𝕎𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 up in Cersei's arms was the sweetest thing I had ever felt. She had held me close all night, it would seem, or else awoken and rearranged her position. With my first conscious breath of the morning I took in her lavender scent, mixed with her own personal note of Cersei that filled me with ecstasy. I buried my face in her soft golden hair that lay spread out around her head like a crown of sunshine. "Good morning", I heard her murmur sleepily next to me. I looked up at her and smiled at the sight of her green eyes meeting mine. "Good morning, lovely." She exhaled in amuse and kissed my forehead. "Lovely, is it?" "You are", I insisted. "Well, thank you, little cub. You look quite stunning yourself." My smile widened and I sat up, keeping my hand on Cersei's side. "I had best get you back to your chambers", she said with a glance at the sun outside the window. "Your father and sisters will be looking for you by now." Rising from the bed naked as her name day, Cersei walked over to her massive oak wardrobe while I sat gaping at her body despite having had all of last night to admire it. She pulled out a gown and turned back to give it to me. "Here, take this. Until your other dress is... unstained again." I grinned and put on the dress. It fit perfectly, save that the skirt was a little too long - I was a few inches shorter than the queen, after all. But it wasn't too noticeable, since all ladies' gowns were customarily floor-length anyways, a bit of excess fabric was nothing to be called out. Clad in Lannister red, I returned to my family's apartments, entering the room where we broke our fast together each morning. "Vallery", my father called out when he saw me. "There you are. Were you out this early?" "Yes, I was out in the gardens, by the fountain. It was such a beautiful sunrise", I lied. It had been a different sort of sun I had seen this morning. "Where'd you get that dress?", Sansa asked while I sat down beside her and filled my plate. "The queen gave it to me", I replied shyly. Arya snorted. "What business have you got with the queen?" I didn't know what to answer, but thankfully Sansa relieved me. "Don't be rude, Arya. She probably gave it to her as a replacement for all those warm winter dresses we had." I nodded quickly and started eating my porridge.

Around noon, though, news arrived that shocked us all: King Robert had been injured on a hunting trip and it was said that he was going to die. I tried to feel sorry for my father losing his friend, but given what I had heard about the man from Cersei, I didn't find much pity for him in me. Father went to visit his friend while I remained alone in my chambers, waiting for Cersei's crisis meeting with the Baratheon brothers and the other people present at the hunt to end so I could meet with her. I wondered what would happen when Robert died. Joffrey was of age, he would be the rightful heir. But rightful wasn't righteous, and I could imagine many a better king than him. Or queen... what if Cersei tried to claim the throne? Could she succeed? The lords of the realm would be sure to put up some resistance, but her son surely wouldn't defy his own mother, would he? But then again, would she want to seize he throne from her son? Finally, I watched Renly Baratheon stride away across the courtyard, which told me the meeting was over. I found Cersei outside the king's chambers, pacing about nervously. "Is my father in there?", I asked her. She stopped walking, caught in surprise, and turned to face me. "Yes", she said, giving me a curious look. "Why are you so upset?", I posed, reaching out to touch her arm. "My husband is dying, why wouldn't I be upset?", she snapped. "Oh, bugger that", I sneered. "I know how much you care for your beloved Robert's well-being. That's not why you're upset." "It's just... something your father said to me. It doesn't matter", she said quietly, still searching my face for something I didn't know. "Are you sure? You seem pretty unnerved by it." "It's fine", she replied, harder again. "Let's go somewhere else. No use waiting around here like the carrion crows, he'll be dead soon enough." I could tell there was more to it than what she was showing, but knew better than to ask. We went to my chambers, where we were sure to be alone for a while. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?", I asked hesitantly, one hand on her back. She said nothing. "Well, then I've got something else I wanted to talk to you about. Robert's succession-" Her head shot around and she fixed her gaze on me intently, eyes wide. "Why would you say that?", she asked, voice cold with suspicion. I was taken aback. "Well, I just thought- you would want to remain queen, and if Joffrey marries Sansa, she'll be queen, but if you were to lay claim to it..." "Yes, well, but my son is the rightful king after Robert. I am not about to take that from him." "Of course. I'm sorry, it was only a suggestion." I had expected her to refuse, but I couldn't understand her hostility.  "If I said something wrong..." She sighed. "No, I'm sorry. You couldn't have known. It's just that the matter of succession is a sensitive topic for me right now." "Why? Are you scared Joffrey won't heed your counsel, or that my sister will try to take your place? If that is it, don't worry. She respects you, my love." Cersei nodded and leaned in to kiss me, signaling to me to speak no more of the matter. Her kisses still felt unfamiliar to me, an explosion of emotions blooming on my lips whenever they were touched by hers. I let my hand wander up her back to pull her into an embrace, savoring the feel of her body against mine, her breath, her heartbeat, the movement of her ribs when she turned, each individual sensation setting off a firework in my stomach. We stayed there cuddling and kissing for hours, until suddenly our tranquility was broken by the deafening cry of the bells, ringing without pause: the king was dead.

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Everything afterward had happened so quickly I could hardly keep up with the turns over turns of events: my father had supposedly been named Lord Protector of the realm by Robert until Joffrey had matured enough to rule, but the boy had already been pronounced king, and he and Cersei refused to surrender the throne to Father. He, for some reason, had tried to take Cersei and her children into custody by force (why had he ever thought that would work?), which had obviously failed. Instead, he had been taken and put into a dungeon, mayhem had ensued in King's Landing and the day had ended with hundreds dead. The shadow of Father's alleged treason hung over my sisters and me. Cersei's attitude toward me was unchanged in private, but in public she had to shun me. The traitor's daughter, the rebellious cub, just like my brother, who was moving toward King's Landing presently. Sansa's loyalty was put to a tougher test than mine, though, which was proven sufficiently to Cersei by my love for her. My sister had to write to Robb and inform him of our father's deeds, having to assure him of his treacherous nature. Furthermore, the royal family had decided that in order for my father to be spared, he would have to confess. I could see the reason in that, but it still seemed horrible for him to have to own up to a crime he didn't commit. Now, on the day of his trial, I was standing anxiously in front of Baelor's sept between Sansa und Cersei. Finally, there was an uproar in the crowd as my father was brought forth, and the judgment began. For a moment, I thought I saw Arya in the crowd, but I wasn't sure. The Goldcloaks led Father through the masses to the steps where we were standing. When they stepped away, he started speaking. "I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King." He looked back at us, and Sansa nodded encouragingly. "I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold, I plotted to murder his son and seize the throne for myself." The words made my stomach twist. Shouting arose anew, and somebody threw a stone at my father's head. I recoiled, trying to stop myself from reacting. "Let the High Septon and Baelor the Blessed bear witness to what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." I held my breath, nervously awaiting Joffrey's response. But it was Maester Pycelle who spoke first. "As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in sight of gods and men. The gods are just! But beloved Baelor taught us they can also be merciful. What is to be done with this traitor, Your Grace?" I looked to Joffrey, as did everyone else. He spent a moment longer relishing the people's attention, every bit the self-righteous boy king we all knew him to be. "My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night's Watch, stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. And my lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father, as has her sister." Thank you, I thought and sent a silent prayer to the Mother above for protecting my father. "But they have the soft hearts of women." My blood froze in my veins, and in my peripheral vision I saw Cersei's head whip up as she realized what her son meant to do. "So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!" The words rang through me like ragged shards of ice. Cersei made to stop Joffrey. "Stop this", she hissed. Sansa rushed forward, and I too finally broke out of my paralysis. But a guard wrapped his arms around my sister and held her back, and Cersei grasped my wrists, pinning me to her body with her other arm. "It would be wiser not to move right now", she whispered. "Or they'll name you traitor too." I nodded, tears clouding my vision, and she let me go. "Stop, this is madness", she begged her son again, but he wouldn't listen. Two guards brought my father to his knees while Ilyn Payne put on the executioner's mask. He pulled Father's greatsword Ice out if its sheath while Cersei stood anxiously watching the masses, her fingers digging into her arm, and Sansa kept screaming at Joffrey at the top of her lungs to stop. I didn't know where to look, I didn't want to watch them cut Father's head off, but in every other direction, seeing the screaming mob made my head reel. Sansa's panic made mine worse, and so I looked at the only safe haven I had left: Cersei. She felt my gaze on her and looked back at me, forcing her features to slightly relax. Father wasn't even given the chance for last words. A terrible ringing of metal sounded through the air, and my father was dead.

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My father was dead, and there was nothing Cersei could say or do to make it hurt less. But there would have been many things she could have done that would have made it worse, and she didn't. She took my grief seriously, never once tried to make me talk about it when I didn't want to, was there for me when I needed it and gave me all the time and space I required to process my emotions, and I loved her for it. As guilty as I felt about it, amidst all my grief and anger and despair, I loved her, every day, I loved her. She wasn't to blame for her sons actions, and although I couldn't shake the feeling of compunction for being happy with someone related to my father's murderer so soon after said murder, I reassured myself ceaselessly that I had a right to happiness even when such dark misfortune had befallen me. Why should it be a bad thing to enjoy life? Sansa couldn't quite see things that way, however. "How can you still bear to spend time with that bitch?", she spat hatefully, eyes full of tears. "She didn't give the order, Sansa", I said softly, trying to calm her, but to no avail. "They're all the same, the whole pack of them", she raged on. Robb seemed to agree with her, as he had swifty declared war on the Crown. He and Mother were no longer coming South to rescue Father, but to avenge him. Lop one enemy's head off and you create three more. "They're not", I tried again. "Joffrey-" "Yes, he's the worst of them, and I am betrothed to him, but that doesn't make the others saints - you don't have to marry your esteemed queen, so why are you still around her voluntarily?" My breath caught in my throat for a second. Had she somehow found out? "You're going too far", I snapped. "You can't just put them all in the same basket. Your prejudice will get you nowhere." "Prejudice? You dare call it prejudice after they beheaded our father? How much more proof do you need before you see, Vallery?", Sansa shouted. "They didn't do that, Joffrey did!", I yelled. "Your gallant Joffrey, who you are only betrothed to because you begged Father to!" I knew I had crossed a line the moment I said it. "Do you seriously think I would have asked for this if I had known? And why in the seven hells do you care so much?" - "Yes, why do you care?" Our screaming had attracted attention: Cersei stood leaning in the doorway, arms crossed. "I-" "Sansa, little dove, leave us." My sister shot me one last sharp glance and walked away. Cersei closed the door behind her. I made to speak, but she apprehended me. "I know you have no affinity for my son. Few people do, and I cannot blame them. But you have to understand that I can never bear him any disdain, no matter what. He is my firstborn child, my baby boy, even if the things he has done have shocked me. And I sincerely hope that this will never stand in the way of our love. Because as much as I appreciate you defending me, your distinction does me none the better. Loathe my son all you want, the gods know it is your good right, but do not speak ill of him where I can hear, because it breaks my heart to witness this division between two of the people I love most in this world. I can ignore it as long as you keep off each other's throats, live in two separate worlds and enjoy them both, but when those worlds meet... Please don't make this even harder for me than it already is. I want to be with you, but you have to be willing to compromise." "I am", I said quickly. "I understand how you feel. I'll try to avoid conflict, okay? For your sake. I'll even try to get along with him. If he's your son, there has got to be something good in him." She nodded, smiled and went to kiss me. "I meant something else besides this earlier", she said against my neck. "Why do you care? Why do you love me?" "I just do", I said. "If recent events are any indication, we seem to repeatedly withstand all odds."