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Arya glared down at the perfectly empty ornate china tea cup that she was being forced into pretending was a real drink. She hated these hours spent where they would make her play with Myrcella because they were ‘more or less the same age’. It wasn’t that she hated Myrcella, she was a nice enough girl, quiet and sweet not stuck up and opinionated like Sansa was, it was just they were completely different. Arya begged Myrcella, just one could they go for a ride or pretend they were pirates or jump on her massive four poster bed but she’d always make her bottom lip wobble until her Septa commanded Arya to play with the dolls or the tea set or do needlework and be grateful for it. Well, she wasn’t grateful, she was bored.
This afternoon the Septa had been called away, she was looking after Tommen or something to that effect, Arya hadn’t really been listening.
“Can’t we do something else?” Arya complained, putting down her tea cup.
“What?” Myrcella asked, her eyes beginning to tear up.
“It doesn’t have to be something you don’t like.” Arya said quickly. “It can be a nice game. What about ‘Dragons’? I’ll be the dragon and you can be the princess?” Arya tried to make it seem as appealing a game as possible but Myrcella just shook her head. “What then?”
“I want to be the princess.” Myrcella conceded.
“I said you could be.” Arya sighed.
“But you can be a prince, not a dragon.” Myrcella nodded, pleased with her decision.
“I...No! I can’t be the prince, I’m not a boy!”
“Sansa says you act like a boy and you look like a boy.” Myrcella said, looking like butter wouldn’t dare melt in her mouth.
“Fine! You get up there then.” Arya pointed over to her bed. “And I’ll come and rescue you.”
Myrcella climbed up the bed post, a lot nimbler than her gentle nature would have led Arya to suppose. When she got to the top, she looked around her nervously. “Help?” She called down to Arya.
“Don’t fret, princess, I will save you.” Arya leaned out of her balcony window and snapped a branch of a nearby tree. If she was going to be a prince then she was going to have a sword.
“I don’t like it.” Myrcella said, tears once again forming in her eyes but Arya had a feeling this time they were real.
“Oh, come on. You’re barely up there.” Arya said as soothingly as she could.
“What if I fall?”
Arya dropped her stick, holding out her arms to the other girl. “I’ll catch you.”
“You promise?” Myrcella asked, still not letting go.
“I promise.”
Myrcella loosened her hands and legs from the bedpost, letting herself slide until she was low enough to reach Arya’s arms. She let Arya put them on her waist and pry her from the bed post, falling onto the bed under the sudden weight of her.
“Thank you!” Myrcella threw her arms around Arya’s neck, burying her face in it. “You really are my prince.”
Arya nearly rolled her eyes but she decided to play along, eager to keep the game going. “May I have a token of my lady’s esteem?” She said, it was something she’d once heard a knight say to her mother.
“You may kiss my hand.” Myrcella held out her hand and Arya took it, putting her lips to it for a second before drawing back. Myrcella blushed like a good princess should and Arya couldn’t help but notice how prettily the pink of her cheeks clashed with her golden hair. She leaned in and kissed one of her cheeks, right where the pink was at its deepest.
“My lady.” She said afterwards, pretending it was part of the game.
Myrcella’s blush grew deeper and she bowed her head, like she truly thought Arya was a prince. Arya caught her chin and pushed her luck, knowing that for her at least, it wasn’t a game anymore. She brushed her lips over Myrcella’s and waited to be pushed away. When she wasn’t, she let her hand come up to the princess’ face, her thumb tracing the line of her cheek bone delicately, more delicate than she had ever been with anything in her life.
On some level she knew doing this was wrong but she couldn’t remember why. She remembered the other girls talking, mostly Sansa’s friends, about curiosity and experimenting but they had always talked about such things being done with boys. She also remembered more than just kissing but she was happy enough with just her lips on Myrcella’s lips and her hand on her face.
After that playing with Myrcella wasn’t so bad. She would offer to brush her silky gold hair, just so that she could run her hands through it and over her neck. She behaved herself so that the Septa started to trust them and would often sit outside on the balcony and do her own needlework, leaving her and Myrcella inside to play Prince and Princess.