Part 102:

The first few days of formalities were the worst, Renly had set Arya and the children up in a large reception room, and Arya spent hour after hour giving audience to various well-wishers, all of them bearing gifts from the practical to the inane. The worst of it was, it wasn't even officially the start of the celebration week, that was three days from now. Even with Roslin and Ella's help the gifts piled up on themselves. None of the gifts were free though, they all cost conversation, some nobles were merely vying for a favourable opinion, but others, well Arya was letting Roslin keep telly of the various marriage proposals, but each of her children could have been wed at least a dozen times over if Arya had permitted it.

All of the nobles that had made court at Summerhall were there, but also many more. There was even one lot of visitors from the Iron Islands, the Goodbrother triplets, Greydon, Gren, and Gormond, the three brothers seemed surprised to have been given a private audience. The gift that Greydon gave Arya was most unusual: it had been wrapped in a black goat pelt, and Greydon had unwrapped it carefully before holding it up for Arya to see. It was a war horn, a large, twisted goat's horn from the looks of it. Although if it was from a goat, the beast itself would have been fearsome in its day. The horn was black, or blackened by the passage of time, and heavily carved with First Man ruins. It was bound with rings of iron and bronze, and Arya had felt a chill down her spine at Greydon's words as he had held it out to her.

"This is for the war to come," The heir to Great Wyk had said calmly as he had held it up for her to see. His fingers caressed the metal bands almost lovingly. "It is bound with true metals, dark and strong to fight against the cold." He locked eyes with her, his own eyes as grey and serious as any that Arya had ever seen. "This horn has not been blown in over a thousand years, since the winter that lasted a generation, it is said two horns were made, but the first one split when they tried to use it, which is why the bands were added."

The intensity of his words forced Arya to her feet, she stepped forward to receive the gift herself, much to the horror of her attendances and guards, as she reached for the horn Gormond's hand caught her wrist, a warning look in his eye. "It will only work for you once," Gormond warned. "Do not use it unless all other options are gone."

As Gormond released her wrist and stepped back half a dozen guards released the hilt of their swords. Arya turned to the third brother, the three of them near identical, their grey eyes so much like Stark eyes. "Any advice from you, Gran?" She asked softly.

"Know your intent." Gran replied.

Arya nodded, Greydon carefully re-wrapped the gift in the goat pelt, then handed it over to her. "Does the horn has a name?" Arya asked as she received it.

"Many names," Greydon replied softly. "We call it the Horn of the Black Goat or the Winter Horn… as to if it is the true Horn of Winter? Well, that's unlikely, isn't it?"

After that they sat and spoke until the triplets time was up, they spent much of the time talking about the fact that the Iron Islands were fighting something of a civil war, with Asha on one side, and one of her uncles on the other.

The next visitor was from across the Narrow Sea, a Warlock by the name of Pyat Pree, whose presence left Arya feeling quite unnerved. The visitor after that was Dornish, and the next one was from the Reach. The day was old by the time Arya gave her last audience and she almost decided to make whichever noble it was wait until the next day, but she was soon glad that she didn't. Balon Swann was nothing like his older brother, Donnel might have the looks and Balon the brawn, but Balon was the polite one. He was tall, and thick across the chest, with arms larger with muscle than some men's legs. His face was strong, but not handsome. The square chin was just a bit too wide, the nose just a bit too fat, and clearly broken more than twice. Yet his voice was soft, his words modest, and Tommen stood beside him as his squire.

Rather than cut their audience short Arya decided to invite them both to join her for supper. Renly was surprised, but pleasant at their presence, and by the time that supper was done Balon had gained himself a seat on the Small Council, quite an achievement for a second born son.

~~/~~

Oberyn Martell was accompanied by his paramour, Ellaria Sand, as well as Nym and Tyene. Another young woman stood behind them, with skin like teak and short black curls, her green brigandine and doeskin pants had been replaced by a simple sea green dress of Dornish silk, cinched at the waist by a wide leather belt which highlighted her small bust. The dress's loose sleeves were cinched at shoulder, elbow, and wrist, yet still exposed glimpses of her upper and lower arm, both upper arms were encircled by bronze cuffs, on the right arm entwining vipers, and on the left, a male and female Sphinx wrapping around each other. (As if Arya needed the clue? This was clearly Alleras.) The young woman was certainly not dressed for autumn's chill, and slight goose bumps showed on her arms, owed to the fact that Arya refused to keep the room warmer than required. Yet her posture remained straight and her heavy travel cloak remained over her arm, the Sphinx cleaned up well.

Oberyn smirked as he noticed Arya sizing her up. "Yellow Lady," He smiled joyfully. "I don't believe you've met my daughter, Sarella."

Arya matched Oberyn's smirking smile with one of her own. "Oh, we've met. Sarella, how goes that task I set you to?"

"Frustrating." Sarella replied, her expression careful. "The place you asked me to explore is only part of the picture." Sarella smiled. "I am sure you can deduct the other two places I need to investigate, but we can discuss that later. I am my father's gift, that is… if you will take me as one of your Ladies in Waiting?" She dropped into a deep curtsey, her eyes never leaving Arya's gaze.

"I… do need more." Arya replied, slightly taken aback. She glanced towards Roslin, then to Brienne, silently seeking advice, but neither were helpful, she would have to decide if she could trust Sarella right now, and she would have to decide alone. She studied Sarella's face, then Oberyn's… her gaze moved to Tyene and Nym… to Ellaria… she got no sense of ill intent. As the silence stretched out she returned her attention to Sarella. "What… of your studies?"

Sarella's smile was genuine, her eyes seeming to light up. "Allow me access to the libraries of the Red Keep and of Dragonstone, and my studies will go unhindered."

"And your training?" Arya pushed. "Will you spar with me? Will your Goldenheart bow be at my side?"

Sarella's smile brightened. "Gladly." She replied.

Arya nodded. "Then I accept, although prepare to get exceptionally board, we have many hours of formalities ahead of us."

Oberyn laughed. "Then let us make this audience as informal as possible, we have other gifts as well, but the Royal guards did not want to let us bring them inside, a dozen Sand Steads have already been added to your stables, much to Robar Water's joy, the children look as if they all need a nap, why not extend our audience and go for a walk to see them?"

Arya considered the offer for a moment, there were many other nobles still waiting to see her and the children, and she was still unsure where she stood with Renly, but she had been receiving people for over three hours. Stretching her legs would do her good. "Let me make sure the children are all feed and settled, I'll meet you at the stables in an hour. Roslin, advise the guards that we are done with audiences for the morning, they will resume again two hours past noon. Sarella, let's go choose you a room in Maegor's Holdfast."

Roslin cleared her throat. "Princess, you have a Small Council meeting at two hours past noon, and don't forget your afternoon tea party at four hours past. Also remember that King Renly has asked to see you late afternoon, to discuss your attire for tonight's feast, tomorrow may be the first formal day of the festivities, but tonight's feast is equally important."

Arya nodded and frowned. "Yes, thank you Roslin, audiences are done for the day then." She raised an eyebrow at Sarella. "We might be able to fit in a late afternoon sparing practice."

"Send for us if you do." "Let us join you." Tyene and Nym responded at the same time.

~~/~~

Renly had not taken the room that had been Robert's, he'd not even taken a room on the same floor, Renly had chosen a large lavish room at the top of Maegor's holdfast, a room that had been basically ignored during Robert's rule and still maintained all of its Targaryen finery. Renly was not alone in the room when Arya entered, there was a young man with him whom was more 'pretty' than 'handsome'. The man had blonde hair, entrancing blueish-grey eyes, and fine features, in some ways he reminded Arya of Loras. He was impeccably dressed in green and gold, the same colours that Renly preferred, and a mischievous smile played across his full lips. He gave a deep, almost theatrical bow as Arya entered.

"Princess Arya, a glorious pleasure to finally meet you." The young man greeted brightly.

"Olyvar," Renly chuckled. "No need for formalities, Arya, this is Olyvar, he is my… ah.." Renly blushed.

Olyvar stepped forward, swooping Arya's hand up in his and dropping a chaste kiss on it, before releasing it and taking a step backwards. His hand was soft, like he had never held a weapon, and his touch was gentle. "I am his, whatever he wants me to be, all though technically I am in your employ, and your debt. Ros Snow runs things with a far more compassionate hand than our former employer."

"Then you are in Ros's employ, not mine. I am glad she is treating you well." Arya replied.

Olyvar's smile became a smirk. "Does a portion of Ros's takings not go to you? Towards running your household? Would your guards not come if there were problems? Would you not intervene if there was word that we were being mistreated?" He challenged.

"Well… yes." Arya stuttered, a hot blush rising in her cheeks.

Olyvar gave another bow. "Then I am in your employ, and proud of it, although I now see why you leave the whore-mongering to your cousin." He glanced back at Renly. "She is rather sweet under all her boldness, isn't she? To think this little thing charged into battle with her bastard army."

"Yes." Renly agreed, smiling. "There are times she charges into battle alone. Now go, before Ros charges me for another hour, you are wildly expensive."

"But wildly worth it." Olyvar replied with a dramatic hand gesture, his smirk even larger than before. "Besides, you get a discount whenever I have useful information to deliver, same time tomorrow?"

Renly shook his head. "Unfortunately not, the tournament starts tomorrow, and… there are other matters to attend to, I'll send for you."

"Oh, I'm creative." Olyvar reassured. "If you want me tomorrow I'll make it happen, shall we say mid-afternoon, around the time that Maester Pycelle usually goes for his nap?"

"And how will I sneak you in, with the sudden influx of noble guests wanting my attention?" Renly questioned.

Olyvar just grinned. "That's half the fun." He winked at Arya then turned and left the room.

"He's… ah…" Arya stared at the closed door, shaking her head.

"He's a refreshing diversion from the burdens of kingship." Renly replied, he cocked a questioning eyebrow. "Are you judging me, Arya Stark?"

"I… uh… no!" Arya shook her head. "But… wildly expensive? We still have the Iron Bank debt to pay, and the church-"

"Actually the High Septon has agreed to absolve that debt." Renly advised. "I'm not quite sure how Ros managed that and I don't care. And don't worry, I'm not my brother, the royal coffers won't be burdened by my whoring. That, and my lavish clothing, are paid for by Storm's End." The words were bitter, wounded.

Arya sighed. "You miss Loras, don't you?"

Renly shook his head. "I miss who I thought Loras was… I should have realised that House Tyrel was using me, that he never… hm, you'd think being the third born son would protect you from such false friends…" Renly met Arya's gaze. "I'm lonely, Arya, I've always been lonely… I never had what you have with your brothers, I… Summerhall was wonderful, but after you all went back to Dragonstone the loneliness was so much worse. And you stayed away, I was so sure you'd be back on the Small Council in a moon or two… and then I discovered you were keeping secrets from me, at least with Olyvar I know exactly what I'm getting. Now come," He offered her is arm. "This coming week is far more important that you could possibly understand, we are officially presenting my heir to the Realm."

"I-" Arya began to reply, but Renly raised a hand shushing her.

"Yes, yes, Gendry is my heir and Toby is his, yet there is but seven years between Gendry and me in age, we might as well be brothers. Facts are irrelevant, people will perceive that Toby is my heir, and that this event is about officially presenting him, perception is what makes or breaks people." He smiled at her and allowed a hand to touch one of the chains of yellow diamonds in her hair. "I believe even you have learnt this lesson now, and Gendry has done fine work with your everyday jewellery, but tonight is special. Tonight, and for the next week, I require you to wear a tiara, I have chosen five from the royal vaults for you to consider, and two from House Baratheon." He stopped her at the table, where the seven stunning tiaras were on display.

Some were gold, others were silver, and two of them looked to be Valyrian steel. Arya's jaw dropped, all of them were incredible. She picked up one which looked like red roses, it was made of rubies and diamonds, with just enough silver to hold the gems in place. "This one looks fragile." She muttered.

"It's not," Renly replied lifting it and placing it on her head. "Feel the weight of it." He smirked. "I chose this one because it was one of the lightest, though some say it's cursed, it was made for Princess Viserra Targaryen."

"The one that was killed by her palfrey?" Arya quarried.

Renly nodded solemnly. "The warning story that all fathers tell to vain girls, although some might argue that she was simply a bold girl born too far down the line of inheritance, don't completely disregard it until you've felt the weight of the others." He picked up another Tiara, this one heavy golden stags locking horns, and heavy with diamonds. "This is one of the Baratheon ones, it's said to be the one my grandmother wore on her wedding day." He grimaced. "Some say that the fact Rhaelle was never given a Targaryen tiara to use was an insult in its own right."

Arya tried it on, but cringed at the weight of it. "Not that one." She muttered.

Renly laughed as he helped her take it off. "Getting soft, princess?"

They continued to discuss and debate the tiaras until they came to the last one. This one was intricately wrought Valyrian steel, the scrolls of metal almost looking like swirls caused by the wind or rolling waves. The tiara raised to a central point and housed only one gem, a yellow topaz larger than Arya's eye, and cut in such a multifaceted style as to exceed even Inanna's work. Arya held it up and frowned. "This had to be a Baratheon one, yes?" Gendry nodded and Arya's frown deepened. "But it was made in Valyria?"

"So was your family sword," Renly replied softly. "While other Kings were getting Valyrian weapons made the Storm King, for some reason, got his Queen a Valyrian tiara."

"Why?" Arya asked.

Renly shrugged. "I don't know."

"Which Storm King?" Arya pushed, surely there had to be a story to it.

Renly shrugged again. "I don't know, I can't find any record of it. I found it when I was five, I was trapped at Storm's End during Robert's Rebellion, you know. Nobody had any time for me, so I was left to wander, I started collecting old keys and seeing what they would open. We were low on food, and Stannis had hit me for crying that I was hungry so I stole part of a roasted dog and ran away into an unused part of the keep. Was three days before anybody even cared that I was missing. I found it then, I never told Robert or Stannis about it." He gave her a weary smirk. "It was my little secret, and now I'm sharing it with you."

Arya sighed. "If you wanted me to wear this one why not simply tell me?"

"Because then your first instinct would be to refuse." Renly replied knowingly. "I want you to wear a tiara, I'm offering this as one of the choices, but I understand your need to choose."

"And you will give me whichever one I choose?" Arya questioned.

"Lend you, indefinitely, but it will remain property of House Baratheon."

Arya nodded and placed the tiara on her head. "How does it look?"

Renly chuckled. "Like you need to change your hair," He scrunched up his face. "And your clothes… and please… don't wear your blades tonight, every noble with a child under ten is going to be vying for a betrothal to one of your children, I don't need you killing anybody."

Arya nodded. "No promises." She replied. "I'll see you in a couple of hours." With that she left to prepare for the feast.

~~/~~