A Furious Thing

King's Landing

Renly departed first, reasoning that he would draw attention away from Arya and Brienne. Everyone knew, though, that the reason for his haste to return to the Red Keep was the Knight of Flowers. Loras almost always came to Tarth with him. This time however, he'd stayed in King's Landing, to be with his sister during negotiations for her hand. That hadn't stopped Renly, of course, but he was just Renly.

Without the Lord of Storm's End and his baggage, Arya could have sworn the boat rose several feet out of the harbor. It also made unloading their things that much quicker than previously. Kira again clutched her bag to her side, watching the city with wide eyes, but she didn't look nervous now. She looked in awe. She supposed she should be as awed as her friend, but Arya was just resentful. This was the stinking filthy city that had changed everything, home to the filthy stinking King who'd wanted to sell her off to the highest bidder, the Queen who had wanted her flogged. She just didn't see the allure.

Brienne sent out a man to gather horses and another man to find an inn. Arya wasn't sure how tourneys worked. Her father had never held one before, and they'd never interested her enough to read about them. She knew that the high lords would have rooms in the Red Keep. She wondered if the lesser lords would have quarters as well. She supposed Brienne could just be taking measures to keep their profiles low. But then, they'd come to the city for a reason, beyond the 50,000 dragon purse.

The men returned within half an hour, the first with several horses. The second returned with significantly less gold and news of a few clean rooms at a reputable inn. Brienne traveled with only a few guards and fewer servants, so she had gone to the trouble of getting rooms for them as well. But Arya and Kira would still be sleeping with their lady, for safety's sake.

The older woman had scoffed at Arya's pleas. "I'm quite capable of protecting myself Arya. If anything, you'll be the one in need of protection." but in the end she'd allowed it, giving her a small smile and nodding in an indulgent way.

The small party mounted their new horses and made their way to the inn. Arya set Nymeria to walk closely behind them.The two years on Tarth had only seen the direwolf grow bigger. She was larger than most dogs, now, and could be rather intimidating when she wished. It was a risk, walking her through the crowded streets. But Arya could hardly leave her to wander the docks so she simply hoped Nymeria wouldn't draw any unwanted attention, as unlikely as that was.

The inn certainly looked clean, and the innkeeper dressed richly. When he saw Lady Brienne's man he waved the group on towards the stables, where they left the horses, before returning to the inn proper. Arya followed behind the lady and Kira followed behind Arya, to the room they'd share. It was well furnished, and there were two small cots beside the larger featherbed.

They spent their first two days in the inn while Brienne supervised Arya in her arm exercises. The hours passed slowly, and Kira's endless questions became sometimes impossible for Arya to answer. When the girl started asking especially detailed questions about the Martell line Arya finally snapped.

"I don't know! How am I to know that?" she shouted, stepping back from Brienne to glare at her. Kira's eyes widened and she sat up straighter on the featherbed.

"Arya!" Brienne scolded.

She let out a grunt of frustration. "I'm sorry. I... We've been in this room for so long."

Kira nodded, letting her shoulders relax. Brienne watched them both for a moment, weighing something in her head, perhaps.

"I'll take you to the tourney grounds tomorrow. I doubt the construction had been finished but there is always plenty of activity near the lists."

"Can we pass through the Street of Steel along the way?" Arya asked, remembering something Tyrion Lannister had said almost three years ago in Winterfell.