The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Ghosts

Morganna spent her days in a perpetual state of frustration. Though Sansa spent much of her time outside their rooms praying, in the sept or in the godswood, she herself had never been so devout, and could not remain still that long. Weeks passed, where all she could do apart from sit in her chambers was pace restlessly around the walls and yard of the castle, trailed by Lannister red cloaks.

She and her cousin had been given freedom of the castle, a reward more likely due to Sansa's good behaviour, her compliance in writing the letter to their family, rather than anything Morganna had done. It was a laughable sort of freedom, though. Cersei had set an 'honour guard' to follow them, supposedly to protect her future gooddaughter, but even Sansa could see that it was to make sure they didn't try and escape. Not that that would've been possible anyway, with the walls heavily guarded and nowhere to go even if they made it out.

Having found the room they were housed in to be unescapable after only a few hours in there, she spent three more days trying to disprove this - predictably to no avail - but even she wasn't stupid enough to try slipping past the guards when the maids brought their meals. If she made it past the ones on the door, she wouldn't make it out of Maegor's Holdfast, and she certainly wouldn't make it out of the Red Keep, unless she fancied throwing herself off the walls into the sea. That was still an option, of course, and an escape of sorts, but one she had shelved for the moment. So far, living under King Joffrey was still not quite so bad as certain death. 

When the queen had given them permission to leave their rooms but not the castle itself, that had opened up a whole knew set of opportunities. Even with the guards trailing them, Morganna knew she had a chance of being able to slip away if she was quick enough, perhaps even slipping out of the castle, though the alarm would be raised immediately and she had no idea where she would even go if she made it out. 

The girl she was less than a month ago likely would have tried it. Morganna hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was warier now, after the cruel fiasco that had been her and Lizzie's attempt at fleeing the city. She still bore the marks from that day; the back of her head was still tender even three weeks later, and where she had hit the ground her face had initially been an attractive shade of purple, dotted with grazes and scrapes from the debris on the cobbles. The cuts had mostly healed, but the bruises had faded into an even lovelier shade of greenish-yellow, as had the ones on her arms where the men had grabbed her, and hauled her to the castle. 

She had gotten off lightly, though. Morganna didn't even want to think of what had happened to Lizzie. The last time she had seen her former handmaid had been her disappearing into a dingy alley with that gold cloak man, all to get them out. All for nothing.

Sansa had asked her of Lizzie, that morning in fact, the first time since this madness had started. Morganna, her mood worsening steadily the longer they were imprisoned, had snapped something at her, which had only served to make her cousin snippy in return. Irritated, unable to be bothered with another argument, Morganna had left their chambers, scowling. 

Her mood hadn't been improved by the usual display from the other courtiers towards her - avoiding catching her eye, but looking curiously after her, muttering behind their hands about traitorous northmen and the barely civilised people - but she didn't want to see them affecting her, so made a point of smiling her widest, most dazzling smile at each one. She hoped it was unnerving. 

Morganna usually made a point of avoiding the gardens of the keep, preferring the relative solitude and trees of the godswood - or even better, walking on the walls with the sea breeze blowing in her hair and looking out at leagues of nothingness - to the fragrant flowers and perfectly neat beds of the gardens. However, that day she was passing the entrance and saw a flash of golden hair moving through the archway, immediately making a beeline to follow without waiting for her guards to catch up.