"𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕝 struck, dog!", Joffrey exclaimed as the Hound dropped a knight over the wall limiting the fighting area. He turned to face my sister. "Did you like that?" "It was well struck, Your Grace", Sansa replied mechanically. Joffrey's voice was irritated when he responded, as if he thought her stupid. "I already said it was well struck." His contemptous gaze lingered on her a moment longer before turning back to the dead knight, while my sister submissively said: "Yes, Your Grace." My fingers dug into the arms of my chair, knuckles white. I hated the way he treated her. But I had made a promise to Cersei, and I should at least try to keep it. He did make it hard on me, though. "Who's next?", the young king asked, one leg propped up on the ballustrade of the pavillion. "Lothor Brune, freerider in the service of Lord Baelish", a man announced below. "Ser Dontos the Red of House Hollard." Brune had already stepped forward, ready for the fight, but of Hollard there was no sign. "Ser Dontos the Red of House Hollard", the man hollered again. Finally, someone responded. "Here I am", a panting man of a wide frame slurred, still fastening his armor, "here I am." He held a morningstar clutched under one arm and was struggling to put his helmet on, dropping it in the process. "Sorry, Your Grace", he muttered. "My, my deepest apologies." "Are you drunk?", Joffrey inquired. "No", Ser Dontos replied, very obviously drunk. "I, uh, no, Your Grace, I had, uh, two cups of wine." "Two cups?", the king asked, and Dontos nodded eagerly. "That's not much at all", Joffrey continued, gesturing to the wine on our table. "Please, have another cup." "Y- you sure, Your Grace?" "Yes, to celebrate my name day." Joffrey sounded suddenly ecstatic. "Have two, have as much as you like!" "I would be honored, Your Grace", Hollard replied with a bow such as only a drunk can manage. Joffrey turned to his Kingsguard. "Ser Meryn, help Ser Dontos celebrate my name day. See that he drinks his fill." Meryn Trant and two other guards seized the still unsuspecting Ser Dontos by the arms, dragged him a few feet away and forced him to his knees. With the help of a funnel, they began upending an entire cask of wine into the poor man's mouth. He was choking and sputtering almost immediately. "You can't", Sansa spoke up. Joffrey's head flicked around to look at her incredulously. "What did you say? Did you say I can't?" "I only meant", my sister stammered, "it would be bad luck to kill a man on your name day." Joffrey huffed. "What kind of stupid peasant superstition." "The girl is right", the Hound interrupted. "What a man sows on his name day, he reaps all year." Joffrey sighed. "Take him away", he ordered reluctantly. "I'll have him killed tomorrow, the fool. "He is", Sansa said quickly as the funnel was finally removed from the drunk knight's throat. "A fool, you're so clever to see it! He'll make a much better fool than a knight. He doesn't deserve the mercy of a quick death." The king considered her words for a moment, then spoke. "Did you hear my lady, Ser Dontos? From this day, you'll be my new fool." "Thank you, Your Grace", Hollard replied before he was taken away, "thank you, my lady, thank you." I exhaled deeply, glad that this cruel display was over.

"Beloved nephew", a mirthful voice sounded through the pavillion. None other than Tyrion Lannister marched toward us, accompanied by a few men I didn't know. I had only met the imp briefly at Winterfell, he had been off whoring all day. Last I'd heard, though, he was my mother's captive. Had he escaped? "We looked for you on the battlefield. You were nowhere to be found." He made direct course for the wine and poured himself a cup. "I've been here, ruling the kingdoms", Joffrey said, sounding slightly uneasy. "What a fine job you've done", Tyrion declared before turning to Myrcella and Tommen. "Ah, look at you", he said, kissing Myrcella on the cheek. "More beautiful than ever. And you, you're going to be bigger than the Hound! But much better looking." Taking in Sandor Clegane's glance, he added: "This one doesn't like me." "Can't imagine why", the sellsword he had arrived with commented. "We heard you were dead", Joffrey said nonchalantly. Myrcella showed more empathy than her brother. "I'm glad you're not dead." "Me too, dear. Death is so boring, especially now, with so much excitement in the world." Tyrion turned to Sansa and me. "My lady, my lady, I'm sorry for your loss." But that phrase displeased Joffrey. "Their loss?", he asked. "Their father was a confessed traitor!" "But still their father", Tyrion retorted without missing a beat. "Surely having so recently lost your own beloved father, you can sympathize." Joffrey didn't reply, but turned to look at Sansa expectantly. "My father was a traitor", she said, the king's words coming out of her mouth, "my mother and brother are traitors, too. I am loyal to my beloved Joffrey." Tyrion gave her a sad smile that I understood all too well. "Of course you are", he said and emptied his cup. "Well, enjoy your name day, Your Grace. I wish I could stay and celebrate, but there is work to be done." He marched off, followed by his retinue, ignoring Joffrey's questions. "What work? Why are you here?" 

I found out why he was there approximately two hours later, from an enraged Cersei running circles in my room. "This imp just comes in here and styles himself acting Hand of the King", she hissed through clenched teeth. "Struts in like it's no man's business and expects to rule. Can you believe it?" "He was named on your father's orders, was he not?", I asked carefully. "Of course he was", she snapped. "Else he wouldn't have been allowed to attend the council meeting at all. But as if that wasn't bad enough, he also brings bad tidings with him. Look at this." She thrust me a piece of paper. I couldn't believe what it said, I had to read it twice over, but the words didn't change. "Stannis can't mean this", I said, handing the letter back to her. "Who would believe such nonsense?" But she stayed silent. It dawned on me long before I found the words to express what the pieces in my head had just added up to. I slowly got to my feet. "Cersei..." I couldn't believe it, but her eyes shying away from mine confirmed my creeping suspicion. "You don't mean... is he telling the truth?", I asked, aghast. She still didn't meet my eyes, but I could see the tears glistening in them. Instinctively, I went and put my arms around her. "So you and Jaime... he was the man you loved?" She nodded and finally looked at me. "And Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen, they aren't Robert's." I feared what I was going to say next, but I had to know. "My father, he knew, didn't he? He found out. That's why you arrested him." The tears rolled down her face now as she nodded again, and she leaned her forehead against mine. "There's something else", she whispered. "You have a right to know. Your brother Bran... he didn't just fall." The implication hung in the air heavily and terribly. I let out a shuddering breath. "Did you...?" "No", she said quickly. "It was Jaime. I didn't want him to, but he wasn't thinking, he just- he wanted to protect us. Please forgive me." "It's not you who needs my forgiveness", I said sullenly. "But he had best pray for it if I ever see him again." "Please", she begged, "don't hurt him." "Why, do you still love him?" It came out too harsh, I knew immediately. "I'm sorry", I said. "You have risked a lot for me. I know you love me. And this will not push us apart. I have loved you before I knew, you're no different now that I do." She tightened her arms around me thankfully. "Your brother Robb isn't quite as taken with me", she eventually said. "My cousin brought peace terms from him this morning. He has captured Jaime in the Whispering Wood and demands you and your sisters in return, among other things." "Three hostages for one, that alone is a great demand to make. I don't assume you'll accept? Especially given that you much prefer having me around rather than your brother." I grinned. "You caught me", she sighed theatrically. "We'll have to offer our own terms in return." "What are you going to put into the bargain?" "For starters, I'm going to deny his request to make the North an independent kingdom. I'll grant him your father's bones as he asked, there's no point in keeping them anyways - they do belong in Winterfell." I swallowed hard at the mention of my late father. "As for the exchange of hostages, I will press a behest he'll never agree to. All their Lannister captives in return for three girls - he'd be a fool to make the trade." Nodding, I contemplated the information. My brother's terms had been quite fair actually, except for laying claim to the North. That was overconfident of him, but as for the rest... Cersei seemed determined to grant him as little as possible, and although I didn't want to leave, recognized the political importance of Sansa's engagement to Joffrey and knew about Arya's disappearance, I misliked the reluctance with which Cersei had even allowed for Father's bones to be returned to my family, the bare minimum of civility. Why did our circumstances always prompt us to choose between our love and our family?

The train of bad news was far from over, though. Cersei came to me again a few treacherously serene days later that we spent explicitly ignoring all this somber information, spending as much time together as we could. Our relationship was somehow flourishing more than ever amidst the chaos; thanks to our determination not to let it get between us, it actually brought us closer together. "You should like this", she laughed bitterly, but I saw she was actually close to tears. "It'll prove to you that Joffrey is the monster you've always thought him to be." "What happened?", I asked, concerned at her disarrayed state. "He read Stannis' letter and felt his position might be threatened if the people chose to support one of Robert's illegitimate children over him. He had them all killed." "But many of Robert's bastards... they're infants, aren't they?", I asked, incredulous. "Were", Cersei said tonelessly, giving me all the answer I needed. "This will not be received well", I said. "If the people hear that the king is murdering innocent children..." Cersei sobbed. "I don't know how to control him anymore!", she burst out. "He doesn't listen to me, he doesn't respect me, I don't know what to do! The things he does, they shock me, and I hate to recognize his meanness and hate myself more for not being able to face it." She broke down in my arms. "What am I to do?", she cried. "Defend my son even though he's in the wrong, or teach him at the cost of his trust? It's an impossible choice." "I know", I murmured, stroking her hair to console her. "But if you want to protect him, you need to know better than him what is good for him and what isn't. Sometimes, that will include opposing him. He's beyond reason, but you are not. What's important is that now, you must have the strength to deny him his will, or this war will turn out very bad for us." "I don't know if I can do that", she whispered. "My children... you cannot possibly understand, not until you are a mother yourself. I would do anything for them, and to openly contravene them - I can't." "Every mother must discipline her children from time to time", I said softly. "Mine certainly did. How else are they supposed to learn what's right and what's wrong?" "What if it's too late for that?", she asked. "I told you, he doesn't listen. If he wants something, he stops at nothing to get his way." Can't imagine where he got that from, I thought. "Then show him better ways to get it, smarter ways. Don't just deny him his freedoms, but show him how to strategically rule." "I'm trying", she said and straightened herself, thus ending the conversation. 

"Come", she said, getting up from the couch we were sitting on and brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. "Let's go to my chambers. We have a few hours before supper, and there is something we haven't done in quite some time." Not since the first time, actually. I followed her through the corridors to her apartments and got seated on the bed while Cersei removed her shawl and jewelry. Her eyes scanned my body, looking amused despite the state she had been in minutes prior. "Nervous?", she asked with a smile. Before I could answer, she shrugged out of her gown, once again exposing to me that perfect body that took my breath away. I quickly scrambled out of my own dress, I couldn't get the fabric off of me fast enough, and crawled back onto the bed, awaiting her. She took her time strutting over to me, like a true lioness stalking her prey, and it was torture to watch her advance so slowly. I took in her every curve and crease, mapping her body to treasure its image in my mind, but nothing would ever come close to the real thing. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she put her hands onto the bed beside me and swung a leg over to the other side so she was kneeling on top of me. Her lips crashed into mine, and while she engulfed me in a passionate kiss, her right hand wandered down to my breast and began kneading it, her thumb brushing lightly across my nipple from time to time. I felt myself grow wet with anticipation. "Do me", I breathed into the kiss desperately. She did not make me ask a second time but moved her hand down between my legs immediately, as if she had only been waiting for me to ask. Carefully, so as not to hurt my still inexperienced lady parts, she entered me and tenderly moved her fingers around, watching me closely to observe what would pleasure me. My threshold was low due to the exceeding rarity of my sexual encounters so far, and I quickly began to feel the world around me blur as the rythm of her hand inside me became a hundred times more intense. For a moment, I was reduced to nothing but that one point of connection, it seemed like the string tieing me to life itself. Then, everything became real again, and the sensitivity between my legs increased, the sensation of her soft touches growing unbearably strong. I felt my muscles clench and couldn't refrain from screaming out even though I bit my lip, my back arching while Cersei planted kisses along my breasts and belly.

At that moment, somebody knocked on the door. "Your Grace?", the hoarse voice of the Grandmaester called out. Startled, Cersei slid off me, rolling off the bed and throwing me my dress while putting on her own. "Come in", she called when we had both hastily settled ourselves, trying to look as casual as possible. "Your Grace, I- I hope I'm not disturbing you", Pycelle stammered in his usual manner before pausing when his eyes fell on me. "She can stay", Cersei said curtly. "Say what you came to say." Grandmaester Pycelle nodded, a frail, hectic gesture. "Your Grace, it's about the princess. Lord Tyrion has arranged for her to be married to Trystane Martell of Dorne." "What?", Cersei screamed. "I won't let him. If he thinks he can take away my only daughter just like that, he is sorely mistaken. That little bastard will regret the day he crossed me." Pycelle waited out her rage. "Have him brought to me", she ordered. "At once." The old man nodded and took his leave. Cersei turned back to me. "How dare he do this and expect to get away with it? I swear, when I get my hands on that joke of a Lannister..." She stopped, remembering at what we had been interrupted. "I'm sorry", she said. "I didn't mean to cast you aside like that." "I understand", I said as she sat down beside me, putting her arm around my waist. "She's your daughter." "I have to stop him", she muttered, staring steadfastly ahead. I took her hand. "We will stop him." Cersei gave me a grateful look before rising quickly when the door opened. She rushed at her little brother. "You monster", she greeted him coolly. "Myrcella is my only daughter, did you really think I'd let you sell her like a common whore?" "Myrcella is a princess, some would say she was born for this", Tyrion tried to defend himself. "I will not let you ship her off to Dorne as I was shipped off to Robert Baratheon!" Myrcella was lucky to have a mother like Cersei who fought for her, something the latter hadn't been granted. "Dorne is the safest place for her", Tyrion argued. "Are you mad? The Martells loathe us." "That's why we need to seduce them", he replied in a hushed voice. "We're going to need their support in the war your son started." Cersei pretended not to hear the slight, or else resolved to care about it later. "She'll be a hostage." "A guest", her brother countered unconvincingly. She shook her head. "You won't get away with this", she said, her voice taking on the smart-alecky tone she reserved for political discussions. "You think the piece of paper Father gave you keeps you safe. Ned Stark had a piece of paper, too." I felt a little stab in my heart at her words, and Tyrion looked at her disapprovingly. "It's done, Cersei." "No." She shook her head more vigorously and turned away from him. "You cannot stop it", Tyrion continued. "No!", she yelled, sending the contents of her desk flying across the room. Glass shattered and Cersei continued to look away from Tyrion, not wanting him to see the tears that were building in her eyes. "Just how safe do you think Myrcella is if the city falls? Do you want to see her raped, butchered like the Targaryen children? Make no mistake, they'll mount her pretty little head on a spike right beside yours." He had gone too far, I knew it. "Get out!", Cersei screamed at the top of her lungs, shoving Tyrion onto the steps in front of the door. "Get out." She sank down onto a chair and buried her face in her hand, sobbing silently. It wasn't until Tyrion had left that she truly let her tears fall. "I'm so sorry", I said, kneeling in front of her and putting my hands on her arms. "He will pay for this, I promise you." "He will. I won't let him do this."

She did, however, have no choice but to let Tyrion's plans unfold. Standing in between Sansa and the Hound at the quay, I watched as two boatmen pushed the ferry through the shallow water and listened to the High Septon's words. "May the Seven guide the princess on her journey. May the Mother give her health, may the Crone give her wisdom. May the Warrior give her courage, may the Smith grant her strength..." Said princess was crying, though, and her mother was not far from it either, although she maintained a stoic face. I heard her talk to Tyrion, standing on the staircase between her and Sandor: "One day I pray you love someone. I pray you love her so much that when you close your eyes, you see her face. I want that for you, I want you to know what it's like to love someone, to truly love someone, before I take her from you." It was a blood-chilling speech, and yet I could not help but feel that it was deserved for what Cersei's brother had done to her. I did not know him well, but from everything Cersei had told me and the scene I had witnessed between the two of them, her hate for him seemed reasonable enough. But then there was the fact that he had saved my sister from Joffrey, protected her from the cruelty he had been on the verge of exacting when Robb had won a victory against the Lannister forces. Was he truly bad or was this just degenerated sibling rivalry? Tyrion gave his sister a long, thoughtful look, saying nothing, before turning on his heel and heading back up the stairs. Tommen in front of me was crying now, too. Joffrey looked at him in disdain. "You sound like a little cat mewling for his mother. Princes don't cry." To my surprise and horror, Sansa talked back to him. "I saw you cry", she said. He turned to look at her. "Did you say something, my lady?" Luckily, her courage left her as quick as it had come. "My little brother cried when I left Winterfell." "So?" "It seems a normal thing." Joffrey was irritated by her remark. "Is your little brother a prince?" My sister denied. "Not really relevant then, is it?", he shrugged and left as well, causing the entire assembly to follow him.

We were escorted back through the city by a host of guardsmen, and I could feel a sense of unrest in the air. The occasional peasant exclaimed their praise to King Joffrey, but I thought I heard sniggering accompanying their voices. Gradually, the calls became more aggressive. "Bastard!" - "Please, Your Grace, we're hungry!" - "He's a bastard!" - "Bread, Your Grace, please!" Tyrion sent Prince Tommen down an alternate route in wise foresight. Not ten seconds later, a pile of dung hit Joffrey straight in the face. I didn't see where it had come from or how it had even reached him, but I knew for certain that this meant trouble. "Who did that?", the boy asked loudly. "Find the man who did that and bring him to me!" The Hound was trying to hold him back, but already, the guards were having their dear trouble holding the mob at bay. "Kill them! Kill them all!", Joffrey's voice cut through the air, repeating the same words that had led to the Mad King's demise all those years ago. A man struck down a guard, and chaos erupted all around us. Two Lannister soldiers were shielding Cersei from the attacks, plowing through the masses. I made to follow her, but Sandor Clegane pulled me back. "If you go alone, you'll die", he said bluntly. "But-", I protested, my eyes trailing uncertainly after Cersei. Was she safe? I had to stay with her! "You'll die", the Hound repeated, being interrupted by a man charging at us. The Kingsguard lifted his sword faster than I could comprehend and pierced right through the man's chest. Blood splattered onto my dress. "Come!", Clegane yelled, fighting his way through the angry crowd, and I had no other option but to follow him and pray I would get out alive.