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THE RECEPTION IN THE RED KEEP WAS LESS THAN WELCOMING, and never had Rikkia Lannister-Baratheon felt less at home in what was once her former home. The city seemed even worse than it had a year ago, the thick walls of the royal carriage not hiding her eyes from the heightened squalor, the vacant space that once held the magnificent Sept of Baelor and the palpable tension. It had been a year since she had last visited King's Landing - and she still managed to hate it more than ever.
She often wondered over the previous months if her mother had sent her away as a favour, knowing that she detested the city and the dreaded walls of the Red Keep that had so long entrapped her - keeping her inside instead of others outside. Still, of all the eligible suitors that King's Landing had to offer, Steffon Swyft wouldn't have been on top of her list of choices. Or rather, be on the list at all. But she had known from a young age betrothals were never optional when one was born a princess.
As much as the Red Keeps walls left her feeling trapped as a youngling, Rikki breathed out in relief the second she was within its safety. The trip through the city had been tumultuous at best - with angry citizens rightfully demanding food, at least the castle would be somewhat safe.
Her mother stood outside the door with a small party, or at least she thought it was her mother. Long gone were Cersei Lannister's billowing gowns and long hair, with a dark and plain dress now hiding her body and her locks chopped close to the scalp. Rikki briefly wondered if she looked different, but in a land like Westeros where not a day goes by without some form of catastrophe, Cornfield had to have been the most untouched place in the Seven Kingdoms. She detested it.
Uncle Jaime stood defiantly by her mother's side, appearance somewhat softer than his twin as they watched the only remaining grandchild of Tywin Lannister step out into the small courtyard. Rikki couldn't help but curiously look around before she reached them, she had heard some of the stories that had managed to slip back to her in Cornfield but the Red Keep had managed to remain exactly the same. Even though nothing was the same at all.
"Darling," Cersei greeted, the bare hint of a smile toying with the curve of her lips as she leaned in to peck her daughter's cheek. There was a newfound reservedness in her mother, Rikki noticed. But the lionesses knew each other too well, having basically prowled around the other when Rikki had been in her teenage years. "You look more like a woman now, truly blossomed. The Westerlands have been kind to you."
She hadn't mentioned Steffon straight off the bat, and Rikki also knew why that was. After all, if he was still alive she wouldn't have been allowed to come here at all. He wasn't the best of suitors as aforementioned, but no matter how little she thought of him - Rikki was adamant she didn't kill him. Contrary to popular belief.
"I would like to be taken to Tommen's resting place," Rikki demanded immediately, unable to force herself into pleasantries straight away. Her brother's death was like a never-healing wound, and the circumstances behind it causing it to burn further. Joffrey meant as much to her as a stray flea that rested on her arm - but Myrcella and Tommen were different.
