A night on the town

Posted on Thu Nov 4th, 2021 @ 4:43pm by Lady Myrcella Lannister

Mission: The Iron Price
Location: Flea Bottom, Kings Landing
Timeline: 4th Day of the 12th moon, 404AC

A servant dressed in the clothes of a scullery maid made their way to the bedchamber of one of the Lannister twins, a simple red package in hand with a note attached. She opened the door to the young lady's bedroom, knowing that she wasn't there. She placed her package in a place where she knew Myrcella would find it and then slinked away, avoiding being seen.

Following a particularly dull morning meal with her sister and their Septa, Lady Myrcella was intent on returning to her chambers to be alone and read. She nearly ran from the garden, only to be met with a nondescript red package and a note. Mycella lifted the note and read.

'Mycella,

I want to take you on an adventure. Dress in the clothes I've sent you and meet me outside the garden wall. Be sure you are not seen.

Ser Edric Martell.'

Myrcella pursed her lips, unsure of how to react. She set the note aside and opened the red package. It appeared to be the clothing of the common folk of Kings Landing. A simple dress in a pale blue. It looked vaguely inspired by the styles worn in the Vale, as brought to the capital by Waynn's queen and her court ladies, but it was clearly simplified. The neck was high, the winged sleeves were long. To Myrcella it was ghastly, but it would be fun to pretend and explore the city. After some hesitation she dressed, fixed her hair to better match the clothes, and slipped out of the manse to the garden and quietly over the wall.

Edric had been leaning against the wall in his own common clothing, a less lavish version of the style that had been brought to King's Landing from the Vale. Their clothes indicated they were smallfolk of modest means, but not part of the starving mass that inhabited Fleabottom and places in the city of that sort. Edric wore black pants and a white shirt that, though a bit dingy, looked well maintained. When he saw Myrcella lower herself down beside him, he grinned and stepped away from the wall.

"You're the prettiest commoner I ever saw." he said, looking at her with intense eyes as he parroted the accent of the King's Landing smallfolk; considering he was a Dornish lordling and knight, it was pretty good. He decided, however, to return to his normal pattern of speech for the time being. "It's good to see you again."

"I'm certain it is." Mycella said, brushing down the front of her outfit. "Where are we going?" She asked, her voice laced with both curiosity and her typical annoyance.

"That depends." he said, unshaken by her annoyed tone. She was here, so he knew she was interested in what was next. "on what you've always wanted to do if you could ever slip your guards."

Edric knew how the life of a guarded person could feel confined and preplanned. Maybe she was the sort of girl who liked that security, but he suspected she wanted a chance at some excitement.

Mycella shrugged. "I would love to try some ale in a public house." She stated, feeling rather scandalous.

Edric had snuck away many times in his life, so he understood what a thrill this seemed for a lady. He'd gathered some information about some of the Cities best common taverns and he'd settled on one in the case that she would want to go. The Dragon's Flagon was known to be both common, well-frequented, and generally safe. He offered her a smile.

"I know just the place." he said evenly. "Just remember not to talk like...yourself. If they discover how high born we are the fun will be over very fast."

Myrcella nodded. "Very good M'Lord." She smiled slyly, following Edric's lead. Lionshead Hall was near the Dragon Gate, not so far from Flea Bottom.

Edric set off toward their destination, being careful to stay next to Myrcella as they went. This was an adventurous outing, but it might also be dangerous for them indeed if someone found out who they were. Some fools might think of a ransom, but as far as he was concerned, they would get his dagger instead. As they walked along the dusty road approaching the slums of Kings Landing, he looked over at his companion with a smile.

"Aren't you worried your family will find out about this?" he asked. "From the way it seems to me, they keep you and your sister buttoned up pretty tightly in Lionsmane Keep. I half expected you wouldn't be able to sneak away."

"Lionshead Hall." Myrcella corrected. "My Lord Father has been occupied with my brother Steffon, and Mother is more concerned with Myrielle than me. I can come and go as I please without much protest. I just don't usually."

"So, you're the one with all the freedom in the world." Edric commented as they made a turn down a busy lane. The clothing became incrementally poorer as they went along and the manner of speech of the locals became courser and more full with curse words. Edric's eyes fell on a portly man pushing a cart full of bread. He looked at Myrcella with a straight face and spoke again.

"Did you hear about the baker that robed a bank in the city?"

Myrcella looked at him, utterly confused by the question.

"He just ran into the building, buns glazing." he responded dryly, rather confident his joke would land.

Suppressing an eye roll , Myrcella smiled instead. “Where did you hear that, from a scullery maid?”

"No, but close." he said. "I got that one from a burly pastry chef in Sunspear. He loved telling jokes almost as much as he loved eating his creations. I had plenty of both when he served my father. Do you know any good jokes?"

Myrcella had to think hard. "What stopped winter from coming?" She asked, putting on her best lowborn drawl. The waited a moment and smiled to herself.

He looked at her curiously, amused by her accent as much as by his anticipation of the punch line. "I don't know, what?"

"Winterfell and it couldn't get up!" She burst into a rather obnoxious snorting sort of laugh. She thought herself rather clever for remembering that one.

Edric laughed along with her, watching her as she cackled. Once the laughter subsided, he gave her an interested grin. “That one is rather funny; don’t suppose you learned it from a Stark though?"

Myrcella shook her head. "One of our Septas at the Rock." She had a momentary lapse in her small folk accent, but recovered. "Are we almost there?"

The scores of small-folk seemed to multiply as the came to the end of the small road they had been walking down. At the very end sat a large but rickety tavern with chipped and faltering cobblestones for a sidewalk and men and women standing outside or sitting on the ground talking and sharing tales. It was a place of great interest, and a hub of activity for the poorer folk of Fleabottom.

"Here it is." Edric said, gesturing toward the gathering and the Dragon's Flagon behind them. "And, for the sake of your virgin ears, its perhaps for the best we've come at midday rather than waiting for the setting sun. It can get rather...debauched around here in the dark."

Myrcella was nervous. "After you." She said, her voice dripping with and Flea Bottom drawl.

Edric grabbed hold of her hand without warning and pulled her past the portal of the building and into the dank interior. The room was busy enough, even though it was midday. In the old days, idle small folk could be punished for lazing about during the day, but now there was an abundance of people who worked very little and stole what they could not afford.

“What’ll ya have?” Said the barkeep, his eyes lingering on the two of them with obvious interest. “We don’t have mulled wine here or any of that. I’m afraid you might be wanting something more upscale.”

Clearly he saw through their disguises and could tell they were wealthier than they let on, but Edric gave a calm and self-assured smile.

“If you’ve got ale, we’ll take that.” He said in his fake accent, which now seemed painfully inaccurate.

“Two ales coming up.”

Edric pulled her gently to a seat in the corner of the room, taking note of all the eyes that fell on them. Once they were seated, he smiled at her.

“Perhaps we should have rolled around in the mud before we came, eh? Or spent some time with some pigs.”

Myrcella was taken a bit aback by Edric's assertion. "Or maybe we should have found a place we might look less conspicuous."

“Absolutely impossible.” He said with a smile, looking her straight in the eyes at her criticism. “Look at you, you’re beautiful with a full body and flowing, oft-brushed golden hair. And , for me, a man could not get this strong without the feeding and training of a Lord. Face it, we’re just too good to be counted out. But we can pretend, and most of these people are willing to play along”

He spoke like he had done this before and showed no concern it wouldn’t be an enjoyable experience.

“If you’re to be my Lady Wife, you must have a sense of adventure, you know.”

"If I'm to be your Lady Wife, you need to ask." Myrcella raised a brow inquisitively.

“You’re changing the subject.” He said in response, leaning back slightly. The barkeep sat their ales down on the table in front of them and lingered only a little while before moving away. Edric grabbed his cup and took a healthy gulp of it before placing it on the table again. “So, tell me all the wonderful places you’ve been, common girl.”

He spoke the last part with his best Kingslander accent again and a slight smile.

Myrcella rolled her eyes. She was used to being rather direct and getting what she wanted. She picked up her mug of ale and took a long sip. Palcing it aside, she swallowed and coughed slightly. "You're the one changing the subject." She said firmly. "I'm risking a lot being out with you unsupervised, accepting gifts from you, drinking with you. All I'm asking is for assurances about my future."

"And all I'm asking for is that you have a good time with me. You wouldn't be here if you weren't interested in having a good time, would you?" he said evenly. "We can talk about future arrangements once we're back in normal clothing. Relax, have some drinks, and play along."

Suspicion grew in Myrcella. "Listen." She said. "I am the daughter of Lord Myles Lannister, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands and Warden of the West. I'm one of the most eligible maidens in the Six Kingdoms. I am all for fun, but I must have certain assurances in order to continue to play along."

Edric shook his head, saying nothing for several long moments. He didn’t seem frustrated, but rather just slightly more interested in the room than he was in what was being said now. He grabbed his Ake and finished it in one gulp. Slamming it down on the table, he looked at her with a slight smile.

“Sorry, love, but no. It’s not personal, it’s just. You’re a bit of a bore right now.” He said, frankly, strongly, but with no cruelty. “And, if I’m honest, I prefer to do the bedding before the wedding; better to see if we’re right for each other. If that’s not what you want right now, or if you’re really one of those buttoned up girls who want rules, and structure, and the approval of her dad, I can respect that and move on.”

It was then that Myrcella got to her feet. She took the bracelet Edric had gifted her in her garden and tossed it on the table. "This is a farce." She said, her voice was perhaps a little louder than it ought to be. "Go back to Dorne where you belong."

“You’re overreacting.” Edric said, watching her stand up and express her irritation. “It’s not a farce. I’m being very straightforward and honest with you about what I want. You can’t see that because you’re upset, but it’s true. If it’s not what you want, as I said, I will respect that.”

He noticed the eyes of those who had taken notice, not many, and then looked back at her.

“I saw you and I could tell how unhappy you were with the same old routines. I brought you out here so that you could experience something novel. You should sit down, take the bracelet back, and just talk with me and we can see where it goes. If you don’t want to dismiss this potential, at least allow me to walk you home. You’re likely to be accosted by yourself.”

"I'd rather take my chances in the streets." Myrcella spat. "Safe travels back to Dorne." She turned and started towards the door.

Edric watched as she left, a less-than-surprised look on his face. He then shot up, paid their bill at the bar with some extra to spare, and set off trailing Myrcella from far behind to make sure no dangers befell her as she stormed from the slum.

Myrcella tripped ever so slightly on the uneven street and caught a glimpse of Edric following her. She turned quite quickly to face him. "You'll stop stalking behind me, or I'll call for the City watch."

"Do what you must, Myrcella," Edric said, still approaching. Now that his cover had been blown, he quickened his pace slightly. "There's no world in which I allow you to walk home unattended from a place like this. I'm responsible for your safety and I won't see you harmed."

He spoke definitively, clearly having no interest in debating the issue. Pausing in front of her, he crossed his strong arms under his chest and gave a subtle smirk. "Walk in front of me if you want to, My Lady, or call the guard, but you aren't going on your own."

"Suit yourself." Myrcella said, her eyes fluttered as she conjured tears for her performance. "Help!" She screamed, ripping the sleeve of her dress and falling to her knees. "Please, guards help!!"

Edric looked at the woman as if she were completely insane, not moving a muscle between the instant she fell to the ground and the moment two rather clean-looking men approached the two of them. They weren't guards but common folk, though they seemed to be well-meaning. Edric gave a slightly confused expression to them. Goldcloaks didn't come down this way often and people in the area tended to look after each other more than in wealthier parts.

"All a misunderstanding, men." Edric said with the confidence of a young man who had bested his share of men in joust and fight. The fingers on his right hand itched for his sword, but he stopped himself from reaching for it. "The girl has clearly lost her mind. I haven't laid a finger on her."

He turned to face the men, towering over them in his size and brimming with a less-than-sublte masculine energy.

"Move along, now. She's my responsibility."

Myrcella's tears continued "He's lying. He wants to have his way with me, and take my maidenhead. He said so. Please help."

Edric didn't look as surprised as he felt on the inside, but instead just shook his head in amazement at her lying.

"You lying cunt," he said under his breath, remarking to himself. Then he looked at the two men who had each taken an additional step toward Myrcella and himself. "This is Lady Myrcella Lannister and I am Sir Edric Martell, Lord Marshall of Sunspear and heir to the Kingdom of Dorne. It is my responsibility to get her back safely, despite or, because of, her childish behavior. I sincerely hope, men, that you do not expect to stand in my way."

At that point, he half drew his sword from its scabbard, the polished silver glistening in the light of the sun. He had a face of utter cold confidence, like a man who could kill with a sword as competently as he could do any mundane task. He would see what their next move would be.

The gathered men dispersed, leaving Myrcella to whatever wrath Edric might have in store for here after her dramatics.

After a beat, the Lannister girl stood and brushed the dirt from her skirts. "Since you seem quite headstrong and determined in this, perhaps I will have to tell my Father and brothers about your quest to steal my maidenhead, and your threats to the men who came to my aid."

“Tell them, if you like.” He said with a shrug, approaching her with a subtle frown that communicated how little he cared. “You’re acting like a child, by the way. A disgrace. And all the small folk are seeing you. Now, let me get you safely home since you are so intent on returning to your septa.”

Myrcella gasped slightly. "I am intent on returning to company where I am respected and treated like a lady of proper birth. Not the common slut you seem to want in me."

“A common slut is better than the shrill and superior girl you’ve been.” He said, grabbing hold of her hand with some insistence, though not roughly, and pulling her along the street toward the edge of the neighborhood. “I took you for someone who wanted something else out of life besides the normal path; the formal way. I thought you were less conventional than you are. Perhaps your dreams will come true and your father will sell you to a dignified old Westerman with bad breath and a tiny cock. At least you’ll have your virtue.”

Pulling her hand back, Myrcella spat at Edric. " I will not be led around like a horse. You insist I must be escorted, fine. But I will not be led."

Edric turned from her without acknowledging her comment. He escorted her without words through the streets and out of the slums until they came, at last, back to Lionshead Hall. He paused outside the wall where he had met her, far away from the guards at the front gate. He turned to her and offered a half smile.

"I should apologize, I think." he said, having used their moments of silence to reflect on how their time together had panned out. "You must forgive me saying it, my Lady, but my advances are typically most welcome. I suppose I took your willingness to bend the rules with me as a sign of more..carnal interests. I was surprised when you were resistant to flirtation; an amateur's mistake. I shall respectfully keep my distance if that is what you would like. You deserve every happiness in the future you desire for yourself."

"I know." Mycella said, without looking his way. She started to walk away. "I would suggest you not linger around Lionshead Hall."

Watching her walk away, Edric gave a shrug. Perhaps there was something to his family's disdain for the Lannisters after all. Arrogant, cruel, and rigid. He understood it would be their downfall. Perhaps what he could not conquer in the bedroom, he would conquer on the battlefield.