The Last Stag • Game of Thrones

43.

Chapter Forty-Three
Parting Glass

"You should have seen it. It was so obvious that they're at odds with one another."

"It isn't my business, Sansa." Renfri sighed, splashing the water. "It stopped being my business the moment I arrived in the North."

"Why weren't you there, actually?" Sansa frowned, her fingers weaving another braid into Renfri's hair. "You're the Lady of Storm's End."

"With no men and nothing to offer to the conversation." Ren reminded. "Besides, I'm- I'm not sure how much longer that I'm going to be the Lady of Storm's End."

She felt Sansa's hands freeze in her hair. Renfri watched the warm bathwater ripple over her naked body, Sansa sitting behind her.

"Don't say that." Sansa murmured, resuming her braid. "You're not going to die. I'm simply not allowing it."

"It's something that needs to be discussed, little wolf. I need an heir."

"You're thinking of taking a husband?"

"God's no. I'm thinking of surrendering the damn title."

"To whom?"

"Gendry."

"Your bastard half-brother?"

"Jon's your bastard half-brother and you named him your King in the North." Renfri reminded sharply. "But that's beside the point. I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore. How am I supposed to be Lady Baratheon when I don't even feel like a Baratheon? But now that there's someone out there who can carry it on, can honor it, part of me wonders why I'm still holding on."

"Because it's your birth right." Sansa mumbled. "You couldn't go from being Princess of the Seven Kingdoms to a commoner, could you?"

Sansa finished that braid, moving on to the next one. 

"It's fitting, in a way." Renfri smiled smallely. "Cersei Lannister killed by a common girl with the sword forged by Jaime."

"And nothing that stops the Dragon Queen from executing said common girl." Sansa sighed. "Your name might make you a target, but it does bring you protection. Besides, what would the Stormlanders think? You'd be abandoning them."

Sansa was right, of course, and Renfri had considered it. Once she surrendered her name to Gendry, the Dragon Queen would have no more use for her, and Renfri's attempt on her life at the Goldenroad had not been pardoned. She was practically bending over the executioners block just for Daenerys Targaryen.

"Of course I wouldn't be." Ren resisted the urge to shake her head, knowing Sansa would smack her upside her dome if she messed up the Stark girl's masterpiece. "I'd ask Gendry to establish me as the Lady of Thunder Bay now that House Milligen is extinct, once it's all said and done. I'd support him, act as his advisor. Besides. Big house by the sea? What more could I possibly want?"

She felt Sansa's hands hesitate.

"You could stay here." The Stark girl suggested, her voice tiny. "I'm the Lady of Winterfell. I could use an advisor with experience. You could be my Commander."

Renfri reached up, touching Sansa's hand.

"Maybe I will be, little wolf." She smiled. "But you know I need to go. At least for now."

Sansa released the last braid, standing up. 

"Do I know that?" She couldn't meet Renfri's eyes. "You carry your mothers troubles as if they were stones in your pack. But they're too heavy for you, Ren. They weigh you down, and I fear you may go under. I fear you already have."