
After their failed rebellion, every rebel from House Reyne were supposed to be executed... except one. Nora is alive, in King's Landing, and ready to get revenge. But what she doesn't know is that Tywin Lannister is after her... Rated T for bad language. Inspired by "the Rains of Castamere. AU
Rated: Fiction T - English - Suspense/Drama - Myrcella B. - Chapters: 4 - Words: 3,587 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 12-08-12 - Published: 12-02-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8760000
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Nora Reyne had never envisioned her own death.
She expected that she would be frightened, maybe even panicking. Unlike a Reyne of Castamere. She had wanted a dramatic death, full of fury and hatred at the Lannisters. She wanted to go down fighting the monsters who destroyed her life.
But now this Reyne of Castamere is experiencing her execution through quite different eyes. She is composed and calm. She is not struggling against the guards who hold her arms tight. She is as regal as she would be if she became Lady Reyne of Castamere.
She is not scared of death. Not even the pain of it. Lady Reyne is smiling brightly at the golden Lannisters, and wonders to herself if she is going insane. Lady Reyne thinks that yes, she is quite crazy. This doesn't worry her.
This disconcerts the Lannisters. The whole hall is amusing to observe. The youngest boy, the childish one, is crying and asking his mother, who is stone-faced but clearly disconcerted by Lady Reyne's composure, why his grandfather will kill this girl. The King, much like his mother, does not know how to react. The Imp is apparently furious at the sight of a lady's killing.
Myrcella is of course the hardest for Lady Reyne to see. She is struggling against tears, her eyes locked with Lady Reyne's as her blonde uncle assures her that "now we don't have to worry about rebels and traitors." Lady Reyne feels a sense of sadness. She remembers kissing Myrcella on the roof. Lady Reyne's thoughts come to her slowly, as if through syrup.
As Lady Reyne scales the steps to the podium where her head will be separated from her body, she notes the seriousness of the occasion. There is a mat laid over the marble floor to catch her red lion blood, a man bearing a heavy sword that he will use to strike her. Odd, she thinks detachedly, how her murder will not be public viewing. Maybe Tywin Lannister does not want to admit he let a lady of Castamere live for so long.
Tywin Lannister stands by the headsman, his eyes stony. Yet Lady Reyne sees the trouble in his gold-flecked eyes, the conflict, the way her composure affects him. She greets him with a pretty smile and a word of thanks for inviting her into his home. He is speechless for a moment. Lady Reyne takes this time to observe this man who killed her entire family. In the back of her addled mind where she is still Nora Reyne, gutter rat, she wants to kill him. She wants to know if he bleeds gold. But Lady Reyne is made of courtesy and insanity, so unlike Nora Reyne.
They tell Lady Reyne to kneel in front of them. She would rather sit, or lie down, she suggests. A red lion would not kneel to be killed by a gold lion, after all. A red lion would die in the hunt. But Lady Reyne is, after all, a noblewoman, and courtesy is now her armor. As she kneels, her gold hair brushing her shoulders, she can hear someone humming the tune of "The Rains of Castamere."
This makes her smile. Lady Reyne realizes this is her favorite song. Not because of what it means to her. But because of the first verses. Lady Reyne sings the song loudly, her songbird-like voice echoing off the walls of the throne room.
"And who are you, the proud lord said,
That I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat.
That's all the truth I know.
In a coat of gold, or a coat of red,
A lion still has its claws.
And mine are long, and sharp, my lord,
As long and sharp as yours."
Lady Reyne stops singing. She glances into Myrcella's wet eyes and begins to mouth, Thank y- as the headsman swings the sword.
Tywin Lannister will one day bleed gold, for his is the gold lion. But Lady Reyne of Castamere is the red lion, and her blood spills over the mat, pure, Reyne red.
Yes now this Reyne weeps o'er this hall, with not a soul to hear.
A/N:THANK YOU so much for reading! You make my day.
If you liked this, PLEASE check out my profile! I've written other stories, and new ones are in the works!
Special hugs to seekingtomorrow, my first reviewer... She's an amazing writer, check her out!
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