Chapter Text
Myrcella
Despite this very moment being the reason she’d come to the the Vale in the first place, she couldn’t quite believe she was here.
She parked her car in the visitors parking lot and walked purposefully through the quad. All around her students were walking together in small groups or on their own. They all seemed to have so much purpose, they all seemed so happy.
The leaves had started to turn and even fall due to the higher altitude and it was an autumnal paradise against the red brick background of the centuries old buildings.
Just like that Vale University shot to the top of her list.
She asked a group of girls where she could find the rugby fields and they gave her a knowing smirk and pointed in the direction she’d already been heading. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her light wool coat, focusing more on eradicating each of fuzz than on what she was here to do.
She made it to the rugby field quickly, where a practice was just letting up. Just like she planned.
It was all very course catalogue, the fresh air had whipped blushes into all the boys cheeks and they had dirt on their knees and they were all laughing and clapping one another on the back.
They started to wander off the field, grabbing water bottles and gym bags. A few shot her curious glances and she fought the desire to pull down the hem of her skirt.
There was one though, that didn’t look at her, and she went straight for him.
“Excuse me,” she said, in as strong a voice as she could manage.
His friends all turned their attention to her but she kept her focus on him. He had bright blue eyes and dark brown hair made darker by his sweat. He was tall and broad, a big oak tree, but quiet. He hadn’t seemed to say a word, she’d only seen him chuckling at what the other boys had said.
“Yeah beautiful?,” a friend of his with a cocky grin said.
“Leave her alone, Greyjoy,” another said, “She’s not here for you.”
She ignored them, though she noted that the second one that had spoken had dark russet curls and bright blue eyes.
“Are you Gendry Waters?,” she asked the quiet dark haired boy.
“That’s me,” he nodded and looked at her curiously, even a bit suspiciously, “Do I know you?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, “Could I speak with you for a moment…,” she asked and glanced warily at his friends, “Alone?”
The russet hair boy slapped another on the chest, “Come on boys, pack it up. Waters - just remember my sister can kick your ass.”
The other boys ambled away and she and Gendry watched them go.
He turned back to her and said, “So? What can I do for you?”
Myrcella Baratheon was always prepared. She never walked into a test without having studied all of the material, she never showed up for a debate without having mastered her arguments, she carried condoms though she’d never done more than kiss a boy. She would have been a girl scout if her mother hadn’t branded it common.
But nothing could have prepared her for this moment.
“There’s no easy way to say this, Gendry,” she said, placing her hands behind her back so that he couldn’t see her fidgeting, “But, well… I’m your sister.”
“My sister?,” he asked, his face contorted into disbelief.
His eyes wandered over her as though trying to reconcile the different color eyes and hair, the differences in height and stature.
“Half-sister,” she amended, because she didn’t like the way his appraisal left her feeling substandard. “I’m Myrcella Baratheon. My father…our father met your mother three years before I was born. He… they…”
“Fucked,” he supplied harshly and it took every bit of strength in her not to flinch. “I know the story. Your father seduced my Mum, told her he was going to leave his wife - his perfect, rich wife who I’ll bet looks just like you - and then left her pregnant and alone.”
“He found out my mother was pregnant too…,” she tried to explain though she wasn’t entirely sure why she was making excuses for him. Maybe because he was dead and he’d never get to apologise himself, never get to make Gendry understand. Maybe because in spite of everything else he was, he was still her father, “He… he always regretted it. He told me… before he died. He asked me to find you.”
“And why would he do that exactly?,” Gendry asked.
He let out a harsh chuckle, shaking his head, his fist clenching.
You look just like him.
“So neither of us would be alone,” she said softly.
This was worse though, than being alone. The look of hatred in his eyes, it was worse than just about everything.
“Aren’t you from some big family or something?,” he asked her, “Aren’t you practically royalty down south? What do you know about being alone, Princess?”
She felt her cheeks redden and her blood boil. Who was he to tell her what she knew? He didn’t know her. She wasn’t even the reason their father left him. That was Joffrey. She was just a part of trying to make it work between her parents.
“More than you might imagine,” she said primly.
He looked her up and down again and nodded, “If that’s so then you’ll recognise what walking away looks like, but here, let me show you.”
With that he grabbed his bag and walked off in the other direction, not even towards campus but back across the field, towards the woods. She watched him get smaller and smaller, though it felt to her that she was the one shrinking.
I’m sorry Dad.
She turned and walked briskly through the quad, willing herself not to cry. She hadn’t cried since her Dad died, and that was two years ago. This was different, she hadn’t lost anything, it was foolish to be upset about something you never actually had.
Even still her vision was getting blurry so she didn’t see the russet haired boy until she was nearly next to him. He was talking to some beautiful girl with auburn hair and long legs but he abandoned her to fall into step beside her.
“Hey so how do you know Gendry?,” he asked her curiously.
“I don’t,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
“Aw don’t be upset about him, he’s only got eyes for one girl. My sister, and she’s terrifying. It makes him a bit gruff around other beautiful girls,” he said with a grin.
“That’s not -,” she said, trying desperately to brush away the tears that were now stubbornly falling.
“Woah, woah, woah,” he said, tugging gently on her arm, “Was it something I said? I…”
He was looking down at her earnestly with his warm blue eyes and it only made her want to cry harder so she wrenched her arm away from him with as much dignity as she could muster.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“You don’t look fine,” he said softly.
He looked at her like he might offer to buy her a hot chocolate, like he’d listen to the whole story and say sweet, reassuring things. He looked like he pitied her.
Myrcella had never been pitied in her entire life and she couldn’t bear to be looked at like a stupid little girl once more today.
“Well it’s none of your business,” she said harshly.
He flinched as though she’d struck him, his warm blue eyes widening in alarm. She turned on her heel and walked away and he didn’t follow her.
It was what she wanted, to be alone.
Even still it somehow felt like she had lost two things in as many minutes.