cerseixtargaryen-blog

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Aurane dutifully filled her glass again, pouring beyond what most women would deem proper – but not so much as to shame the woman. If anything about the Queen could be discerned from observation alone, it was a love for wine. Aurane rose his own drink in a toast to her, and drank deeply. His head buzzed as a reminder of his consumption, and with what remaining wits he had about him he thought it best to clear himself from the woman’s presence before his tongue failed him. “Then I shall be a friend, Your Grace. A friend, a servant…and anything more you shall ask of me.”

“Now, please. I cannot monopolize your time any longer. Your guests will not stand to see their most beautiful Queen keeping company with a bastard for much longer.”

--

Cersei returned the motion, raising her goblet in appreciation of his toast, taking a long sip of the blood-red liquid. If it were not for the wine, ( or young Aurane ) she never would have survived the night. She smirked, a satisfied, relaxed smile. “Most excellent.” She said with a nod of her head, lacing her lingers together in her lap. His following words made her nod again, this time reluctantly. “I doubt they would dare to say anything, but I do suppose you are right, Aurane. Besides, since you will stay at court now, we shall certainly see more of each other.” The queen’s tone was nothing short of an order. He ought to stay now, to serve as her eyes and ears, and perhaps he would be awarded accordingly. “It has been a pleasure speaking with you.”

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“As am I, in truth,” she commented softly. “I’ve been surrounded largely by cousins my whole life long – and they are wonderful company, but it is nice to befriend someone with whom I share no blood.” In the future though, Margaery thought cheerfully, they’d be as good as sisters. “Oh, I strive to be…open-minded on the subject,” she answered carefully. A wrong answer could be damning. “Any lady would dream of a prince,” she answered with a sweet smile. It would be stupid and pathetically transparent if she were to pretend otherwise. “But I think it may be all the more likely that I’ll marry a boy from the Stormlands, or from Dorne.” Wearing a bashful expression then, she admitted with a laugh: “I did know your nephew briefly – and found him to be exceedingly gallant, as most must. Though, I imagine by now his attentions would have diverted entirely.”

The queen had observed the young lady carefully, briefly nodding as she talked about her family and cousins. Women were ever surrounded by them, anyway. She remembered her first close friend, or someone who appeared as such, until she had betrayed her by marrying her brother. Still, the child was naive - marrying a prince. They all wanted a prince, but only a selected few will have the honour of marrying her sons. Nevertheless, she had smiles to Margaery. “I wish you all the luck then. If your family would choose for Rhaegar’s gift, I would happily assist by arranging you a... Strong matrimony, lady Tyrell.”

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“Princess Rhaena is wonderful company,” Margaery divulged with a smile. That wasn’t a lie – Rhaena was a sweet girl, and one given to much activity. Margaery could find commonality with her, and she found her to be amusing and kind. “When my lord brother returns home to Highgarden, I imagine he’ll be met once more with some pressure to arrange my marriage…and so, I’ve no idea how long I might remain at court. I am eager to enjoy my time for as long as I can.”

Of course Rhaena was a wonderful company. Her little dove was the very definition of grace, intelligence, and all other things which meant a good company. Nevertheless, Cersei smiled to lady Margaery, nodding. “I am pleased to her that. Rhaena is in need of good friends, lady Margaery.” Naturally, her daughter was in no such need, but if young Tyrell thought she was being useful, and wanted in the court, then she could, indeed, prove useful. The topic of her marriage made the queen nod in understanding. “They do what they do best, our brothers. In your late father’s stead, it is now his duty to find you a fruitful marriage. Between us ladies, do you have a preference, lady Margaery?” She asked with a seemingly warm smile on her face. Knowing people around her family was her obligation, and Margaery’s reply would give her all the answers she needs.

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“Wise once again,” Aurane commented, as he tipped his head in respect to her. Picking up the cup once more, he drained it of its contents and settled it down, empty. “The realm is blessed to have you, Your Grace.” Taking the flagon of wine in hand once more, he refilled his cup, and turned to her with a smile. “We would all be lost without you. More wine?”

“I am endlessly grateful for your kindness,” he answered. He wondered what sort of a purpose Cersei would seek for him. His status would hold him back from being able to occupy a role of extreme worth, even with the Queen’s word. However, that was not necessarily a bad thing – discretion would be key, if only to keep from eliciting Daenerys’ disappointment. “I should be glad to serve the crown in any capacity, Your Grace.”

--

Cersei now observed him with a subtle, but at the same time, almost Cheshire like grin on her face. She loved a good plot, and Aurane Waters was fitting perfectly in most of those plots. Yes, she would have to make sure he is to be trusted, but dangle a promise of power in a man’s face, and he will do about anything to get it. She finished the wine her chalice as he spoke, setting it back on the table, and giving him a soft nod as he asked; “If you would be so kind.”

She settled back into her chair, the barely-there smirk now rising. “Good, good. I could use a friend like you, Aurane.“ The queen said, but they both knew friendship is not what she has in mind. Total obedience. Discretion. She is not so foolish as to call anyone her friend, but a few trusted companions who helped carry out her plots... Now, those she loved.

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Aurane’s lips curved smugly at her approval, and he brought the cup to his lips to take another long drink from the chalice. “Right you are, Your Grace. Though, if I may be so bold…” he spoke, settling his goblet down once more, “I must profess that you seem to be in no danger of losing your grip on either.”

“Ah, of course. Humbly, I assumed a man of such low birth would be of no consequence to a woman such as yourself, my queen.” He considered her question for a moment as he drank from the cup. He suspected Monford would send him home before long. The Driftmark could not go unattended, and Daenerys would not be able to leave so quickly. He had a mind to think she would not leave, not until she’d reached some kind of a reconciliation with her eldest brother. Aurane did not think there would be a scenario wherein Monford would go, and leave Aurane here with his wife. He needed to find a reason to remain at court. If Cersei could offer such a thing to him, he would pay her every flattery and attention she desired.

“My departure date has not yet been decided,” he answered vaguely. “In truth, I should like to stay for as long as I might manage. The sights here are…far more enchanting than those I am accustomed to.”

---

Cersei is a vain person. She does not regard herself as such, but it would be a grave understatement, and a most humorous lie of all, to state otherwise. Aurane’s flattery was more than welcome, in fact, she was always so thirsty for appreciation, not solely of her beauty. She wanted what her husband in his constant wailing for his long dead wife could not give her - true respect and recognition of her power and intelligence. The blonde non-Targaryen in front of her provided her with exactly what she wanted to hear, and she did not stop to think about his motives - she knew they were undoubtedly there, but at this very moment, she did not care what they were. “Indeed.” was the only thing she said on his flattery.

“Do not be silly. A woman such as myself must pay attention to all men. Even those of low birth can sometimes cost a person their crown. And I would not want that.” She replied with a smirk, relaxing further into her chair as she took another sip of her wine. The evening was boring from the start, but at least now she had a companion worthy of her time. The queen listened to the bastard of Driftmark speaking about his departure, and it gave her an idea. If she were to offer him a place in court, as a guest for a start, then he could repay his gratitude by serving as her eyes and ears. If she wanted to eliminate Jon from the ascension equation, she could use all the help she could get. The wicked idea made her smirk, but she quickly veiled it as an inviting smile.

“I can only assume about the sights. But, of course, you are more than welcome to stay here as my guest, Aurane. In time, you could even have a purpose here.” Cersei said, bringing the chalice to her lips again, as she observed the man beside her. He expressed his wish for remaining here, and she could grant it. In return, he could prove more than useful in nearby future.

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Evil.

There was no other word to describe Cersei so perfectly. She could see it in her eyes, everything she wanted to do to Mother lion, that she couldn’t without drawing too much unwanted attention to herself. Melara knew the ex-Lannister; she was all about appearances and she would be damned first than to let it crack, especially in front of Rhaegar. But, she did not have those limitations, so she simply smiled, nodding. “He does, I cannot complain.” Her smirk was that of kindness and happiness, everything she knew would taunt the queen even more.

However, as she asked about Kyra and Mychel, Melara’s smile turned a lot more honest. “They are wonderful, thank you for asking. Kyra is around here, possibly with her father, but I hope she made at least one other acquaintance tonight. Mychel, however, has remained at Casterly Rock with lord Tyrion, but he will joining the court soon, if I’m not mistaken.” She replied, before politely asking. “And how are your children, your Grace? I caught mere glimpses of them throughout the evening and they are as radiant as always.”

--

She was this close. This close to wiping that smile off Melara’s lips once and for all. How dares she talk about her happiness with Jamie? How dares she be happy? Who is she to be so content with her life, when the only thing Cersei was content about hers was also Jamie, and the power she currently held? She found that last ounce of her control, and merely smirked at her once-lady.

Hearing about her niece and nephew made her calm down a little, a smile spreading on her lips. “I long to see him. Do send him my regards upon your return.” The question about her children made her round the room in a glance, searching for them. Rhaena was dancing with her ladies-in-waiting, Aegon was with Jon, which almost made her scowl openly, and Daemon looked bored. “They are well, thank you. Rhaena is as sweet as ever, and my boys are good.”

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Margaery’s words appeared to have their desired effect, and she matched the radiant smile the Queen wore with a smile of her own. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will be certain to pass along your words of kindness to them – they will surely consider it to be among the highest of honors.” She could imagine now that Loras might roll his eyes at the Queen’s praise – perhaps add in a snark that would bring a smirk to her lips – but just the same, she knew he’d present the Queen with the first of his roses come the next tourney. Despite their Grandmother’s assessment of him as being perhaps lesser than the others, Margaery knew well that Loras was as born to the game as any of the others.

“Of course I understand,” Margaery answered, nodding her head. In truth, she felt a bit slighted by the Queen’s words – perhaps she put forth a front of innocence, but had the Queen already decided that she was so daft as to be unaware of her brother’s responsibilities as lord? “Your generosity is very humbling, Your Grace. You open the court to so many – myself included. I am so thankful for it.”

--

Cersei smiled at her words and bowed her head in a brief manner of acceptance. Oh, she knew just how Olenna Tyrell and the rest of the Roses would take the compliment, and it almost made a wicked smirk dance upon her lips, but she had restrained it. There was no reason to show her true feelings and thoughts to the pretty little Rose.

“I am glad you found a place among my daughter’s ladies, lady Margaery.” Cersei commented, an almost motherly smile forming on her lips. She might be a Tyrell, but she was still, in a way, a child. “What can I say, I enjoy being surrounded by many people.” She took a sip of the wine, swallowing down the smirk which threatened to break on her lips.

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“A wise question, Your Grace,” Aurane replied, a quiet laugh chasing his words as he set to pouring her a large glass of wine, before pouring a second for himself. “Allow me to attempt and give you a wise answer,” he mused, as he settled the glass gently before her. He hummed in a show of consideration, before turning to her with a roguish grin. “It is power which commands us all, but it is beauty which masterfully undoes me, time and time again.” He punctuated his words with a green-eyed wink, and followed it with a long indulgence of the wine he’d poured himself.

“It is not a question of affections, but of duty,” he answered. “My brother saw fit to bestow upon me the title of seneschal – and thus my freedom to come and go from the isle as I see fit has been limited.” Again, that same mischievous smirk sat on his lips, and he inquired: “was my absence so noticeable to you, Your Grace?”

---

“That is a diplomatic answer.” Cersei smirked, but leaned back onto her chair as she studied him, accepting the glass he had poured for her. “But, a wise one nonetheless.” She briefly agreed, her eyes raking over Aurane in an inspecting manner. Yes, he could indeed prove useful, but how, she will have to think about later. “Beauty and power share many traits, but unlike the former, power can be kept if one is wise enough.”

Cersei replied with a matching smirk, folding her arms in her lap gracefully. “It is my duty to notice people and their absence.” She vaguely replied. The only reason why his absence was so noticeable, was because he stood out among other courtiers with both his looks and his cunning. “Are you staying in the Landing, or will you be returning to Driftmark after the feast?”

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“You would know a great deal more than I on the subject, Your Grace,” Margaery replied respectfully. She couldn’t help but to wonder what Cersei would consider to be the markers of a good ruler – but she did not ask. It would be only too telling of her intentions to harbor such a position in her own right. The brunette nodded as the Queen commented on the late Lord Arryn. “I suppose I prefer to err on the side of flattery,” she admitted with a smile, as she brought the cup to her lips and drank. “But there is sense in what you say, Your Grace.”

“No one at all could be bored at such an occasion,” she replied, a smile on her lips. She could see how the Queen had brightened some at the mention of Aegon, and so she latched onto that for the moment: “your family has all been outfitted so beautifully for the occasion, Your Grace,” she mused sweetly, her gaze moving to find where the Princes and Princess mingled about the crowd. “I agree whole-heartedly,” she chirped, smiling widely. “It has been my pleasure to see my elder brothers and goodsister during these festivities, and I shall be saddened to see them return to Highgarden so quickly.”

--

Of course there was a sense to what she was saying. Not only that she was the queen, but she had all the cunning, and resourcefulness of a man, rather than her, what men deem to be, weaker sex. Weaker, as if. There are no things which women cannot endure, even better than men, and yet they are the ones who call themselves stronger, the ones who, so unfairly, hold all the power. Well... Not under her watch. Deciding that it would be the best to skip the subject, Cersei merely nodded at lady Margaery’s words.

“That is good. I feared the funeral will leave a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth, but I am pleased to see it is not the case.” And by pleased, she meant she did not care the slightest if anyone was bored, or depressed. The compliment left her smiling, and she accepted it with a bow of her head. “Your family looks more than pleasing to the eye, as well.” it was only polite to return the compliment, and she was all about appearances, especially since her husband was nearby. “They have duties, lady Margaery, but if they would like to stay for a little while longer, the court is open to them.”

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Resentment.

A delicate quirk of Cersei’s lips was the very thing which betrayed her. Having spent a few long years in her service, Melara knew the queen well enough to notice the small details and ever since she caught her with her husband, she spent all extra time in her company studying her subtly. sometimes from afar; cataloguing and noting the most miniature of changes in her glare, smile and posture. She knew Cersei hated her almost as much as the Mother Lion hated her in return, but their little game was just starting and this time Melara was determined to come out as a winner. The queen’s threat did not go unnoticed, but the golden haired woman simply smiled to her, nodding along just like a daft marionette she deemed her to be. “Wise words, your grace.”

“I am most glad that life is treating you with the way a queen like yourself so truly deserves.” Melara smiled, appearing innocent in their banter; they still assessed each other, not having seen one another in years, and Mother Lion liked the odds - liked that the other woman was oblivious to her change, her desire and her vengeance. “It is perfect, your grace. I could not ask for a better place, or a better husband and family.” She jabbed at her with the comment she knew Cersei would resent - the comment of her happiness with Jamie, whether it be true or not.

It took all of her nerves, and restraint, to not hiss at Melara, or to order the guards to throw out the trash. The former would mean that the woman won, and the latter would put disgrace on both herself, and her Jamie. So she simply smirked at the words, deciding it would be the wisest to just keep quiet for once - but that did not mean she was defeated. Besides, there were very few things she could taunt Melara with, an sadly, the did not include riches, or other more trivial things. No, they all included Jamie, and at a crowded table she could not taunt her without revealing too much - and she could not poison everyone by her table. She could try, but it would be awfully inconvenient. Instead of glaring at the blonde, Cersei forced the corners of her lips in a smile, something seemingly happy, but dangerous, nonetheless. “I am glad my brother showers you with love and kindness.”

Honestly, she doubted they had a loving relationship. Jamie had never complained, but not like she had asked, anyway. Still, she knew Melara well enough to know that she would never forgive Jamie for cheating on her, and with his sister, of all people. She returned to that night when she discovered them, the shock and disbelief on her face, and the evil smirk which, even now, Cersei felt tugging at her lips. However, she let another, more honest smile to break through, as she asked about her niece and her nephew. “How are my little dove and my nephew? I have yet to see them tonight.”

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King’s Landing – and the homes of most nobility, Aurane would wager – was made up of a great eternal masquerade, where the truth was only passed through whispers and stolen glances not meant to be seen. It had seemed to the bastard of Driftmark that most were happy to live in ignorance, and to ignore all whispers of truth. It was certainly the case for many of the people he’d come across, his own brother included. For Aurane, he preferred to peel back the rose-tinted layer to reveal what truly lurked beneath. He loved whispers – and he loved secrets.

There were whispers of the Queen, though Aurane did not think that was a reality germane to Cersei alone. Any royal was bound to be the topic of gossip – she merely occupied the seat for the time being. In any case, Aurane had listened. Not much was told: only that the Queen might have had wits to match her beauty, and that discounting the innumerable Lannister red-coats sworn to her, there were Kingsguard members rumored to be loyal to her over the Dragon King. In a quick summary, whispers spoke to her power – and Aurane lusted after nothing so well.

He’d lingered in her presence for a while, observing, before she’d taken note of him. With her invitation, he wasted no time in striding forward. He bent over in a low bow, and as he did so his long silver-gold hair fell around his face. When he looked up, a bold smirk sat on his lips. “No man alive could resist an invitation to sit beside the greatest beauty of the realm,” he spoke, before ascending the high table to take the seat beside her – formerly occupied by Rhaegar himself, before he’d removed himself.

Flattery was a common occurrence in the court and Cersei was used to it. Still, that did not mean that it was not welcome. At least someone seemed to appreciate her beauty other than her brother, and unlike her husband who seemed to be in physical pain whenever she would be in his presence. Whether or not it was because he was still grasping annoyingly to his long rotten wife, or he simply could not stand her, she still did not know for sure ( and she was pretty certain she did not want to know ). The man who approached her was a rather familiar one, but whenever she would see him she had to do a double take not to mistaken him for a Targaryen prince. He lacked the trademark eyes, but so did her Daemon and people still thought him to be King’s rather than her brother’s, and it always brought a secret smile to her lips. “Is it beauty or power that commands you, Aurane?” Cersei replied with an almost matching smirk to her lips.

She knew that the bastard brother of her sister-in-law’s husband was an interesting man. A man with a glint in his eyes which often reminded her of herself, and sometimes of Petyr Baelish. The queen was no fool, and she loved to surround herself with people who had something to offer. If counseled, and guided correctly, perhaps Aurane Waters could turn to be a close ally. “It has been some time since you graced the court with your presence. Does Driftmark hold your affections to such an extent?” She asked.

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           The Queen was beautiful. Even dressed for mourning, Sansa was startled by how the woman held herself and she could understand why Rhaegar had taken her for a Queen. Even without the Lannister wealth, the woman would have looked good at his side. Though the gold surely helped. They had said her aunt was beautiful too, before her death. But the girl couldn’t remember the woman’s face and the stones did no one justice. Cersei, however, was living beauty right before her eyes and solidified Sansa’s awe. She would be Queen one day too, even if she had to marry Jon to do it, which hardly seemed an exciting prospect. She’d much rather Prince Aegon or Daemon, with their beautiful golden hair. She could give her husband Princes and Princess’s and enjoy the capital like the Lannister woman before her. Sansa was delighted at the thought. They hadn’t spoken since the Queen had congratulated her uncle, and Sansa was wracking her brains for a way to approach the woman in a casual manner, not wishing to seem over eager.

As if sensing Sansa’s indecision and lingering, the woman called to her making her jump slightly. She didn’t want the woman to think she was an idiot, a stupid little girl that wasn’t fit to marry any of the Princes. “Of course, Your Grace.” She needed no further invitation, happy to take the position of cupbearer for the moment if it would please Her Grace. Though she wasn’t thirsty, the Stark girl poured a glass for herself as well before sitting opposite the woman. “You look lovely, Your Grace. Even on such an occasion,” She complimented, unsure of what to say now that she had her opportunity.

---

She was a little dove, Ned’s niece. A small thing with fiery hair, trusting eyes, and a wide, welcoming smile. She was impressionable. Naive. Kind. The type of woman, well girl, that Cersei knew she could use, manipulate and sculpt into something to her own liking. Starks were wild, cold Northerners, but they were one of the more respectable noble families and her uncle is the new Hand of the King. Perhaps influencing Sansa could be of great use. So, Cersei smiled to her, accepting the goblet, and taking a careful sip. The girl’s compliment was welcome, as all compliments usually were, and her smile widened, losing it’s usual wickedness.

“Lady Stark, you flatter me.” Cersei replied the best she could without appearing completely satisfied by her compliment, and took it as an opportunity to regard the red head more closely. Yes, she was a pretty thing; her hair delicately styled, and her dress showing her feminine figure so well. If it weren’t for the wine, Maggy’s prophecy could have found it’s way back to her mind, but for now it did not bother her. “Appearances are everything in court, my dear. Besides, us women have so little opportunities to be truly seen, we must use every occasion we can, mustn’t we?” She added. “You look most beautiful yourself.”

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Snake.

Even her voice resembled the hissing of a serpent and she did not overhear the venomous tone in the queen’s voice. So, it appears that the two of them shall play the civility game, as long as eyes were upon them, and for now, Melara doesn’t intend to be alone with the blonde rattlesnake. Instead of reacting at the tone in Cersei’s voice, the Mother Lion smiled warmly to Her Grace, nodding along as obediently and piously as she could muster. Appearances were everything once again, especially around Cersei - she had to be as oblivious of Melara’s true nature as she could be. “I would not miss this for the world. Lord Arryn was a dear friend, as you might remember. We both took counsel from him, did we not?” She asked, but it was more of a retort.

Catching up. Melara was sure she didn’t want to know anything about Cersei’s life, just like Cersei didn’t want to know anything about hers. But, she smiled, as always, and nodded in a delighted manner. “I would be most delighted, your grace. Is life treating you as kindly as your king?” She asked, a sweetly smile on her face.

There were no words to describe the fit of anger which coursed through Cersei’s veins as she listened to her sister-in-law speaking. Everything the other blonde had said was a veiled threat in the queen’s wine-induced mind, and she fought very hard to maintain the sly smirk she usually wore on her lips. Was that really a threat from Melara Hetherspoon? The stiff bitch who managed to seduce her brother ( for a short time, but still she despised her for her children ). “We did, yes. I cannot say which one of the two of us prospered more by it.” Her words held a warning - now that he was no longer alive and breathing, Melara had no one to counsel her, even if she had not seen Jon Arryn in years.

Another verbal slap from the blonde, but this time she wasn’t certain if it was done purposely or not. The kingdom knew little of her terrible marriage, but Melara could know if Jamie had confided in her, and the very thought made bile form in her throat. No, her love could not betray her so, and she simply grinned to the obnoxious fanatic beside her. “Of course, I cannot complain. And how are you, my dear? Is my old home still to your liking?”

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“Balance in all things,” Margaery replied easily, “is the marker of a wise leader, I think.” The elder woman’s green eyes seemed to assess her, though Margaery could not claim to be unused to the treatment. She’d constantly been watched by Olenna, monitored to see that she performed as she was taught. Truthfully, there was a certain thrill in it – Margaery gleaned some pride in rising, or otherwise soaring above, the pre-conceived expectations set out for her. Having the Queen give her such an appraising eye brought about a special kind of excitement. With a perfected posture and an easy, sweet smile on her lips, she opened herself up to be examined. Find a flaw, she wanted to say, I dare you.

“I did not have the pleasure of knowing Lord Arryn,” she admitted a moment later, and paused to bring the wine once more to her lips. It was good to appear as though she drank it and enjoyed it as well as the Queen did herself. “And so I suppose, having been removed as I am, I could find some glory in the procession…only those worthy of such an honor should have a funeral as grand, after all.”

“It was divine,” she answered, a nod accompanying her response. “It’s always lovely, to be surrounded by such merriment, and to have the chance to enjoy the company of lords and ladies from all over. I had the pleasure of a few moments of Prince Aegon’s company – he was perfectly amiable, as he is wont to be.” Smiling, she added: “you must be gladdened to have your family here from the Westerlands, Your Grace.”

---

She wondered if the Tyrell rose knew personally about balance in things, or was she simply repeating her grandmother’s words. It sounded an awful lot like something Olenna would say, but Cersei nodded with a purse of her lips, her golden locks cascading around her shoulders with the movement. “Yes, but it is not the only marker. There are some things that are more important than balance.” She commented, drawing her chalice back to her lips to take another sip of the sweetly wine. It was the best sort so far; rich, sweetly, yet not too sweet, but lacking the metallic taste which resembled blood and salt.

“That is a shame. He was a rather interesting man.” The queen said with a smirk to her lips, an intimate smile as she accentuated the word - oh, he was interesting ( if by interesting one could regard his fine ability of not minding his own damn business ). He was a smart man, perceptive, and it was one of the reasons why she had to get rid of him, and one of the reasons why she did. Lady Tyrell’s words made her scoff, waving her hand almost dismissively. “Rarely it has anything to do with honour anymore, lady Tyrell. His funeral was grand all because he was highly positioned and extremely wealthy. Honour has nothing to do with dead men.” She retorted. Olenna might have raised her girl to be beautiful, and intelligent, but she apparently still held the innocent conceptions of the court in her head. Honour. As if anyone had that anymore.

The mention of her eldest son, her golden prince, brought a smile to Cersei’s lips and she shifted in her chair, comfortably, and gracefully, placing her hands in her lap. “I am glad to hear my son has been courteous to you, lady Tyrell, and the see that you are having a wonderful time. I would hate to see my guests suffer from boredom.” When Margaery commented about her family, Cersei’s smile forcibly widened. Yes, she had enjoyed, loved seeing Jamie again, her youngest niece as well, but Melara... She could not stand a sight of. “It is always a pleasure and great joy to see one’s family, or do you disagree?”

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The speech Rhaegar gave was true in his eyes. Ned Stark was a good man, someone who was worthy of the title he now has. It seemed like the rest of the room agreed with him. Rhaegar didn’t care about the ones who didn’t. He was king after all and the king was to make the decisions whether anyone liked them or not. He was sure he was making the right decision of making Stark his hand. He was good at ruling The North, so Rhaegar was sure he was going to make an excellent hand. Beside Jon Arryn always spoke so highly of him and he was his brother by marriage for a time.

The funeral left Rhaegar filled with so much sorrow, the feast however, was a different story. He wasn’t in such a feasting mood. His heart still hurt for his late friend and it made him loose his appetite very quickly. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation either but it was something he needed to do. Rhaegar had to welcome to lords and ladies of the court. If he was going to make future alliances, he had needed to mingle with them, gain their respect.

The man who he managed to get into a conversation didn’t interest him at all. He was talking about how great his daughter was, and how she would be a suitable match for his son Jon but Rhaegar payed no attention to him. There was a lot of potential suitors for his eldest son but none of them were up to Rhaegar’s standards. He needed someone who was going to be a good queen. Rhaegar bowed his head at the man before he left and continued to move through the crowds. This time trying not to get into conversation.

The words he heard coming from his left where like knives stabbing him in the ears. Cersei was his wife, but it never meant he was supposed to like her. He only did it for the good of the realm, it was something he never wanted. She was a vile women, and her presence was nauseating. However, he would rather be with her, than someone who was telling him about how good their offspring was. “My darling wife” he said through gritted teeth. Pouring them both a glass of wine, he approached her. “Why not go and talk to our guests. I’m sure there is someone out there that can find you bearable.��

His words were poisoned daggers, and Cersei’s tipsy state could not bear it. She smiled, for the sake of the people looking their way, but her eyes flashed with seething anger, and, what was even more dangerous, hurt. That bitch was dead. For years now. When will he finally learn to let it go, and get over it? Lyanna Stark is dead. Gone. Deceased. Rotting six feet under. Did he believe she would come back, spring back to life? It was almost making her scowl with hatred, and if it wouldn’t be too obvious, she would make sure the woman’s grave is destroyed. But, then Rhaegar would know , and it would be the end of her, so she endured.

“Many find me bearable. It appears only you have the problem.” She softly cooed, her smile growing, as if to tempt him to openly step out of the line. “I have spoken with our guests. Perhaps I would like to spend some time with my husband now.”

[cerseixtargaryen-blog]

“I was not lingering in the shadows mother.” He said as he walked towards her and sat down, doing exactly what she had suggested and poured some wine for them, Aegon wasn’t sure how his mother was feeling right now, but of two things he was sure of, she wasn’t mourning and she wasn’t thrilled with Ned Stark becoming the hand of the king. “Everyone in Westeros seems to be here isn’t it?” He had never truly liked crowds but he was good at hiding the fact behind a charming smile, maybe it was that he was in part a Lannister, though he felt much more like a Valyrian. “Is good to see my uncle and my cousins at least.” Though the cousin he liked most already lived in the castle.

He took a sip of his wine, swallowing the questions he really like to ask, not only it was not the time and place, he wasn’t sure his mother would answer anyway. “Father seems to be very hurt over the death of his friend.”

Cersei always held affectionate smiles for her children, and Aegon was no exception. In fact, he was her eldest, her favourite, her little prince - and if all goes to plan... Her little king. Her smile grew as he joined her at the table, but then the queen pursed her lips, a delicately bobbing her head in a nod. “Indeed, indeed. All of the realm, I would say. A little too much if you ask me.” Too many lowly commoners, too many faces she didn’t care about seeing. “It is nice of them to have finally joined us.” Cersei nodded in agreement. In only her brother was not so bloody stubborn, Aegon would have seen a lot more of him. Perhaps she should get rid of Melara... The very thought brought a smile to her lips.

That smile soon faded, and she placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Your father is a delicate soul, my son. He takes his friends’ death too closely to heart, but it will pass. All wounds pass.” except for Lyanna, apparently; she bitterly thought. “But, tell me my little dragon. How do you enjoy the feast so far?”

[cerseixtargaryen-blog]

Her mouth watered at the sight of Cersei, and she wondered if she would expel what little food she had for breakfast right then and there. Alysandra curtsied, then swallowed hard and gave the queen a nod. “Yes your grace. He will be. His death was abrupt,” her eyes made a brief, cold contacts with hers. “But my uncle Ned will without a doubt pick up the responsibilities he left behind. Your husband the king could not have made a better choice.” She hoped that Cersei heard the meaning behind her words. Alysandra wanted her to think that Jon Arryn’s work would be carried on by the man he practically raised as his own.

“Your gown is beautiful,” she gestured to it an attempt to up the grieving nature of the conversation. “I’m afraid I did not put much effort into mine, though yours is exquisite.”

----

It would be a colossal understatement to say that she did not like the girl, not truly. But, then again, did Cersei ever really like anyone who was not Jamie, or Rhaegar? She liked Rhaegar, had hope that they might be happy, even after all these years they’ve spent reluctantly married to one another ( reluctant from his side -- she fought tooth and nail to get him and she would do it all over again ). But, she smiled to Alysandra nevertheless. “It was. Caught us all by surprise. He seemed as if her was at the prime of his strength.” She replied, almost joyfully as she talked to his niece. At the mention of Ned Stark, however, Cersei fought to keep her face straight.

That insolent little man. He was clever, and he was loyal to the king, which made her apprehensive of him - not enemies, not yet, but if what Alysandra implies is true... Then soon they would battle, and soon she would win. She always does. “Indeed. Our king always makes good choices I would say.” She chirped. Lady Arryn’s compliment widened her smile, even if she knew it was a simple, transparent flattery. But, she accepted it. “Thank you, lady Arryn. That colour you are wearing rather suits you.”