Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of ASOIAF/ GoT and don't make any money with this story.
"My father was a traitor", Sansa Stark says with empty eyes and shaking hands. "He accused you of vicious crimes to claim the throne for himself. I shall never disappoint you like he did, your Grace." Her bright blue eyes speak of fear as she stares at Cersei who only raises an eyebrow. She briefly wonders if Sansa Stark knows what a terrible liar she is – if it wasn't her family name to save her, she would be dead within a day. She repeats the same words for months now – "My father told terrible lies about you and your brother, your Grace, but I stand true to Joffrey, my one true king and future husband"- repeats them hollow like something she doesn't even truly understand. Sometimes she just drops them into the conversation, no matter how unfitting, as if she feared the queen might forget the meaning of the words.
They are in Cersei's chamber, planning the wedding of her son and the Stark girl. The queen can no longer bear her big eyes and listless movements while discussing the perfect dress, and as soon as Cersei becomes indignant, Sansa speaks her little apology like a mantra. The queen looks directly at Sansa. "Do you believe your father?", she asks provocative. "Do you think that he spoke not accusations, but in fact the truth?"
The eyes of the little dove grow wide in shock. "Of course not, your Grace!", she replies a little too fast. It's nearly hilarious, how everyone knows it all too well and no one dares to speak a word. "You and Ser Jaime would never commit such horrible crimes."
"It is not a crime", Cersei responds harshly, "and all the things that they say about Jaime and me are real and true." She enjoys the sight of Sansas jaw dropping, of her hands shaking even more than they already did. Her eyes wander nervously around the room, as if to check if they are really speaking privately. The queen smiles cynical. "Are you shocked, little dove? Is it so hard to believe that I love the handsome, great Jaime Lannister, even though he is my twin brother?"
"Oh, without a doubt, Ser Jaime has all the redeeming qualities a woman should desire in a man, but… he is your brother!" Sansas voice is as thin as paper. "The gods don't favor it. It's a sin-"
"It is not a sin, it is love." Cersei always hated this narrow-minded people who didn't even try to see the things that connected her to Jaime. "Did you really think I could love this drunken, fat pig that called himself my husband and king? I loved Jaime from the day on that we were born and I never stopped. When he touches me I feel joy and excitement. When Robert touched me it made me want to vomit."
"But he was your husband", Sansa protests in a weak voice. Her skin is now as pale as her dress. "He was your king, the father of your –" She interrupts herself when realization hits her. Rapidly she breathes in. "Joffrey!", she whispers. "His blood is not pure-"
"On the contrary, sweetling. No one was ever more of a Lannister than him. The Targaryens wed brothers and sisters for centuries to keep their blood pure. If it is right for them, why not for us? The gods can't judge something just because it happens on the wrong side of the narrow sea."
"But the crown…", Sansa protests weakly. "If Joffrey isn't Roberts son, then he shouldn't sit on the iron throne. It is not his right-"
"You Starks and your rights, your honor." A sarcastic smile creeps onto Cerseis lips while she pours more wine into her glass. "Robert had no right to sit on this throne either. He stole it from Aerys Targaryen a long time ago. Just because you are someone else's son or not doesn't make you a better or worse king."
"Of course not, your Grace", the girl mutters under her breath. The look of pure horror on her face gives Cersei nothing but pure satisfaction. "But the gods don't allow it to be that way. You should try to love Ser Jaime like a brother, not like a lover."
"I love him as both and more." Almost dreamily Cersei wraps one of her golden curls around her finger. "Jaime and I are one person in two bodies. I know that you never experienced a connection even close to ours, but do you really think if the gods weren't on our side they would have blessed us with three beautiful, healthy children?" The queen rises her eyebrows in question. "There's only one monster in the family", she says with disdain, "and we both know who that is."
"Lord Tyrion", Sansa stated the obvious.
"Smart child", was Cersei's sarcastic response. "My little brother murdered my mother before he even took his first breath, and I am supposed to be the sinner? No." She vehemently shakes her golden curls. "Every day thousands of men get tortured, thousands of women get killed, even more get raped. Your honorable father killed people. Compared to all these dreadful crimes my and Jaime's doing shall be the worst? I don't think so."
Sansa swallows hard. She's never been too sure of herself, but right now the girl looks as confused and broken as she really is. Her eyelids flutter at the mention of her father. It must be the image of his rotting head on a stake that drives the tears into her eyes.
"Why are you telling me all this?", she asks fearfully with a complete lack of understanding. "Why do you think me worthy of knowing your most intimate secrets?"
"Because it doesn't matter", Cersei answers with a shrug of her shoulders. "Your father knew it too. Now see there it got him."
"My father died for that truth!" Hot, salty tears are now streaming down the young girl's cheeks. For a moment she looks shocked, surprised and afraid of her own shouting. Her voice turns painful into a whisper again. "And you called him a liar."
"I had no choice", the queen replies coldly. "It was him or me. Besides… he never truly understood how the game of thrones is played." Cersei drops her glass and makes a step towards Sansa. The girl flinches when the queen gently touches her cheek. "Don't make your fathers mistakes, little dove."
Sansa Stark stares at her like something had just died inside of her. Apparently it takes all her strength for her to swallow. "I won't, your Grace", she promises mechanically.
"Good child." In a sudden swing of mood Cersei grabs her cup again and tastes the wine on her tongue, bitter and sweet at the same time. "Now let us plan your and Joffrey's wedding, shall we?"