The great hall of Winterfell was filled to the brim. Courtiers and attendants from King's Landing mingled with the household retinue of the Starks. That meant that there were a variety of smells mingling in the air. Heat from the fire burning somewhere, sweat, perfume and of course food. The food was something else. Deer, beef, geese, chicken, potatoes, gravy and all sorts. It was heavenly.
Myrcella knew she was incredibly fortunate, but after a month subsisting on rationed type food-per the King's orders-she was just happy to be eating in such style. Of course, she knew that there was a reason for this. She did not think that the Starks ate in such style all the time. Indeed, she had been somewhat surprised-embarrassingly so-when she'd learned from Sansa that they'd be having goose. From what her mother had told her, Myrcella had been led to believe the Starks didn't know what goose was.
The sound of a chair being pushed back drew Myrcella's attention to the centre of the great table. Her father, the King had stood up. Surprisingly he had not had much to drink. Myrcella could tell that by how red his face was. It was only a soft shade of red, usually, it was several shades darker. Perhaps being with his old friend was good for him? Lord Stark was sat to her father's right, whilst Myrcella's mother, the Queen, was sat to her father's left.
The King cleared his throat, which made the entire hall fall silent. How does he do that? Myrcella found herself wondering, not for the first time. Her father might not be the towering warrior of years past, but he still held a room captive. It was fascinating to see.
Her father was smiling, that was an even rarer sight. He hadn't smiled for some time. At least not that Myrcella could remember.
"Ladies, good Sers, it is a delight to be here." Her father began. "For too long we have not ventured to the north and now we are happy to have rectified that."
There were cheers then.
Her father basked in the cheers before holding up his hand, bringing silence once more.
"Our great thanks to our oldest and dearest friend, Lord Eddard, or Ned as we know him, for his hospitality and his everlasting friendship."
There were more cheers.
As the crowd fell silent, her father continued. "We have come for two reasons. One was to name our friend as Hand of the King. We are delighted that he has accepted."
More cheers.
Myrcella saw a look flash across her mother's face, was it surprise or disgust? She knew her mother did not like the Starks, for some reason or the other. But surely, she had not expected for father to name Lord Tywin as Hand? Grandfather and father barely saw eye to eye on anything. She still remembered the argument they'd had when Lord Tywin had visited court last year.
Lord Tywin had left with a black eye.
"And the second reason I came was to arrange a union between our two families. Many years ago, such a union was supposed to happen, but was prevented by fate." Here her father paused, and Myrcella saw a sadness come over him.
Mother was glaring at father, and Lord Eddard looked uncomfortable. If I can read his expression so easily, so will others. He won't survive at court.
Myrcella pushed that thought to one side.
Her father continued speaking. "We are delighted to announce the betrothal of our son, Prince Joffrey, to Lady Sansa."
A cheer.
"And we are even more delighted to announce the marriage of our beloved daughter Princess Myrcella and Lord Robb Stark."
The cheer that greeted that news nearly took off the roof. Myrcella smiled and felt a flutter. She had been told about the marriage by her father before they had even left King's Landing, she hadn't known that Joffrey would be betrothed to the Stark girl. A glance to her right told her that Joffrey hadn't known either, he had a strange expression on his face. A look to her left showed her that the Lady Sansa was blushing furiously, clearly, she had been told by her parents.
She looked passed Lady Sansa to Lord Robb.
He was a handsome man, tall, muscular, and with a shock of auburn hair. He looked more Tully than Stark, just like she looked more Lannister than Baratheon. He looked at her then and smiled tentatively.
She smiled back.
"Now," the King said bringing attention back to him. "enough talking, the food has been served, the music is playing, let us have a dance!"
That brought another cheer.
The King pushed his chair back even further and surprisingly extended a hand to her mother and led her out to the floor. Lord Eddard led Lady Catelyn to the floor as well. Joffrey didn't lead Sansa to the floor, instead he glowered at her.
Idiot.
"Princess, may I have the pleasure of this dance?" A soft voice asked. Myrcella looked away from her brother and saw Lord Robb standing before her, a hand extended.
Myrcella felt a flutter in her stomach. "Of course, my lord." She replied. She got up and took his hand and allowed him to lead her in the dance.
As they moved around the floor, Myrcella took the chance to examine her husband to be. He was tall and had auburn hair, as she'd already noted, he also had piercing green eyes. Eyes that she wanted to get lost in. He also smelt of something, something primal, it intrigued her.
"How have you found Winterfell so far, Princess?" Lord Robb asked.
"Please, call me Myrcella, we are to be married." Myrcella said.
"Only if you call me Robb." Lord…Robb replied.
Myrcella looked at him and smiled, he smiled back, and her heart fluttered a little. "Of course."
Robb's smile turned to a grin then. "Then it's settled."
"Indeed, it is." Myrcella agreed.
"So, back to my question. How have you found Winterfell so far, Myrcella?" Robb asked, hearing him use her name made her stomach do something odd, it jumped and twisted. Or at least that's what it felt like.
"What I have seen so far seems quite nice, Robb. It is clearly an old and well looked after structure. But I have heard so much about it from my father, the King, that it seems unfair not to see more of it." Myrcella answered truthfully, all her father had talked about with her on the way north had been Winterfell.
Robb nodded. "I would be more than happy to show you around Winterfell on the morrow if you'd like?"
"Yes, I would like that a lot." Myrcella replied.
The music changed slightly, signalling the end of the song and the need for a change of partner. Myrcella found herself dancing with her brother.
"You took too long to ask Lady Sansa to dance." Myrcella said to her brother.
Joffrey glowered at her. "I didn't want to dance."
"Why?" Myrcella asked.
"Because I don't like dancing and I don't want to dance with her." Joffrey snarled.
Myrcella sighed. "You are betrothed, you have to dance with her. Get to know her a little."
"And be like you?" Joffrey demanded.
Myrcella raised an eyebrow.
"Raising yourself into nothing more than the enemy's little tart." Joffrey snarled.
Myrcella exhaled. She had forgotten how much Joffrey was like their mother when he wanted to be. She resisted the urge to smack him and instead said. "Be kind, or I will make you be kind."
With that the music changed once more, and she found herself back with Robb.
He twirled her and then lifted her into the air as the dance demanded before bringing her down with a flourish.
They bowed to one another and then he led her back to her seat, kissing her hand as he did so.