son."

I peeked up at this, standing a little straighter. "Who was it?"