The Last Stag • Game of Thrones

25.

Chapter Twenty-Five.
My Mother's Daughter

Renfri had forgotten how it felt to have the sun warm her back. 

While she had loved her time in the North, it was far too cloudy for her liking up there. At her core, Ren was a Southerner. She had abandoned the black cloak and thick boots as she had moved further and further into the South, despite it being winter, and the Southerners considering it cold.

But they knew nothing of real cold. The kind that wraps its hands around your throat, freezing you from the inside out. 

She stopped her horse as she approached the open gates of her city, casting her eyes over the wall. It was so painfully familiar. The chatter of the common folk, the smell of smoke and meatpies in the air. The Red Keep looming in the background.

"Traveler." A stern voice barked at her. She looked up, not noticing how one of the City Watchmen had come to greet her at her entry. "The King has implemented a mandatory travel restriction along the city. Unless you're returning home, I must ask you to turn back."

She turned her horse to them, raising her brows.

"Apologies, sir." She bowed her head in respect. "I hadn't heard. I live here, in the city, I've just been away from home for a very long time now."

The guard narrowed his eyes.

"Ordinance has been in place for six months now."

"And I've been gone for four years." She smiled sweetly. "As I said, sir. I had not heard."

The guards eyes flickered up and down, taking in her scrappy shoes, her dirty pants, the mud that stained her shirt and face. Most notably, the scars that hid behind her tangled hair. 

"Flea Bottom, then?" He cocked an eyebrow. "You a brothel woman?"

Brothel woman. He was respectful, Ren could give him that. He didn't seem as if he wanted to hurt her, but that did not mean he was not an enemy.

"Not Flea Bottom." Ren tilted her head. "The Red District, actually."

"Ah." The guard clicked his tongue. "King's holding court today so it's a madhouse over there. One of Lord Baelish's girls, then? I'm afraid you've been away for too long, madam. He's been in the Eyrie for some time."

"Wrong again." Ren teased in a playful, friendly way. "Impressive. I'm Cersei Lannister's daughter. I've come to speak with my brother, the King."

The guard stared at her, lips parted in surprise.

He burst out laughing, his armor clanking as he leaned back on his horse. 

"You're a funny one." He wheezed, whisking a tear from his eye. "You really had me going. Sister to the King, gods."

His laughter died down and he shook his head, moving to pull his horse away.

"Safe travels home, madam."

Renfri watched him go. Her heartbeat slowed down, and she took a deep breath, yanking the reins of her horse. 

She rode deeper into the city, getting the occasional glance from a stranger or City Watchman, but she was not nearly interesting enough to warrant a second. Her eyes flickered around the cobbled streets, the stone houses that got larger and grander the closer she got to the castle.

The guard had not been joking when she referred to the Red District as a madhouse. Commoners and merchants flooded the streets, men pulling carts filled with cattle and grain and fresh metalwork. Petitioners flooded out of the gates, court likely having just come to an end. She slid off her horse, tying him to a nearby post, slinging her rucksack over her shoulder as she pushed through the crowd.