You're the light, you're the night
You're the color of my blood

A year; that was the time that had passed since Myrcella Lannister's world had been turned completely upside down. For as long as she could remember she had believed that she was the daughter of Cersei Lannister and Robert Baratheon; Myrcella had adored her father, or the man that she had believed that was her father. Only to discover that not only was she not a princess, but she was the product of an incestuous relationship between her mother and her uncle Jaime. She had been named Myrcella Baratheon, her birth had been celebrated and she had been a princess, yet all of that had been taken from her just a little less than a year ago.

The walls of Winterfell would never be considered home to her, at least that was what she kept telling herself. No matter how much Catelyn Stark treated her like a guest she continued to feel like a prisoner. She was being used as a hostage against her brother Tommen. Though she tried Myrcella could not bring herself to hate her captors, they had help plead mercy for her mother; someone she would never see again, as well as for her uncle or rather father. Myrcella slowly raised a pair of stubborn blue eyes to the hulking gray walls and towards the flying dire wolf banner that sat atop the wall, for a brief moment Myrcella debated climbing up to the top and burning that blasted banner that had been the cause of her troubles and problems. Yet she had learned that her outbursts and fits of rage got her no where. It would still look better as a pile of ashes.. Myrcella thought to herself before turning up her nose and striding away from the keep.

Come child.. A whisper on the wind drew Myrcella's attention. She slowly raised her eyes to look over head and then around yet there was no one around. Something was drawing her into this direction, something was calling her forward. Yet in all this time, Myrcella had never heard the whispers of the old gods, not until this moment. Embrace your fate.

She found herself moving into the grove of a Weirwood, she had not seen one since that last time she had been in Winterfell, and even then she had not paid too much mind to the tree. Yet now as she approached it she could see the tears of the tree, yet she was not alone here at the tree. She could make out a form of a man sitting beside the small pond in front of the tree, it was none other than the Warden of the North himself; Lord Robb Stark. She had heard people call him the Young Wolf as well as the King in the North, yet she was certain that he was no King nor did she think that he wanted to be. Myrcella wrapped her hands into the folds of her cloak, even with gloves the cold of the North was almost too much for the Southern Lady. She was already starting to lose feeling in the tips of her tiny digits. The wind and cold had turned her cheeks and nose a shade of pink, yet her hair appeared almost as pale as the light layer of snow that rested on the ground.

There was a light sway in her hips as she approached her captor; she had had little to no contact with Robb, infact she was quite certain that he had actually been ignoring her very existence. She had almost given up trying to converse with him completely, yet it seemed that he no longer deplored her very existence instead he just didn't seem to care whether or not she was alive or dead. When he spoke she was actually shocked that he knew her name, then again everyone in this bloody kingdom knew who Myrcella Lannister was, the shamed stag, the traitor princess, the Norths hostage, whatever way you wanted to look at it, if you where Myrcella Lannister it wasn't a good thing. Myrcella's nose wrinkled lightly at being asked if she was lost before she turned her bright green eyes to look him in the face.

"I am not lost, I am simply not going anywhere in particular." Myrcella huffed lightly before she moved closer to the Northern Lord and slowly adjusted her dress so that she seated herself beside him. "In all my time here I had not come to visit the tree of the old gods, honestly I do not know much about them." She turned and looked up at the tree in wonder, contemplating whether the voice had come from this tree or not, she decided against sharing the words that she had heard whispered on the wind. Embrace her fate? Just what in the light of the seven was that supposed to mean? Myrcella gave a light sigh as she turned her head back to peer down into the water. "You don't like me very much." It was more of a statement than a question, yet she was trying to ease the ever uncomfortable silence that she seemed to find herself in.

You're the cure, you're the pain
You're the only thing I wanna touch
So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

You're the light, you're the night
You're the color of my blood

A light frown slowly pulled at the princesses lips at the words that auburn haired lord spoke. Though she found them to be quite true, they where not her gods; she had never known the old gods as she did the new. In fact she had never much cared to learn about them until this moment. She felt like a foreigner for the first time in a few weeks, she did not belong in the wintry landscape of the North yet this is where she was forced to stay. Yet as she looked at the Weirwood tree over her shoulder she could not help but feel drawn to this place, as if it was telling her that soon she would know where she belonged. She was a princess, yet she was no longer a princess; it was quite sad to know that she was a bastard and yet she could still have whatever she wanted. Still this did not make the young blonde maiden happy, instead it sickened her for what she was; she was nothing and had no purpose.

"Once they where everyone's gods, I did not know you had to be from the North to worship them." Myrcella muttered calmly, though a mischievous smile slowly pulled at her lips as she raised her eyes to look towards the sun through the branches of the Weirwood tree. She was forced to squint and then finally look away due to the brightness.

She had heard the discussion between Robb and Catelyn discussing a possible marriage between her and one of the Northern lords, yet none wanted her because of what she was. She did not blame them, for she even hated herself, a feeling that had almost become a part of her in the last year since she discovered that everything that she had ever known was a lie. In fact she didn't even know who she was anymore. Yet this was not something that Myrcella allowed the rest of the world to see, she did not allow people to see her weakness. To the rest of the world she appeared strong and in control, she did not let anyone see that the whispered words hurt. She held her head high, and she took being a prisoner to the North with some dignity and grace, befitting of a woman who was raised to be a princess.

Myrcella slowly turned her gaze back to Robb as he spoke once more. His words made little sense to her, he did not hate her but he was not allowed to like her? Yet at the same time they did, for she was a hostage and a Lannister, her family was responsible for the death of his father as well as the crippling of his younger brother Bran. "I guess I should be accustomed to being disliked, the name i'm forced to carry is hated; thus I am always to be hated, through no fault of my own." Myrcella pursed her lips and then balled up her fists and struck her own knee's in frustration. "It isn't fair!" Myr cried out as her careful grip on her control started to slip away from her. She did not want to show that she was angry yet, it was the only thing that she felt comfortable showing for it was not weakness, or how frightened she truly was of what was to happen to her.

She was not a loathsome creature, she did not purposely hurt people or lie, yet the weight that her family name carried was a burden. She felt like she was being crushed under the weight that she had been forced to bear, and she was forced to bear it alone. Pretty dresses, and goodies did nothing to quell the tremulous storm that was raging inside young Myrcella's mind and heart. That she was completely and utterly alone in this world, there was no one who was on her side; and she had done nothing to be put in this position except be born. She no longer worried about being executed by the Starks, but that was not to say that she did not fear what some of their household members might due to her if they got the chance, many had lost family and loved ones to her great grandfather, and the actions of her brother.

"I don't want anything from any of you, your pity is stifling; i'm your prisoner not your guest stop treating me like one." Myr slowly got to her feet and gave a light sigh as she rubbed her forehead. "I should hate you, I should hate every one of you for what I have been put through; yet I do not. I do not hate you Robb Stark." She did not look at Robb as she moved to place her hands against the Weirwood tree. The moment her gloved hands touched the tree she let out a gasp as she felt the wind pick up and the same haunting whisper moved through the branches and over her. Your eyes do not yet see, but soon you will believe. The voice was firm, yet gentle almost like a father scolding his child. It reminded her of her own fathers voice for a moment, but then she remembered that the man whom she believed to be her father wasn't really her's to begin with. Myrcella turned her eyes to Robb, they where wide with both fright and curiosity. She slowly gulped before nervously asking, "You heard that right?" She was not quite sure if the voice had spoken only to Myrcella or not, yet something told her that the Young Wolf had heard as well.

You're the cure, you're the pain
You're the only thing I wanna touch
So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

You're the light, you're the night
You're the color of my blood

Myrcella felt her heart begin to beat faster and she let out an outraged gasp as he threatened to place her into a dungeon, for all of Myrcella's attitude and bravado she did not wish to be locked up in the same place as a rapist, let alone in a dungeon to begin with. She was taken aback by his cruel words, and it only made her feel more and more unwelcome; she had known that she was not a guest and yet she had never thought that she would be a burden, just another mouth to feed? Myrcella huffed and turned her gaze away from Robb before frowning lightly once more. She pulled her cloak closer about her and then looked down into the frigid and cold water, her bright green eyes seemed to have a far away look as if she wasn't even in Winterfell any longer, that she was trying to escape deep within her mind. "It would have been kinder if you had just killed me." She turned her furious green eyes back to the Young Wolf.

"You don't know anything do you, the life you have so graciously granted me means absolutely nothing. You do not know what it is like to have everything you are stripped away from you; the armor you have worn all your life is no longer your protection." Myrcella said darkly as she curled her fingers into her coat once more to try and ward away the cold. She did not care much that her brother had been given the Westerlands, in fact she did not care much about anything as of late. She had nothing to look forward to, nothing to get her hopes up and to make her smile. In fact she figured she had probably forgotten what it was like to smile, and to feel happiness. Over the last year she had felt no such thing, after all she was a prisoner.

"Your Bannermen do not frighten me and neither do you." Myr said stubbornly. Yet as if to prove her wrong she heard a growl coming from behind her. She slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder and found that she was face to face with a large grey dire wolf. Her eyes grew wide once more as her body slowly turned to face him, her back now pressed against the Weirwood tree. "He however does frighten me." Myrcella said with a gulp as she made eye contact with Grey Wind, he seemed to grow disinterested rather quickly as he moved to the opposite side of Robb and laid down beside his sword, Ice. She let out a slow sigh of relief as she slowly raised her head to look up into the tree once more. In that moment she did not feel much like a frightening lioness, instead she was a scared cub who was caught in the gaze of a hunter.

Myrcella was not sure how Robb could deal with the cold so easily, his hands where not gloved as hers where and she still felt cold even with the couple of layers that she had to try and keep her warm. She looked at his hand that was now placed against the Weirwood tree beside her own and found many differences. His hand was much larger than her own, he did not need a pair of gloves to defend against the cold, nor did it seem to bother him at all. A light shiver ran through the lion princess' body as she closed her eyes and sighed once more. You are home, young wolf maid. Young wolf maid? If anyone was the young wolf maid it would be Sansa or Arya. She was certain that the gods where no longer speaking to her, she was simply hearing the voices on the wind. She was a lioness, not a wolf; yet some part of her felt pride at being called a wolf maid.

You're the cure, you're the pain
You're the only thing I wanna touch
So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

You're the light, you're the night
You're the color of my blood

The large Dire wolf was still something that Myrcella was not used to seeing, sure her brother Tommen had a cat that she had gotten along with but she herself had never heard of a Dire wolf becoming a pet. Dire wolves where never seen in the south, in fact there where many creatures here in the north that did not inhabit the south in which Myrcella was from. Myr slowly raised a brow as she looked at Robb when he mentioned that Grey Wind must like her seeing as he didn't try to kill her. That didn't seem to her like the wolf liked her, merely tolerated her and didn't see her as a threat. Grey Wind was much more dangerous than the blonde haired princess. "It is doubtful that your companion likes me, I am simply no threat to him." Myrcella said calmly as she sighed once more and then turned her bright green eyes to the tree once more. She did not like the next words that came out of his mouth, in fact she could feel her anger bubbling to the surface for his rude and hurtful comments.

"You know full well my brother would never allow such a thing; the instant I am dead this country will be torn apart by war once more." She shot him a dark look and then wrinkled her nose lightly. "You act as if I had any control over what Jeoffry did! Or my grandfather." Myrcella shot back stubbornly as she huffed and turned her nose up and away from the Lord of Winterfell. She knew that there was no one else to place the blame upon other than herself and her brother Tommen; yet she was the one the Northerners hated for she was in their country. Most lords would rather see Myrcella dead, then comfortable in the hands of the Northern Lord as she was now.

As Robb attacked her with his hurtful words Myrcella could not seem to contain her anger. It slowly began to rage in her eyes before heat rose to her cheeks and she simply lost it. "I am not my brother! You speak as if you knew my father you pompous ass; you knew nothing about him. Your father was a good man and did not deserve what happened to him, however I seem to find myself reminding you ignorant northerners that I had no say in his death. If I could have changed what happened to your father I would have. But don't you dare talk about my father like you knew him." Myrcella said angrily as he hands balled into fists at her side. It took everything she had not to smack the Northern Lord silly, yet something told her that her insults would get her into enough trouble, smacking him would have simply been for her own pleasure. "I have never hurt anyone in my entire life, you thick headed ice blocks can't say the same now can you. So tell me Young Wolf," She said the nick name with a roll of her eyes. "What bigger picture could I possibly be missing that has caused me to deserve your country's ire other than being born."

Myrcella slowly pushed the hood of her cloak off of her head. Her light blonde curls where worn loose about her face today. A tiny golden circlet was the only thing that adorned the princesses hair, a circlet engraved with the words of house Baratheon. It had been a gift from her father on her name day before he had passed away, she was lucky to still have the piece. For almost everything that had marked her as a Baratheon had been taken from her, everything that said that she was Robert Baratheon's daughter rather than Jaime Lannister's. "You will not even offer, i'd rather sleep in a dog kennel." Though the idea of getting dirty did not appeal to the princess, she found it amusing to think of herself curled up beside Grey Wind and the other dire wolves in the kennels. Though she found it much more amusing to think of Robb as the one who had to sleep with the wolves rather than herself. "Though it wouldn't surprise me if you had sent him an offer already, you seem to be trying harder than anyone to get rid of me. Even after I apologized for what my family has done to yours."

You're the cure, you're the pain
You're the only thing I wanna touch
So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do