The Last Stag • Game of Thrones

2.

Chapter Two.
A Very Old Name

For the past month, nightfall had brought Renfri visions of stars. 

They haunted her dreams. Glimmering, blinking stars hanging low in the night sky, the moon smiling down at her. And a raven-haired little boy at her side, staring up at them with her. In her dreams Renfri was still small, she still had buck-teeth and a chubby cheeks. The boy would whisper "I wonder if the moon knows that she shines for us?".

And then Renfri would be awake.

On this particular morning, all Renfri wanted to do was go back to sleep. Shove her face into her pillow, pull her covers over her head and return to her dreams about the stars and the little boy. 

Unfortunately, this was not an option for the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Is she up yet?" Renfri rose to hear her mothers voice, whispering to whom she guessed was Koki. "...why have you not woken her? You had specific instructions to have her dressed and ready by-"

"Mother!" Ren called out, rolling over in bed. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she sat up. "It isn't Koki's fault. I refused her attempts multiple times. What was she to do, drag me out of bed by my hair?"

Cersei stepped fully into the room, already dressed for the day, her golden strands cascading down her shoulders. She gave her eldest daughter a tight smile and turned to Koki. 

"Please excuse us. I must have a chat with my daughter."

Koki shot Ren a glance, but bowed and exited the room regardless. Cersei strode over to where Renfri sat under the covers, and lowered herself onto the edge of her daughters bed. 

"We have been home for three days, and this is our first public appearance back. I need you at your best."

"You always need me at my best." Ren sighed, sliding her legs out from under her duvet and settling onto the bed beside her mother. "Day has only just broken and you already expect me to be at perfection."

"Being the princess has its duties, my darling girl." Cersei brushed one of Ren's curls out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Someday, you will marry a high lord, and he will expect his wife to be poised in a way that you have not perfected."

"I do not want  to marry a high lord." Ren flopped back onto the bed. "I want to stay sixteen forever, and drink with Loras and braid Myrcella's hair." 

"You don't want to marry?" Cersei cocked an eyebrow. "Not even if it's...Theon Greyjoy?"

"Especially not if it's Theon Greyjoy." Ren groaned and sat back up. "You haven't made any promises, have you?"

Cersei laughed. "No, my dear. Just opening the conversation with your father. Theon could be a good choice, to put the war with the Iron Isles behind us. But the King is even more against it than you are. You are his darling baby girl, after all. His true Baratheon."

Ren leaned her head on her mother's shoulder. Cersei reached up, holding her face.

"This true Baratheon just wants to go back to bed." 

Cersei clapped then, standing up. She turned and grabbed Ren by the wrists, hauling her to her feet.

"Up, up, up. Let's get you ready. It is your nameday, after all."

"Should I summon Koki?"

"No," Cersei pushed Ren towards the bathing room. "No need. We haven't had our lady time in a while. Besides, I've never liked how she does your hair."