The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Carrion Crows

Since her brother had left, Morganna had felt that something was off. It wasn't a particularly noticeable feeling, but she was on edge and had little to no idea why. 

She had written to her mother, as Ren had asked her to, telling the woman that he was coming north. She also spoke of her uncle's injury, and the circumstances in which it happened. Lord Stark had taken six days and seven nights to wake up, once the Maester lowered his dosage of milk of the poppy. Morganna had thought then that they would soon all be leaving for Winterfell, as Ren had said they would, but upon visiting her uncle the first time he was conscious, he had informed her, Sansa and Arya that he was Hand of the King once more. Robert apparently didn't hold a grudge towards his old friend for very long, nor, by the looks of things, did he wait around for the man to get better, going hunting the very morning after reinstating his Hand. 

Two days later, her uncle had summoned the three of them to his solar, explaining that they were soon going to be travelling back north by sea. This confused Morganna; why would they be leaving if he was still Hand? She was also rather annoyed, as although she missed her family in Winterfell and the Dreadfort, she liked being in King's Landing, and would miss Myrcella when she was gone. Arya seemed pleased by the decision once her father assured her that she could bring her dancing master with her. Sansa on the other hand, was furious. Somewhere in between her protests and whining about wanting to marry Joffrey, her father seemed to come to some sort of realisation and cut her off, sending them all away without explanation. 

Just over two weeks passed. To everyone's surprise, the king's party returned early, unusual for Robert, who, according to Myrcella, liked to spend as much time away from the city as possible. It was not the triumphant return that was expected, despite the enormous dead boar that was carried between two horses. 

Morganna didn't find out until later that day that the king was dying. He had received a mortal wound fighting the boar, her uncle explained to them, and would be dead by morning. Lord Stark also said that they would be leaving at noon the next day, by ship, so to finish any packing they might have and be ready to go on time. 

Morganna awoke that day to the sounds of Lannister men drilling in the yard. Arya begged her father to let her have a final dancing lesson before they left, and Lord Stark gave her permission. When Sansa asked to go and see Joffrey one last time, her father refused, even when Septa Mordane offered to escort her. Sansa ran weeping to her chambers, of course, and Morganna decided against asking to see Myrcella; she'd seen her the day before, and the girl was likely grieving her father with her family. Morganna wasn't particularly good at comforting people, nor did she enjoy it.

She wasn't even sure if she'd grieve her own father's death or not. Lord Bolton had never been a father like her uncle was to his children, sitting with them around the fire at night and telling stories. Her mother was never particularly warm either, hardly the type to sing her or her siblings to sleep, or fuss over them when they fell over and grazed a knee, although she did give good hugs. And some of Morganna's happiest childhood memories were learning to ride with her mother, galloping across the moors surrounding the Dreadfort beside her. Her mother seemed far more relaxed the further away they got from the castle, smiling more freely and letting a slightly less measured and restrained side of her show.

She wondered what her mother would do now. Something strange was definitely going on, or they wouldn't be going back north at all. Her mother would know more about what was going on if she was here, and she could actually do something about it, too. At that thought, Morganna stopped concerning herself with the matter altogether.  Even if she knew what was happening (no one would tell her), even if she knew what she needed to do (she did not), no one would listen to her, because she was twelve years old.