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They meet at some sleazy bar where smoke hovers like a second atmosphere and the beer is cheap. Myrcella is already on her third beer when he sits next to her. She eyes him; dark hair and dark eyes with a smile that said he owned the world. He catches her eyes, and looks her up and down.
‘’ You sure you’re in the right place?’’ Myrcella looks down at the crimson dress and the gold heels that accompany them- an ensemble that her mother had made her wear.
‘’ It’s been a long day.’’ Unconsciously she touches the cut that is newly bandaged; a trophy from her brother when he had decided to come at her. She had called him an asshole and he had slashed her face up with a broken champagne glass. That had been it for the gala they were to have attended.
Myrcella had been driven to the hospital and spent the next several hours getting her face stitched and being lectured by her mother on how not to provoke her brother. She had walked from the hospital to the dingy bar after that.
‘’I see.’’ He orders them two more beers while she starts to sweat from the heat that intertwines with smoke, and she is grateful for the cold drink when it hits her parched throat. More than anything the man seems amused by her as he clinks her already half-full beer bottle with his. ‘’ To easier days,’’ He says smiling.
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The next time she sees him she is on her break. After the glass incident she had moved out of her parent’s house and into her own little dingy apartment where the sink barely worked, she slept on a couch, and come June she was going to be sweating bullets- but she was away from her family and that was all that mattered. Myrcella only wished she could have taken Tommen with her.
Now she worked at The Trident, a half decent place; famous for the shoot out that had gone down just twenty years past. Myrcella supposes it’s a bit masochistic to work here, but it pays decently and tips are good- only if she unbuttons two of the buttons on her work blouse and ignores the leers.
She takes a cigarette out of her purse and checks her watch; five minutes left, Myrcella rummages through her purse for her lighter only to come up empty. Shit.
‘’Need a light?’’ She turns her gaze to see the man who had been at the bar six months earlier. Myrcella nods and leans towards the flame, taking in dark eyes and sun kissed skin with appreciation. When she is satisfied she leans back against the brick wall; blowing out a puff of smoke and breathing in the cool night air.
‘’ Thanks.’’ She says finally. The man nods and goes to stand next to her and takes out a cigarette of his own and lights it. For a few minutes they both stand in silence as they watch the smoke curl and mix with their breath; both disappearing into the chilly night air. Myrcella checks her watch again before dropping her half used cigarette onto the asphalt and crushing it with her heel. She pushes herself from the wall, already feeling the absence of the warmth his body had permeated, and turns toward the bar where she can hear rowdy yelling and even louder music. ‘’ Thanks again for the light.’’ She calls over her shoulder with a wave.
‘’ Hey, I never did get your name!’’ Myrcella turns back to him, still walking towards the entrance, and gives him a smile.
‘’ It’s Myrcella.’’ She turns back and makes sure to swivel her hips just a little.
‘’Mine’s Trystane.’’ Myrcella does not turn back, but gives him another wave as she pushes her way back into the stifling building.
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The third time she sees him she is at a club with her cousin- or she had been. Myrcella had long ago lost Rose in the crowds and was now content to nurse her White Russian at the bar.
‘’You know I would say we have to stop meeting like this, but that would just be cliché.’’ She does not look up, but instead smiles to herself as she hears the familiar voice.
‘’ It still sounds clichéd.’’ Myrcella stretches and finally turns her attention to Trystane.
He smirks, ‘’ that’s a shame.’’ She takes in his appearance carefully; dark button shirt and pants, and a watch that says he’s got money. Myrcella bites her lip and takes in the way his eyes seem to darken- even in this dim light.
They end up at his place. She unbuttons his shirt with enough haste to send some to the floor, and he nearly rips her dress in half; to Myrcella it a flurry of clothes and naked skin.
She arches against him and grabs handfuls of his dark hair as he kisses and nips at her body. It is a pleasurable blur after that.
She wakes up in the morning with a headache, and looking around at the penthouse and the man next to her she decides to pull on her clothes and leave.
When Rose asks where she was a few days later, Myrcella just shakes her head.
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The fourth time she sees him she is passing him in the street. She is trying to balance a coffee in one hand and her history book in another when she bumps into him.
‘’ Hey.’’ She says.
‘’Hey.’’ He mumbles back. They both stand in the early summer air, trying not to meet each other’s eyes. Just when she is about to move past him and try to forget every time she has ever met him; he holds out his hands.
‘’Trystane Martell.’’ Her eyes widen as she takes in the last name, and about a half a million curses run through her mind as she shakes his hand once.
‘’ Myrcella Baratheon.’’ His mouth opens once, and then twice, before he speaks again.
‘’ Arianne’s going to kill me.’’
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They’re friends after that. It’s not exactly easy with her name, but after she tells him she really doesn’t talk to anyone from her family, except for the occasion call to Tommen; it gets easier after that.
He is the first to call her after all hell breaks loose.
Her brother is poisoned.
The Lannister’s and Stark’s are at war, and she secretly calls Tommen at the end of everyday just hear his voice; just know he’s alive.
Her grandfather is murdered and her uncle is on the run.
She doesn’t go to any of the funerals.
When the truth of her parentage comes out he is the one to hold her and tell her that she isn’t a monster, and the next day he comes over to her with documents that proclaim her as Myra Hill, and she has never been more grateful.
At the end of it all Myrcella tells Trys that she is tired of this life, and he will press a kiss to her lips and then he will move his lips to her cheek and trace the scar that lays there.
‘’ We all are love.’’