Hi everyone! This is gonna be a short one. Sorry the update has taken a while. The new season seems to have helped a bit with the writer's block. Thank you for your support and encouragement in the meantime.

Skip the italicized paragraphs responding to some criticisms if you just want to get to the summary :)

Just wanted to make a quick note about Myra. I've gotten some messages about how her character is weak and in constant need of saving. That was never my intention with this character. As I said in a previous author's note Myra shares a lot of characteristics with my grandma (who was one of the most capable but human people I knew). Looking back at the story I suppose I get how she comes across that way, but she has probably physically saved Bran, Rickon, and Robb more times than they have saved her.

On the flipside I understand that maybe there's a desire to see her as a Mary Sue (capable then perfectly needy the next minute) but I wanted to show a realistic relationship between her and Robb. Where they BOTH protect each other and balance each other. Basically do better as a team than apart. And even so Myra and Robb still have their arguments (Jaime, Theon, running of the keep, the children, general lack of communication). And Bran hasn't fully come back around to her, their closeness isn't there anymore (yet to be decided if it ever will return) and Rickon has yelled at her so many times I've forgotten them all. Bo has felt betrayed by her, Abby jealous, Mal mistrustful of her judgement around Jaime. Jaime has despised her. Myra isn't good at dealing with her emotions either, she not crazy strong or weak, to me she spends most of her time being scared and unsure of herself while trying to do her best and still, despite that, feeling wrong.

I'm sorry if that's not coming across but I'll try to be better.

SUMMARY (forgive me if it's not thorough enough. I'm happy to answer any questions):

The North: Myra (24?) has been managing Winterfell and raising her children with a large serving of self doubt and loneliness [Mal (11), Abby (7), Bo (5), Gray (4 almost 5 - 'Irish twin' with Bo), Bridie (4), Kai and Tahl (17 months)]. Robb (25) has returned to Winterfell with Bran (18). Theon Greyjoy (26) does his best to stay out Robb's way with varied success. Bran wishes to take his seat at the Twins for some reason - perhaps the widowed Meera Dustin formerly Reed (23) who now sits at Barrowton with her son [Barben Dustin (5)]... Rickon (16) is going to join Robb when he returns to the fray. Myrcella Baratheon (18) remains a ward of the Starks along with her half brother - Kol (5). Jaime (39) and Brienne (28) fight at East Watch by the Sea with the Wildings that Jon (25) let past the Wall. Jon and the Red Woman remain grim at the Wall as more and more Wights slip by.

The South: Sansa (21) takes care of Arya's son [Con (4)] and Jaime and Brienne's dark haired twins [Caderyn and Tyken (22 months)]. Her daughter [Joni (3)] and son [Poderik (14 months)] with Tyrion (31) are healthy and happy. Tyrion spends much of time attempting to save his house and Sansa's from ruin, making deals and currying favour where he can. Sansa makes more of an effort to maintain her relationships with her remaining siblings including Jon. Tyrion attempts to keep the peace in the Westerlands while his father continues to decline in health. He believes Robb may have been responsible for a less than subtle attempt on Cersei's (39) life as a result of Cersei trying to trick Myrcella into feeding Myra berries that would cause Myra to miscarry, amongst other slights. Dorne is coming apart with civil war and secrets. The Vale continues to keep to itself under the rule of the sneaky Lord Baelish. The Reach under House Martell is still plundered routinely by the Greyjoys under Asha Greyjoy however it remains in the hands of King Tommen (15) who remains in the hands of his mother.

The East: Dany (25) thinks about her options based on the information she has.

Arya (20) is somewhere... I guess?

I think that's quite a long list/summary. Probably too much to front load the chapter with. Let me know if you'd like descriptions of the characters :)

Interlude – Missing

Myrcella held her hands clenched tightly together.

She had been in the North for seven years and while she could not say they had been long years exactly, they had not been quite comfortable. There had been a time when she had first visited Winterfell as a child when she had been more than enamoured with the thought of living in the North as Lady Stark herself. She could remember how smitten she had been with Robb Stark as a girl and now often thought of how distant that memory seemed from the way she felt.

These high collared Northern clothes still chaffed around her throat. Her long blonde hair stood out in the sea of black, brown, and russet. True the Queen's silvery locks stood out as well, but no one seemed to resent her for them.

Myrcella knew her hair held that gold that still elicited mistrust in so many people. Mistrust that she had no hand in incurring.

It seemed an age since she had seen her Uncles. She clung to those fleeting exchanges, small lights from a past life during her time here. A brief reminder of home. Where the sun always shone in the sky and garments were made of the softest silks and fruits were constant treats and any number of distraction was in abundance.

She would readily admit the North held its own sort of beauty though. Especially here in the glass garden. Myra had been wonderful, much more of a friend and confidant than any she could have claimed to have known in the Capital. Kol her little brot… her family here in this strange place had been a sweet reminder of her dearly longed for relatives. And the little Princes and Princesses of Winterfell were amusing and welcome company much of the time. They had grown quite attached, mimicking her use of the term 'Nucle' when address their Lannister kin. Myrcella's mouth lifted in a grin at the memory of Bridie running after her large grey direwolf, softly calling 'Mace', it took sometime for those listening to realize that Bridie was trying to say 'chase' in her little bell like voice... Yes. The children were truly very sweet. Yet sadly this continued to largely be a cold comfort when she was sorely missing her mother and brother.

"Princess." She let her green gaze linger on the carrots she had been digging up. Her mind drifted to wonder what her mother would think of her daughter's hands being calloused by this sort of labour. "Princess." The voice repeated from behind her.

"Yes," Myrcella sighed brushing the soil that was on her hands against her muddied work apron. "What is it I can help you with Rickon?"

As she turned to stand and face him, Myrcella could practically feel the unease dripping off of him.

She raised her emerald eyes slowly enough to allow him time to decide where he would direct his own anxious gaze. However, despite her effort, he managed to once again to only just focus his attention on the leaf of a tomato vine that was growing next to where he was currently standing, narrowly escaping her detection of his staring.

Myrcella was not a stranger to these types of looks as well. She spent a good deal of her childhood at court. But the bumbling manner in which the boy before her practiced this endeavour endeared her to him.

"You know I never liked it in here?" He spoke thickly, blindly looking about their surroundings, "Always too warm for my blood I suppose."

Myrcella gave an easy nod, they had discussed his distaste for the warmth many times before. "You seem to enjoy the gardens well enough as of late."

She couldn't help the smile on her lips when she took in the sight of pinking ears as he continued to play with the leaf of plant, accidentally snapping the fragile stem with his nervous fingers.

"Was there something you wanted?" She asked unable to conceal her amusement.

The auburn haired boy comically struggled to somehow try to stick the stem back to the vine. "Yes… Well…" he cleared his throat as his efforts were clearly not taking. "I am not sure if you are aware, but I have decided to go North with my brother in less than a moon's turn." He cleared his throat again, this time dusting the table upon which the potted plant sat with a sniff.

"I had heard such a rumour."

"And…"

Myrcella clasped her dainty yet no longer delicate hands in front of her body, "And?" She urged, though the blonde haired Princess had a fair idea as to where the young lord was heading.

"I had hoped…"

She found herself sighing again, sympathy welling her green eyes. "Rickon. We've discussed…"

"I know what we've discussed." He interrupted, abruptly moving forward to face her as he did. "You've discussed." He corrected himself with emphasis.

His eyes are so blue. Myrcella thought briefly of the skies her mind had been dwelling on.

Pushing the picture aside she made sure maintain her distance but to keep her voice gentle. "Rickon…"

She wondered if she should have been annoyed, but it was difficult to find enough malice in her heart for Rickon Stark. He was sweet, like a little boy with a sore thumb.

Even as she looked up at him now, she could not find it in herself to feel imposed upon by his growing form.

She knew that this silly infatuation was that of a boy's, not fit for a Lord of a Great House. And certainly not when she remained a ward of said Great House.

Myrcella again recalled from years ago her own fleeting feelings for Robb Stark and the childish thrill of excitement when she had been told she was betrothed to Trystane Martell well enough.

"You're still young. And-"

"I'm no more than 2 namedays younger than you, Princess."

Resisting the urge to crease her brow in concern, she tried again. "One day you'll find…"

"I don't care." He pouted the pout of a child.

"Ric…"

"I know you think I'll want someone else. One day I will see the truth in the blood that runs through your veins. You are a Lannister in every way." He moved closer, his pout gone. Myrcella noticed a small knot in her throat that she not felt before, his voice was different to how she had heard it in the past. "But I don't care." His rough hand reached out to pick up hers. She realized how soft her own still felt in comparison to his. "I want you to tell me tales of the gardens at King's Landing, of the honey cakes, of the tourneys, of hiding to steal kittens with Tommen, of crying in your sleep for reasons you do not understand." His grip on her tightened gently when she had flinched at his last assertion. "I don't care. You must know the way I feel for you. How I have come to care for you…" His voice was lower, deeper, softer now as he bowed his head slightly to meet her eye. She could not face him, she dropped her gaze, her lips trembling for some reason.

"Myrcella…"

She shivered despite herself.

"I want to hear your voice singing the gardens, to spy you laughing across the room, to protect you in whatever way I can."

She allowed his words to wash over her for breath.

He wants me.

No.

Myrcella shook her head. He wanted her talents, her beauty. He wanted her as a possession. These were the wants of a boy. She knew she was more than he could fully understand at his age, with treason and malice and any manner of vile thing coursing through her blood. Whatever his expressions and voice were doing to her now, she had to remember that he was just a boy.

"I go to war soon. I am not foolish. I know it may mean that I might never return. I do not ask for you to profess your love for me or to marry me before the Weirwood." His nose was brushing against hers now, her eyes had somehow fallen closed. "I only ask for your favour and a memory."

Myrcella was so distracted by the musky scent of the woods and snow which seemed to cling to him that she must have nodded, because quicker than she could react, she heard the draw of steel and felt the tug on her head of hair being pulled. Then the sudden release of it being cut. Her eyes blinked open, in the white light of the grey skies above Winterfell she let her mind return to focus on logic. On the truth.

It wasn't her that he wanted.

Not the way Nucle Tyrion wanted Lady Sansa. Not the way Nucle Jaime wanted Lady Brienne. And most certainly not the way King Robb wanted Queen Myra.

He wished for a plaything, but as she saw the sincerity in his blue sky eyes, she could not find the will to state the matter so plainly.

"Rickon…" she watched him carefully knot a length of her hair inside a bundle cloth, he lifted it to his nose for a moment before securing it inside his jerkin. "I will allow you that token, my friend." His gaze drew up sharply at her endearment. "But I'll have you part with me as such. I do not wish for there to be any misunderstanding. You are as a little brothe…"

"Please, your grace." The face of the young man before her had not moved since growing cold a moment ago. "I understand your meaning exactly." His voice was distant, making him feel further away though he had not taking anymore steps back. The sensation almost caused Myrcella to lurch forward herself to grasp hold of him. "I'll leave you to your day. I'm sorry to have trespassed on your time." He bowed from his waist, turning on heel and leaving Myrcella in the gardens, alone… once again.

Only, on this occasion she was left with a new peculiar feeling. Her mouth was open and her hands, now free from her conscious direction, reached out to grasp the empty air where Rickon had been standing. The water that had pooled in her eyes began to silently spill as she tried to name this feeling which held an ache so similar to that of regret.

Cersei Lannister held very few skills in artistry anymore. It had been an age and half since she had bothered with needlework. And since she painted or held a lyre it had been even longer.

No, all those flowery useless, arts fell away for the one true art that she had perfected.

Hate.

Her lips twitched in a small smile as she took in her most recent masterpiece.

Her only reason to smile anymore, other than her son and the memory of her daughter.

Memories. That was all she had left.

Her smile was fading. Cersei took another draught of wine. The tart sweetness on her tongue washed away the familiar bitterness that came with thoughts of her broken family.

She had Tommen.

He would be enough. Not as decisive and gloriously ruthless as Joff had been, but malleable. Easy to control. It had been eight tedious years and her work was paying off. Bit by bit she could see promising characteristics beginning to emerge in her youngest child.

The Faith Milant had finally served a purpose.

Tommen was angry. He felt useless. Nothing galvanized hate like failure.

He had failed to protect her. He had failed to protect his sister. He had failed to protect the little whore of Highgarden.

Cersei smiled again as she took yet another drink of her wine.

For the best. Cersei's green eyes roamed the opulent decorations of her sunlit bedchamber. The warmth of the Capital. Ned Stark and the rest of those Northern savages had always been going on about it.

Cersei could honestly say she had yet to feel that heat they all moaned about.

Whatever warmth the Capital held for her had resided solely in her children and at one time her traitorous twin brother.

She wanted to scoff. Who would have thought that after all the vows and the fucking her little brother would give her up? And not even for a beauty, but for a beast of a woman?

He must have lost part of his mind along with his hand.

But that was in the past.

There was no sense in wasting her thoughts on people of no significance.

In Westeros the East and West were now firmly in Lannister hands. If she could count her youngest brother as a Lannister.

Stannis Baratheon had met his end in the Riverlands, mutiny by his men when he had burned his daughter in some religious desperation. The fool.

Tommen was the only remaining Baratheon now. If only in name.

It fell to him to guard the Seven Kingdoms.

This Jon Snow harping on about the Others beyond the Wall, Olenna Tyrell the useless old twat, and the Dornish whores who had unseated Doran Martell in the South would all come heel now.

Soon she would accomplish what even her father could not for the Lannister name.

The Seven Kingdoms were in her grasp. And once the undead, if they really did exist in the numbers the Lord Commander spoke, finished off her enemies in the North then and only then she would deal with her enemy to the West.

She had done well to keep her Imp of a brother preoccupied with the threats that had been made on her life. The blonde woman smiled at the stories she had fed to little Tyrion thinking she may have cause to soften.

She took a strong drink from her cup to the victory that was surely close at hand.

Cersei could taste it.

The only variables that remained were these Dragon Queen as they styled themselves in the North and the East.

She should never have listened to her Imp brother. They should have waited out Robb Stark and sad excuse for an army. If even the people would have grown restless and may have revolted what would it have mattered? A few starving street rats for the Capital and her daughter remaining safely in her arms.

What the fuck had Tyrion ever known about family? About sacrifice?

He had his own spawn now. Though that little bitch from Winterfell must have found another to father them. Sansa Stark may have been a wretch but it remained that her sensibilities were too delicate to lay with such a deformed monster. Cersei smiled softly at the memory of the Stark girl's blanched face on her wedding day. The horror and Tyrion's fumbling attempts to maintain composure still brought some amusement for Cersei however fleeting.

Soon though she would have more cause to smile, if the Maester was to be believed...

Cersei stopped herself. She should enjoy her victory. Savour the feel of it.

Soon enough Myrcella would be returned to her. Soon enough Tyrion would understand the pain she had suffered all these long years. Soon enough those other would-be Queens would know exactly what fire tastes like.

So... thoughts? Apologies about the editing. Just a little filler chapter. I'd like to push the plot forward a bit faster but it seems my brain wants to dawdle... for a while at least. Hopefully you guys will find the patience to bear with me.

Thanks again for the support. It is appreciated! :)