I make the bad decisions for simplicity. Wicked thoughts, rampant with destruction and warped desire, extend as naturally as breathing, for I was the golden boy that wanted for nothing. Firstborn son, swords effortlessly an extension of my hand, a born constant companion and lover in my sister, my life was uncomplicated in those decisions.
I make the good decisions, no matter the cost. Born a disappointment, unloved and abhorrent, there was nothing I could do to make it better. Firstborn daughter, dresses thwarted my awkward movements, a constant companion to silence and disdain, my life found meaning in the simplicity of a sword.
With Cersei, it was wrong but convenient. Robert Baratheon was a bloated drunk who provided an expedient excuse for Joffrey's pregnancy that brought me no joy. The squalling, pink potato that was our firstborn produced no warm, fuzzy feelings of fatherhood. I didn't care for him, nor the other two, as much as their mother did. I only wanted their mother…in every vulgar position I could imagine. Simple. Uncomplicated.
With my sword, everything was right however inconvenient. Enormous bones provided a frame for armor and muscles that brought me delight. The first kill, bloody and righteous, filled me with purpose. Every moment spent in practice or battle pushed me to be better. I only wanted to prove myself…equal to any man. Arduous. Complicated.
She was everything my lover was not; ugly, tall and muscular. Golden hair butchered to look like a man's. But it was her movements caught my attention, far beyond a common foot soldier's training. There was a viciousness to her fighting that I appreciated; that I craved. She couldn't care less if she was fighting a man or beast, each ultimately submitting to her blade. Oh that my sister would have been half the swordsman this maiden was, she would have been unstoppable.
He was everything Renley was not; golden, fair and vile. Cockiness proceeded him in reputation. But it was the moments when he was silent that caught my attention, few and far between. There were careful calculations underneath that boisterous voice that I appreciated; that I longed for. He treated everyone like they were beneath him, as if he himself was the king and they were submitting to his word. Oh that Renley had been spared, he would have put that man in his place.
Loyal. Her loyalty to her beliefs was unwavering, loneliness repeating itself in her silence even when I tried to get her to speak. Tolerance tested and strained as I taunted and baited her into retreating into her own mind. Her wise council constantly reflected in her eyes but occasionally simmered to her lips. I'd slaughter the man that tried to take her virginity if she doesn't kill him first.
Tortured. His mind constantly warred against itself, the habitual sins dredging up again and again even when I could see that he had tried to stop it. Arrogance crushed and replaced with a golden hand that crippled more his mind than his body. His bitter tongue subdued but never tamed. Gods slaughter the man that try and take his mind from him.
The pink dress and bear. The baths. Feeling her rub against my body while tied together until I wished for death. When did I lose myself in her sapphire eyes? Or did I find redemption? She constantly badgered me, argued with me, told me that I was a better man, when I clearly was not. Oathkeeper would never fulfill my debt to her but she would never know the depths of my debt. She made me make good decisions, even if it was to my own detriment, my own rejection. Someday, I will find her and call her 'Wench' and it will be enough.
The degradation and despair. The embarrassment. Chafing against both his body and his voice until I wanted to kill him. When did I find respect in his character? Or did I find my own devotion to him? He constantly belittled me, mocked me, told me that I should leave him, when I could not. Oathkeeper surprised me but could never replace the hand he lost in my stead. He made decisions that made me smile when he was not looking, to my own confusion. Someday, I pray he finds me so that I can hear him call out 'Wench' and it will be enough.