GILDED PRISON

Author's Note: This is a non-profit fanfiction based on A Song of Ice and Fire. It is part of a larger story world I plan to adapt into an original novel. All names, places, and affiliations may change in the future.

ROBB

The distant glow had been visible for hours, a golden halo on the horizon that grew steadily brighter as their ship approached. Now, standing at the bow as night fell, Robb Stark found himself stunned into silence despite his determination to remain unimpressed.

Yin sprawled before him, impossibly vast, a constellation of lights that rivaled the stars above. The capital of YiTi was unlike anything he had imagined in his darkest moments of captivity. Winterfell—proud, ancient Winterfell with its great stone walls and towers—could have been placed twenty times over within what he now beheld and still leave room for the Winter Town.

"We arrive during the Summer's End Festival," Princess Ruyan said, appearing beside him like a shadow. Her voice betrayed no emotion, as coldly efficient as always. "The city is particularly lively tonight."

Robb kept his face carefully neutral, fighting to control the awe that threatened to betray him. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing his wonder. "I've seen markets in White Harbor. A city is a city."

Ruyan's lips tightened almost imperceptibly. "We'll transfer to a royal barge shortly. We'll navigate the inner canals to reach the imperial rest house where you'll stay initially."

The ship glided into the massive harbor where hundreds of vessels were anchored. Lanterns hung from every mast and bow, creating the illusion of a second, floating city. As they drew closer, Robb could distinguish the shapes of immense pagodas rising tier upon tier, their curved roofs gleaming with gold that caught the last rays of the setting sun. In the fading light, bridges arced gracefully over canals that wove throughout the city like silver ribbons.

The sounds reached him next: bells chiming from countless towers, distant music played on instruments he couldn't name, the hum of thousands—no, hundreds of thousands—of voices. And the smells: spices he had never encountered, foods being cooked in street stalls, incense burning in temples, and beneath it all, the familiar tang of the sea.

Against his will, a single word formed in his mind: magnificent.

The royal barge proved to be a floating palace, with carved dragons adorning its hull and silken canopies sheltering its deck. As they stepped aboard, servants bowed low, their foreheads nearly touching the polished wood.

"The people believe we are minor nobles returning from a trade expedition," Ruyan explained as she led him to the bow. "No announcements of your presence will be made until my father deems it appropriate."

The barge slipped silently through the waters, guided by skilled pilots who navigated the crowded harbor with practiced ease. As they entered the main canal, Robb found himself surrounded by the city proper.

Buildings of lacquered wood and stone rose on either side, their architecture alien yet undeniably beautiful. Balconies overflowed with flowering plants. Bridges so delicate they appeared to be made of lace connected upper levels. And everywhere, people moved like schools of fish, dressed in silks of every color imaginable.

"We will dine at the Golden Lotus tonight," Ruyan said, gesturing toward a four-story structure whose upper balconies offered views across the city. "It's a favored establishment for nobles who wish to remain... discreet."

The meal that followed was served on a private balcony that overlooked a vista of Yin by night. Each dish was more exotic than the last—delicate dumplings filled with spiced meats, seafood still moving on the plate, fruits he had never seen before. Robb ate mechanically, his attention repeatedly drawn to the city that spread beneath them, now fully illuminated as darkness had fallen.

From this height, Yin resembled a massive living creature, pulsing with light and movement. Lanterns lined every street and canal, their reflections dancing on the water. In distant squares, performers entertained crowds with displays of fire and acrobatics. Paper lanterns rose into the night sky like stars returning to the heavens.

Despite himself, Robb broke his silence. "How many people live here?"

A ghost of satisfaction flickered across Ruyan's face at his question. "In the capital alone? More than two million souls."

The number was incomprehensible. The entire North might hold that many people, spread across thousands of leagues. To think of them all gathered in one place...

"Tomorrow you will see it by day," Ruyan continued, sipping delicately from a porcelain cup. "Tonight, we proceed to the imperial rest house where you'll begin the next phase of your education."

After the meal, they returned to the barge, continuing their journey through the city's arterial waterways. Gradually, the density of buildings decreased, and Robb spotted more gardens and parks. The canal widened into a lake, and there, rising from the water itself, was a complex of buildings more fantastic than anything he had yet seen.

Pagodas and pavilions seemed to float on the water's surface, connected by graceful bridges. Giant lily pads dotted the spaces between structures. The entire complex was illuminated by lanterns that cast shimmering reflections across the still water.

"Your chambers are there," Ruyan indicated a central pavilion. "The middle structure, on the elevated first floor. You'll have a view of the gardens when you wake."

As the barge docked at a marble pier, Robb finally spoke the thought he had been suppressing all evening.

"You kidnapped me to show me all that," he said quietly, not looking at her. "To make me feel small. To make the North seem insignificant."

Ruyan's voice, when she answered, held none of its usual coldness. "No, Lord Stark. I brought you here to show you possibilities."

Robb said nothing more as servants guided him to his chambers. The room was larger than the Great Hall of Winterfell, appointed with furnishings of lacquered wood and silk. A bronze tub steamed with scented water. The bed could have slept ten.

After the servants departed, Robb stood alone at the window, watching the moonlight play across the water gardens. He thought of Winterfell's godswood, of the heart tree's solemn face, of the castle's ancient stones and the crypts below. Of his father's steady presence and his mother's warm smile. Of his brothers and sisters.

Home.

A wave of homesickness hit him so forcefully he had to grip the window frame for support. Yet even as he yearned for the North, he could not tear his eyes from the alien beauty that surrounded him.

"I will not be seduced by this place," he whispered to himself, a vow and a prayer. "I am a Stark of Winterfell, not a lordling to be enticed with luxuries."

But as he finally lay down to sleep, Robb couldn't help wondering what other wonders—and dangers—the empire of YiTi might hold.