Morganna spent her days in a perpetual state of frustration. Though Sansa spent much of her time outside their rooms praying, in the sept or in the Godswood, she herself had never been so devout, and could not remain still that long. Weeks passed, where all she could do apart from sit in her chambers was pace restlessly around the walls and yard of the castle, trailed by Lannister red cloaks.

She and her cousin were given freedom of the castle, a reward more likely due to Sansa's good behaviour - and her compliance in writing the letter to their family - than anything Morganna had done. It was a laughable sort of freedom, though. Cersei had set an 'honour guard' to follow them, supposedly to protect her future gooddaughter, but even Sansa could see that it was to make sure they didn't try to escape.

Not that escape would be possible, with the walls heavily guarded, and nowhere to go even if they did make it out. Having found the room they were housed in to be unescapable after only a few hours in there, Morganna spent three more days trying to disprove this, to no avail. Even she wasn't stupid enough to try slipping past the guards when the maids brought their meals. If she made it past the door, she wouldn't make it out of Maegor's Holdfast, and she certainly wouldn't make it out of the Red Keep, unless she fancied throwing herself off the walls into the sea. That was still an option, of course, but one she had shelved for the moment. So far, living under King Joffrey was not quite so bad as suicide.

When they were allowed out of the rooms, albeit guarded, the girl she was less than a month ago would have used the opportunity to slip away. Or try to, at least. Morganna hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was wary after her disastrous attempt at fleeing the city. She still bore the marks from that day; the back of her head was still tender even three weeks later, and where she had hit the ground, her face had been an attractive shade of purple, dotted with grazes and scrapes from the debris on the cobbles. The cuts had mostly healed, but the bruises had faded into an even lovelier shade of greenish-yellow, as had the ones on her arms where the men had hauled her to the castle.

Her mood hadn't been improved by how the other courtiers acted towards her and Sansa. They avoided catching her eye, as though she had a contagious disease, but stared curiously after her, muttering behind their hands about traitorous Starks and the barely civilised Northerners. Morganna didn't want to see them affecting her, so made a point of smiling her widest, most dazzling smile at each one. She hoped it was unnerving. Sansa also put on a mask, though hers was blank, demure and ladylike.

Morganna usually avoided the gardens of the keep, preferring the relative solitude and trees of the Godswood, or even better, walking on the walls with the sea breeze blowing in her hair and looking out at leagues of nothingness. However, that day, she was passing the entrance and saw a flash of golden hair moving through the archway, immediately making a beeline to follow without waiting for her guards to catch up.

"Myrcella!"

The Princess looked up from the flowers from where she walked with her septa, face breaking into a smile even as her eyes darted over Morganna's shoulder at the two red cloaks. Morganna had not been permitted to see her friend since her uncle had been arrested, and she doubted that had changed at all, but before her guards could stop her she was already striding forward.

"Lady Morganna," The girl quickly hugged her, an deliberate move; what Lannister guards would dare lay a hand on the Princess to separate them? Even when Myrcella broke the embrace, she still linked their arms, turning to the guards and her chaperone with convincingly innocent eyes. "You don't mind if we take a short walk around the gardens, do you septa?" Despite the sweetness of her tone, it was an order not a question.

"The Bolton girl is not to speak with anyone save her cousin," One of the guards grunted, even as the other looked uneasy.

Morganna pulled a face; despite herself, she did get along with a lot of the guards they assigned her. She bored easily without someone to talk to, and figured she might as well make the most of the company she was stuck with. Most of them seemed surprised she was bothering to talk to them at all. But this one was new, and had shut down any attempts at conversation she had made, scowling as she laughed at her own jokes and tutting at his fellows whenever he spoke with her.

"Are you disobeying your Princess?" Myrcella didn't back down. The girl was far from a pushover, and stood up to this man like she'd stood up to Joffrey so many times before. "What would his Grace have to say at a Lannister guardsman treating his sister such?"

The man glowered, but the other quickly stepped forward. "Remain in the gardens, if you please, Princess," He said with a friendly smile, glaring at his partner. "Lady Bolton is not to be let out of our sight. I'm sure you understand,"

"Of course, Ser," Myrcella nodded graciously at that, with a faint smile.

Morganna was hardly so subtle, grinning smugly at sour-face and giving a jaunty wave as her friend led her away at a sedate pace, arms still linked; if she couldn't openly rebel and escape, then the least she could do was be as intolerable as possible to those who hated her.

Once they were out of earshot, the Princess spoke in a low voice. "Are you alright?"

"Bored out of my mind," Morganna couldn't keep the smile off her face at being reunited with her friend, after so long with only Sansa for company.

"Only you could be so cheerful with your uncle in the Black Cells," Myrcella smiled sadly.

She shrugged, to distract from the flash of anger she knew would be in her eyes. "They say he committed treason,"

"They say he did," Neither of them knew any more on the subject than that, so had little to say about it. "But I was asking about your face. How did that happen?"

"Oh," It was easy to forget about. "Did they tell you I tried to escape the day it... the day everything happened?"

"No," Myrcella narrowed her eyes. "Go on,"

So Morganna told her everything. She hadn't even told Sansa half as much, leaving out most of the scene at the Mud Gate, and it was somewhat of relief to say the whole story out loud. By the end, the Princess' jaw was clenched.

"We were kept in that room for a week," Morganna finished. "But we're allowed freedom of the castle, now, thanks to your dear mother," She spoke sarcastically, with a pointed glare back in the direction of the guards. "You're the first decent person I've spoken to in weeks,"

"My mother won't allow us to speak again," The Princess sighed. "Those two will tell her about this, for sure,"

"Worried I'll corrupt you?" She grinned. "You're as bad as I am, really, you just care enough to hide it,"

"I won't deny that," Myrcella gave a small laugh. "But I'll still be forbidden from seeing you at all,"

"I'll break the rules for you," Morganna shrugged. "What are they going to do to me? They can't harm a highborn hostage, or what would be the point?"

"No, but they can lock you up in that room again," Myrcella said.

She rolled her eyes. "I thought you were meant to be the brave one of your family?"

"Joff is braver than I am," The Princess said slyly. "He once proclaimed that he should face my brother Loreon in a joust, and seemed to truly believe he could beat him, because 'a Prince is always better than a bastard'. Only Mother could convince him not to try it,"

Morganna laughed. "Where is Loreon now?" She knew from Ren that Joffrey despised his bastard brother, and regretted not thinking of him sooner. But surely Myrcella would look more upset if the king had taken her favourite brother's head off.

"Gone," Her friend said neutrally enough, though she heard the hint of relief in her voice. "He vanished the day Father died. Joff was furious, but it's best for everyone, I think,"

Oh, yes, it was the Princess' father that had died. She knew that, of course, but Morganna had always found it hard to relate the fat, drunken King to her friend.

"Sorry about your father," She fought the urge to wince as she spoke the words. They sounded as insincere as they were. Morganna wasn't good at comforting people, though it was a good thing her friend didn't look like she needed it much.

"Thank you," Myrcella seemed to feel the same way, so she moved on.

"Speaking of vanishing relatives," Never let it be said that she couldn't keep a conversation flowing. "Have you heard anything of Arya?"

"No," Her friend looked more concerned by that than the mention of her father's death. "I thought she was just being kept in your rooms for behaving badly,"

"Did anyone tell you that?"

"No, I just assumed. I haven't heard any talk of her, only you and Lady Sansa. She's not with you both?"

"I don't think she's here at all," Morganna said slowly. "We haven't seen her since before my uncle was arrested. But she knew about the secret passages under the keep, she was talking about finding the dragon skulls. She must have escaped. Maybe she even got onto the ship Lord Stark had hired to take us to Winterfell,"

"I suppose that's a good thing," Myrcella said bleakly. "It's likely safer than here for her. That's awful, isn't it? I've always thought of the Red Keep as my home - I hate that it's now your prison,"

"It was the same for my mother," Morganna looked away, remembering the woman's face when she had told her she was going south, coldly furious, but it had been the hint of desperation and fear that had truly scared her. Her mother wasn't scared of anything. "Well, not quite. It was worse for her," Joffrey had yet to murder her family in front of her. He was not quite the monster the Mad King had been.

"Listen," The Princess gave her a sharp look, as they neared the completion of their circuit of the gardens. "You'll come face to face with Joff at some point, it's bound to happen. I know you hate him, but just do what he says. I know him, he's my twin brother. No matter how unreasonable, he's bound to think up something worse if you make him angry,"

"That's what you do, is it?" Morganna asked, sarcastic. "You told me how you've been protecting Tommen from him since you were old enough to walk, and I've heard you mock Joffrey to his face,"

"I'm a Princess, not the niece of a convicted traitor," Myrcella said. "And even my mother would have something to say if he laid a hand on me. You have none of that. You're on your own,"

Morganna gritted her teeth. Though she could see that her friend had a point, even the idea of following any orders that vile boy gave her made her skin crawl.

"I can't promise anything,"

*

Myrcella was right, of course. Inevitably, they did end up facing Joffrey. She and Sansa stood before the boy King, in front of the whole court. The court seemed diminished, however, as though many of the lords and ladies had sensed more trouble was to come and left for their respective estates.

Most of that first court session was deathly dull, announcing various decrees that had been passed. Tywin Lannister was named Hand of the King. Cersei, now the Queen Regent, was to replace Lord Stannis on the small council. Janos Slynt - Morganna had hated him for the gold cloak on his back alone, which had fast turned to loathing as it was revealed that he was the one to betray her uncle - was given Harrenhal and a small council seat of his own, much to the displeasure of the remaining lords. Most notably, Ser Barristan was dismissed from the Kingsguard and replaced by the Kingslayer as Lord Commander. Despite being offered land and gold to live in peace, he was deeply offended, tearing off his white cloak, throwing down his sword and storming out of the chamber.

Morganna didn't bother to hide her grin as Barristan the Bold loudly insulted Joffrey for all to hear.

The King threw a tantrum, of course, and ordered the old knight to be seized. The frog-faced lickspittle Janos Slynt hastened to obey, as Joffrey then filled the vacant place in the Kingsguard with Sandor Clegane, despite the big man refusing to swear knight's vows. Ser Boros Blount objected briefly, but was soon shut down.

Then Sansa stepped forward. Her cousin had seemed tense this whole session, but Morganna had put it down to being terrified of punishment, which was fair enough. She watched in disbelief, however, as she called out in a tremulous voice.

"Your Grace,"

What are you doing?

All eyes turned to the two of them. Joffrey smiled down from the Iron Throne as he took in Sansa. Morganna wanted nothing more than to smack that slimy look off his face.

"Come forward, my lady," The King called out.

Sansa moved forward, people parting to let her pass. Gods sake. Morganna hastened to follow her. As irritating as her cousin often was, she wouldn't let her stand alone in whatever foolishness this was. Though Sansa did seem to have a plan, and did an impressive job of not appearing too nervous.

"The Lady Sansa, of House Stark," The herald cried. "And her cousin, the Lady Morganna of House Bolton,"

Sansa stopped before the throne, Morganna a step behind her.

"Do you have some business for King and council, Sansa?" Queen Cersei asked from the council table.

"I do." Sansa went to her knees. Morganna simply stepped back. "As it please Your Grace, I ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark, who was the Hand of the King," Her words sounded polished and practiced.

Cersei only sighed. "Sansa, you disappoint me. What did I tell you about traitor's blood?"

Oh shut up, you two-faced old hag. How could her mother ever stand the woman? Morganna fought the urge to glare at the Queen, forcing herself to stare at a particular blade on the throne, at eye level. She didn't want to have to look up at Joffrey.

"Your father has committed grave and terrible crimes, my lady," Maester Pycelle said, speaking to her like she was six years old.

"Ah, poor sad thing," Varys sighed. "She is only a babe, my lords, she does not know what she asks,"

Morganna couldn't help but turn to shoot a glare at the eunuch, but by some miracle the King actually seemed to be listening.

"Let her speak," He commanded. "I want to hear what she says,"

Only because you'd love to hear her beg.

"Thank you, Your Grace." Sansa smiled shyly.

Morganna resisted from rolling her eyes. You'd be proud to see me now, Mother. I told you I could act a lady.

"Treason is a noxious weed," Pycelle declared solemnly. "It must be torn up, root and stem and seed, lest new traitors sprout from every roadside,"

It was almost like he hadn't counselled King Aerys to let the Lannisters into King's Landing. Her mother had told her all about the characters at court before she left Winterfell.

"Do you deny your father's crime?" Littlefinger asked.

"No, my lords," Sansa said. "I know he must be punished. All I ask is mercy. I know my lord father must regret what he did. He was King Robert's friend and he loved him, you all know he loved him. He never wanted to be Hand until the King asked him. They must have lied to him. Lord Renly or Lord Stannis or... or somebody, they must have lied, otherwise..."

Joffrey leaned forward at that, hands grasping the arms of the throne. "He said I wasn't the King. Why did he say that?"

"His leg was broken," Sansa replied eagerly. "It hurt ever so much, Maester Pycelle was giving him milk of the poppy, and they say that milk of the poppy fills your head with clouds. Otherwise he would never have said it,"

"A child's faith... such sweet innocence..." Varys said.

Morganna thought that one of the blades on the edge of the throne looked rather loose, and wondered how the eunuch would squeal if she threw it at him.

But Varys had not finished. "And yet, they say wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes,"

He's on our side? Why?

"Treason is treason," Pycelle said at once.

"Mother?" Joffrey looked restless, turning to Cersei.

The woman considered Sansa thoughtfully. "If Lord Eddard were to confess his crime," She said at last. "We would know he had repented his folly,"

Joffrey stood, and despite her skepticism, Morganna found herself wishing for him to grant Sansa's request.

"Do you have any more to say?" He asked her.

"Only... that as you love me, you do me this kindness, my Prince," Sansa said.

It was truly sickening, but the right thing to say. Joffrey looked her up and down, pleased. It was a good thing Sansa was here; Morganna didn't think she could've forced those words through her teeth without throwing up her breakfast with it.

"Your sweet words have moved me," He spoke as though he was wise and gallant, nodding. "I shall do as you ask... but first your father has to confess. He has to confess and say that I'm the King, or there will be no mercy for him,"

"He will," Sansa said, delighted. "Oh, I know he will,"

What a ridiculous farce this whole thing was...

"One more thing,"

Morganna stiffened as Joffrey turned his gaze to her, his smile turning more into a smirk.

"Your cousin has not said a word. Nor does she go to her knees before her rightful King. I would have her add her voice to yours in agreement,"

Beg. He wants me to beg. Morganna felt her face darken, and she gave the King the most poisonous look she could muster. There was a heavy silence, then she saw Sansa on the floor, looking at her with wide blue eyes, pleading. Joffrey was growing more agitated. She remembered Myrcella's words. He really will kill my uncle if I don't.

Morganna stepped forward and slowly knelt beside her cousin. Sansa let out a breath in relief.

"Thank you, your Grace," She forced out, even adding on a pretty smile. "For gallantly sparing my uncle's life. The North will be... gladdened to hear it,"

Joffrey narrowed his eyes at her, trying to work out if she was laughing at him, but clearly decided she wasn't, sitting back and waving a dismissive hand.

As she quickly got to her feet, tugging Sansa up with her, Morganna felt someone's eyes on her. She glanced to the small council table, and saw Cersei Lannister giving her an odd look. Then the Queen's eyes narrowed, and she looked away.

*

They were escorted to the Sept of Baelor in a litter. Morganna had never travelled in a litter in her life - even when she was too young to sit a horse herself, she had ridden in front of her mother, who wouldn't be seen dead in such a thing - and found it humiliating. Why couldn't they have just let her ride? It wasn't like she'd be going anywhere, the streets were packed.

"Stop wriggling around," Sansa didn't sound as annoyed at her as she might have done once.

Her cousin had been in a much better mood after she had gotten Joffrey to agree to spare her father, even more so when Lord Stark agreed to confess. Even Morganna had to admit that she had done well, so had in return tried to irritate her a little less. It was proving difficult, not because she was incapable, but because annoying Sansa was the one true amusement left to her.

The litter was set down, and they both stepped out, finding themselves at the top of the steps, outside the Great Sept. The bells were ringing, and a crowd was gathering below, hundreds and thousands of citizens come out to see the show. Disdaining them, Morganna trying to peer through the hordes for any sign of Lord Stark. Unable to see much at all, even from up here, she turned to those on the steps.

Vipers and posers and liars were all around them. Joffrey was strutting around in gold and crimson, his mother beside him in black, as if she truly mourned for King Robert. Five of the Kingsguard were there too, including the Hound. Varys, wearing slippers and patterned robe, was gliding between the various lords, and Littlefinger was also present, laughing and joking like nothing was wrong.

She hated them all.

"Your father gets to go free," Morganna muttered to Sansa. "Well, not free, to the Night's Watch, you know what I mean. But what happens to us?" It was a question she had been considering for a while.

"I'm sure once Mother and Robb come to King's Landing to pledge fealty to Joffrey, we'll go back home with him," Sansa shrugged.

That's very optimistic. Her cousin hadn't stopped smiling all morning, knowing that her father was to be spared. Though Morganna was glad they had assurance of that too, she had a bad feeling that wouldn't leave her, preventing her from being entirely content. She didn't think that returning home was going to be that easy at all. At the very least, Sansa would remain in King's Landing as a hostage to ensure the Stark's good behaviour; she was still Joffrey's betrothed, after all.

"You should have worn Stark colours," Morganna said to her cousin absently; the girl was wearing a sky-blue dress.

"That would have caused trouble," Sansa frowned slightly, looking her up and down. "You're pushing things enough, wearing that gown,"

"White and gold is hardly rebellious," She had to smile at that. "I'm not a Stark, and besides, there's not a hint of grey on me," Though the skirts were largely white, the bodice was equal parts white and gold. "I should chastise you for turning yourself into a Tully flag. Red and blue, with silver jewellery," She tutted in mock dismay, and tugged at the end of one of Sansa's braids.

Her cousin batted her hand away, irritated. "You're nearly as bad as Arya," She hissed. "This isn't a game, Morganna. We mustn't cause trouble,"

Like I didn't know that already. Morganna was about to reply with something sarcastic, when she saw the crowd begin to stir towards the back of the square.

"Is that him?" She asked, squinting.

Sansa immediately followed her gaze. Sure enough, Lord Stark was being dragged through the crowd by goldcloaks, all shouting obscenities and insults at him. He could barely walk due to his broken leg, the cast covering it having grown grey and rotten. They half-carried him up the steps, and his eyes landed on them, checking they were unharmed. Though he wore fine new clothes, done in grey and white velvet, he was very thin, and his long face, so much like her mother's, Edrick's, Jon's and Arya's, was pained.

Then he was turned around to face the crowd. The bell ceased to toll, and quiet slowly settled across the plaza. Her uncle lifted his head and began to speak, his voice thin and weak. People were shouting things like, "What?" and "Louder!" Janos Slynt stepped up behind him, prodding him sharply. Morganna gritted her teeth. A butcher's son, pushing around the Lord of Winterfell like a trained monkey.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King," Her uncle said more loudly, his voice carrying across the plaza. "And I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and men,"

The crowd had began to scream and shout, taunts and obscenities filling the air. A glance to Morganna's left showed that Sansa had hidden her face in her hands. Morganna was tempted to do the same.

Lord Stark raised his voice still higher, straining to be heard. "I betrayed the faith of my King and the trust of my friend, Robert. I swore to defend and protect his children, yet before his blood was cold, I plotted to depose and murder his son and seize the throne for myself. Let the High Septon and Baelor the Beloved and the Seven bear witness to the truth of what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, and by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,"

A stone came sailing out of the crowd, and hit him in the forehead. The only reason he didn't fall was the gold cloaks on either side. Blood ran down his face, and more stones followed, most missing him but hitting several of the guards and knights. Morganna smirked as she saw Slynt get struck, nimbly dodging a rock herself. Two of the Kingsguard stepped in front of Joffrey and the Queen, protecting them with their shields.

The High Septon knelt before the pair of them. "As we sin, so do we suffer," He intoned. "This man has confessed his crimes in the sight of gods and men, here in this holy place. The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us that they are also merciful. What shall be done with this traitor, Your Grace?"

A thousand voices were screaming, but Morganna's eyes were on Joffrey, as he stepped out from behind the Kingsguard.

"My mother bids me let Lord Eddard take the black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father," He looked straight at Sansa then, and smiled. In that smile, Morganna saw something cruel and hateful, and her stomach froze in dread even before he opened his mouth again. "But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your King, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

The seconds after his words didn't quite seem real, like it was happening to someone else, a bad dream. A living nightmare. The crowd roared, surging forward. The High Septon clutched at the King's cape, and Varys came rushing over waving his arms, and even the Queen was saying something, but Joffrey shook his head. Lords and knights moved aside as he stepped through, tall and fleshless, a skeleton in iron mail, the King's Justice. Sansa had fallen to her knees, sobbing hysterically. Ser Ilyn Payne climbed the steps of the pulpit.

The executioner gestured and Janos Slynt gave a command. The gold cloaks flung Lord Eddard to the marble, with his head and chest out over the edge. Sansa was still screaming, but Morganna had realised that her legs still worked and she wasn't frozen in place. Forgetting that she was only twelve, forgetting she was a skinny girl, forgetting that in the end, it didn't matter what she did or not as it wasn't going to stop them, she leapt forward. She wasn't sure what she was planning on doing, but didn't have time to work it out, as a huge gauntleted hand caught her around the waist before she was even halfway there, with so much force that she gasped for breath.

"Get off me!" She kicked and squirmed and tried in vain to hit whoever held her, seeing the white armour of the Kingsguard and the flash of a scarred face above her. The Hound, I'll never break his grip. "Get off, get off, this wasn't meant to happen, he's meant to take the black! They're going to kill him," She was met with only silence from her captor, as the world descended into chaos around her.

Ser Ilyn drew a two-handed greatsword from the scabbard on his back. As he lifted the blade above his head, sunlight seemed to ripple and dance down the dark metal, glinting off an edge sharper than any razor. Ice. He was going to kill her uncle with his own sword. Her mother had already lost a brother and a sister, both to the madness of the Targaryens, she couldn't let her lose Lord Eddard as well, she wouldn't, it wasn't right, they couldn't -

The sword came down. Lord Stark's head came off. Morganna stopped struggling and just stared, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks.

Minutes passed. The crowd was beginning to disperse. Sansa was still on her knees, sobbing inconsolably and shaking like a leaf. Morganna wasn't sure if the girl had actually seen it happen or not. She hoped not. It was horrible, her whole body was shaking, icy cold or boiling hot, she couldn't tell.

She felt the Hound loosen his hold on her as she had stopped trying to fight, and she stepped forward, away from him slightly, in half a daze at what had just happened. He's dead. They really did it. Varys, Littlefinger, the High Septon, even Cersei, all wearing varying expressions of shock and distress, were conferring together. Janos Slynt and his men carelessly rolled over Lord Stark's body, his new grey doublet now stained, the embroidered direwolf's head turned red with blood. Another man collected his head, holding it by the hair. It had not been that long ago, that she had spoken to her uncle. He had been healthy, alive, talking, and now... now he was dead, his head detached from his neck. It was almost incomprehensible.

In the midst of it all, she saw Joffrey.

Before she could even think about what she was doing, that it was a terrible idea that would almost certainly get her killed, Morganna strode towards him. Her hand drew back, the way she had seen her brothers and cousins do, the way Edrick had done back in the yard at Winterfell, and as he finally turned to see her coming, she swung her fist with all the strength she had into his cruel, handsome face.

There was a loud, painful crack.

What there was left of the crowd to see roared again in surprise, many of them laughing and whooping. The King staggered, and would have fallen had one of the Kingsguard not caught him, and someone was shouting. Morganna wasn't sure who, the ringing in her ears preventing her from distinguishing a single voice as she drew back her fist again, ignoring the fact that her knuckles were bruised, hurting, bleeding. Unfortunately, Joffrey was hastily dragged out of reach, and someone caught her arm, bending it painfully behind her back. She grimaced, swallowing a yelp of pain, biting her lip so as to not cry out.

"How dare that bitch lay a hand on me? I am the King!" Joffrey was screaming, furiously clutching his nose, which Morganna was grimly satisfied to see was bruised and bloody already, likely broken. "Ser Meryn, strike her!"

She hardly saw the gauntleted hand coming before it backhanded her across the face. She did cry in pain then, falling to her knees. No one had ever struck her like that before, and it sounded foolish, but it hurt more than she would have thought. This action proved unpopular with the remaining crowd; booing and angry muttering could be heard.

Joffrey was oblivious. "I want that Northern savage's head, along with the traitor Stark's! I - "

"Take them both back to the castle," Cersei was clearly seething that Morganna had dared strike her son, but at least had the sense to see that killing a twelve year old girl on the steps of the Great Sept would turn the day into even more of fiasco than it already was. "Now! Hurry,"

Your sense kicked in ten minutes too late, your Grace.

Two pairs of arms dragged Morganna to her feet, rushing her back to the litter along with Sansa. She was dizzy from the second blow to the head in recent history. I've changed my mind, she considered dazedly as they were carried through the still rowdy crowd, hearing the jeers and curses. Litters aren't so bad after all. At least there were no stones thrown at them.

Sansa was still weeping as they entered the Red Keep. Without really thinking about it, Morganna draped her arm around her cousin's shoulder, too numb to really process what had happened. Her hand ached and stung, her face hurt too, and her uncle was dead. What did that mean for them? She knew the answer already. War.

They were hurried across the yard before Joffrey arrived back, no doubt to keep him from demanding her head again. After everything, Morganna cared little for the fact the King wanted her dead. They'd surely come for her later, when things were more quiet and private, but least she'd had the pleasure of seeing blood spurt from his nose, as she'd had to watch it spray from Lord Stark's neck.

When they reached the drawbridge of Maegor's Holdfast, only Sansa was allowed to cross. Morganna was held back, and Sansa was torn away even as they clung to each other, her blue eyes wild and panicked.

"No, no, don't, not her as well!" It was the wildest she had ever seen her cousin, but Morganna couldn't even begin to enjoy it as Sansa was forced into the holdfast, and she herself was dragged away. "Please, she's just a girl, she didn't mean to, she didn't know what she was thinking. Morganna!"

She wanted to say something mocking and brave, but couldn't find the words. They deposited her in the cells. Not the Black Cells, but the highest level, above ground, intended for highborn prisoners. The room was basic and plain but comfortable enough, with a bed, table and chairs and a selection of books. A cell was a cell, though; she was shoved roughly inside, the door locked behind her. The window was glass, but too small to climb out of, even for her. A spider was making it's web in the corner of the windowpane.

Morganna realised then that she might never see outside of this building again.

At the time, she hadn't cared whether she lived or died, simply wanting to make Joffrey hurt however she could. That last part hadn't changed. I hope I broke his nose. But she didn't want to die. The Lannisters had proven they cared nothing for keeping highborn hostages alive. Feeling the panic start to rise in her now the adrenaline was wearing off, Morganna began to pace this room as she had done the room - cell - in Maegor's, rubbing her bruised knuckles and blinking furiously. She wouldn't cry again, no, she would not.

It was dark by the time they came for her. She was led back to the Holdfast, up to the Queen's solar, where she was shown inside to be met by Cersei. Morganna sat in front of the woman's desk, and squashed her fear and grief with anger and hatred. It wasn't so hard to do.

"You struck the King," The Queen Regent looked down at her with great dislike and anger, all those sweet smiles gone, her tone vicious. "You humiliated my son in front of half the city. You broke his nose,"

"Your son took my uncle's head," Morganna had to laugh, incredulously. I'm likely dead anyway, why shouldn't I laugh?

"Lord Stark was a confessed traitor, you insolent little wretch," Cersei snarled, grabbing her wrist with claw-like fingers. "How dare you laugh in my face, having laid a hand on the King? You'll be lucky if I don't have that hand taken off, never mind what letters your mother sends me! Joffrey is still demanding your head,"

"Why not let him have it?" She muttered, but a sudden thought occurred to her. "The North is already marching to war, aren't they?" Morganna laughed, perhaps out of sheer relief, which made her giddy, and reckless. "And Joffrey wasn't meant to kill Lord Stark. Two headless hostages won't be much use. You can't kill me,"

From Cersei's gritted teeth, she knew that she was right. "Don't even think you won't be punished for this," She snapped, grip on her wrist tightening painfully. "I heard about your little jaunt with my daughter in the gardens. That won't be happening again for a start. I've half a mind to throw you in the Black Cells, the same one your uncle was rotting in,"

"You know your mad son will kill me in my sleep if you leave me there," Morganna tried to grin like nothing scared her, hoping that translated into her voice.

She expected another snarled response to that, as the Queen opened her mouth, only to close it again abruptly. There was a pause, where Cersei only stared at her.

"Your Grace?"

"Has there ever been a Lannister - Bolton marriage?"

The sharp question came out of nowhere, and Morganna frowned.

"No?" Gods, she hoped the woman wasn't planning on marrying her off to Tommen. "Why?"

Instead of the expected reply, telling her not to ask impertinent questions, the Queen's eyes narrowed. "When were you born?"

"I'm two-and-ten - "

"I know how old you are. What was the day you were born on?"

"During the ninth moon," Morganna was confused now. "The twenty-second day. My nameday was during the Hand's tourney,"

Cersei sat back, not taking her eyes from Morganna's face. The Queen looked as though she had seen a ghost. "Who do you resemble more, your mother or your father?"

"Why do you - "

"Answer me," The snarl was back.

Morganna hesitated. "My mother," She said slowly. "My hair, my eyes, my long face. More Stark than Bolton. Mother says I look like her sister did, Lady Lyanna,"

At this, the woman's lip curled, and her eyes grew dark. Of all the things she had done, only this gesture actually managed to scare Morganna.

"You do not look like dear, dead Lyanna," She spat the name. "Or my late husband would not have treated me as he did," What did that have to do with anything? "Tell me, has Lady Rosennis ever spoken to you of anyone from my house? Did she ever meet any Lannister cousins? Daven, Damion, Gerion, Tygett, Damon?"

"Perhaps?" Morganna guessed, nonplussed by the Queen's sudden sharp focus. "I don't know. The only time she's ever spent in the south has been at court, she's never been to the Westerlands,"

Cersei's expression darkened, and she looked away for a moment before speaking again. "What about my brother?"

"Ser Jaime or Tyr - "

"Jaime," She cut her off.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Answer me," Cersei grabbed her wrist again, leaning over the desk so that her face was inches from Morganna's. "Or I will drag your sweet little cousin out of bed and order Ser Meryn to give her a matching bruise to your own,"

Morganna gave her a truly vicious glare, but obliged. "I don't know what you think I'm going to say. They were both in Aerys' court during the rebellion, and my brother is his squire, so they've met? It's not like she speaks of him often. Why would she? You know that, you're her friend,"

"Friends," The Queen said the word like a thrown weapon. "I had believed that was so, though I am increasingly feeling the urge to rip her lying, treacherous head off," Before Morganna could reply to that insanity, she continued. "Oh, I see it all now! I bet that Northern whore was laughing behind my back the whole time, her and her bastard brat - "

"My mother is no whore!" Morganna shot back, uncaring of how impolite it was to interrupt the Queen.

"Isn't she?" Cersei smiled nastily. "One bastard isn't enough to convince you of that? Very well," She dragged Morganna over to the mirror despite her protests. "Look! Look at my face. Now look at yours,"

"I don't know what you - "

"Look, you stupid girl," The Queen was breathing heavily, clenching and unclenching her fists. "Look past your dull hair and your mother's nose. You could be my daughter. Or should I say, my wretched twin brother's,"

Morganna's mouth opened to contradict that ridiculous suggestion, but paused. The shape of her lips, her eyes, her chin, everything else, really... they were all remarkably similar. Even her cheekbones; she realised now that they were softer than the harsh angles of her mother's and Ren's. More like Cersei's. She had always looked more like Ren than anyone else in her family. Her father, Lord Bolton, and Aileen looked nothing like her at all, and the features she shared with Edrick were Stark ones.

Cersei both despised and revelled in her realisation. "Your mother had the nerve to write me a letter, practically begging for your good treatment. Shamelessly asking for favours, after lying to my face for over a decade, sneaking around with my own brother,"

"Why do you care?" Morganna snapped. "What does it matter to you, who your brother - ?"

The Queen's beautiful face twisted into an ugly expression of rage. "Get out," She breathed.

That seemed to have touched a nerve. Strange. "What, just like that - "

"Get. Out,"

Morganna got out.

As she was walking down the corridor, escorted by a noble knight of the Kingsguard, she heard what sounded like glass smashing from the room she had just come from. Had she not just been subject to an alarming revelation, she would have counted it as a victory, to anger the Queen so deeply and avoid punishment for punching Joffrey. Had her uncle not been beheaded earlier that day, she might even have smiled. As it was, she went with the guard without complaint.

They took her back to her room with Sansa, perhaps not knowing what else to do with her. Her cousin was still awake when she made it back to their room, and scrambled off the bed to meet her, throwing her arms around her. Morganna staggered slightly, but did return her embrace.

"I thought you weren't coming back," Her cousin sobbed into her hair. Sansa was tall, but for now, Morganna was slightly taller. "I thought they were going to take you to the cells, or beat you again, or take your head like Father,"

"Course not," Morganna smiled tremulously, feeling tears well in her own eyes, a combination of fear, frustration and grief. She had loved her uncle more than her own father, who might not even be her father at all. "The Queen is furious, but she as good as admitted she can't harm either of us. Not after - " She broke off, though Sansa didn't seem to hear her.

"He p-promised," Her cousin shook in her arms. "Joffrey. He said - he said he'd let him live,"

"Joffrey lied," She replied quietly.

Neither of them slept well. Morganna heard Sansa lying awake in her bed well into the night, weeping into her pillow, whilst she herself didn't even bother changing into her nightdress, remaining fully clothed as she sat in the chair by the window, staring out into the darkness. Part of her still feared being dragged from her bed to some dark cell, and wanted to be dressed if they came for her again. She remembered the crazed look in Cersei's eyes; that was more frightening than all of Joffrey's shouting.

Morganna must have fallen asleep at some point. She dreamt of her mother's gentle hands, her hard eyes, her voice, whispering the words, I told you so. She woke up with a gasp, cheek wet with tears again. I wish I could talk to you for real. Surely her mother would deny the Queen's ridiculous claims? Though Morganna was not sure she would believe her.

*

Edited November 2024