So, I was thinking, "What if Cersei had gotten the sword she's always wanted? What if she and Jaime had not been treated that differently as kids?" and this thing happened. I don't even know what to make of it.
Disclaimer: GRRM is the man and owns everything! I just love his characters very much and write stories about them even though he is not very happy about it...
At the age of nine, Jaime gets a beautiful sword.
It is his nameday present. It is a long sword, shining as it catches the light of the fire. The handle is decorated with a golden lion which has two bright rubies in the place of its eyes. Their House colours and sigil, all in one in her twin brother's sword.
Cersei eagerly awaits for her own.
She never gets it.
Jaime practices with the master-at-arms, using his new sword. The master-at-arms has already praised the gift more than once. Even at this young age, it is fairly obvious that Jaime is going to be a great warrior.
Cersei watches him with envy.
She remains there, watching him as he shows his skills in the field. She does not understand why she does not possess a sword. They are of the same age. They are not of the same gender, but what does that matter? They are the same. There were times that they stepped into each other's clothing and no one understood the difference, not even their brilliant father. So, why are they treated differently?
The twins leave the training yard together, and at some point Jaime asks her what is wrong.
"I want a sword," she declares. "You got one, why shouldn't I?"
Jaime laughs. She wants to slap him. How dare he? She shouldn't have spoken to him; he could not understand. No one in this unfair world could understand.
"Little girls don't get swords," he says.
"I'm not little, I'm as old as you! I deserve to get a sword too!"
At the age of ten, Cersei is surprised by her nameday present.
"A sword?" she asks, looking at her father with bright eyes.
"Yes," he answers with the whisper of a smile on his face.
Cersei looks at it again. Is this a dream? Are her eyes playing tricks on her? Has some sort of vile magic affected her eye sight?
She doesn't touch it. She doesn't dare. She is afraid that it might disappear in a puff of smoke. She fears that Father or someone else might snatch it from her small and delicate hands and she shall never see it again.
"Jaime told me that you wanted a sword as well," Father carries on.
She doesn't know whom she loves more at that moment, Jaime for telling their father about her complaint and jealousy or Father for granting her, her wish.
"Thank you," she whispers.
She takes the sword in her hands. It's rather light and...skinny, if one can use that word when describing a sword. It has a lion's head with ruby eyes on its pommel, just like Jaime's. It is beautiful.
"I want you to promise me two things."
"Anything, Father," she immediately says, looking at him with her emerald eyes burning like wildfire. She will do anything to keep this lovely gift.
"One: you will be careful. I don't want you or anyone else to be injured because of your lack of attention or something of the sort."
"Of course."
"And two: you will not neglect your other lessons. You have many more things to be taught."
She nods. She will make Father and House Lannister proud with her knowledge and her skills.
"If you fail to do either of those things, the sword will be taken from you."
She does not fail.
She cannot lose the sword, it is the most precious things she owns. Furthermore, she wants to prove her value and worth to Father. Even now that she has been given the sword, she is treated differently from Jaime. She practices with her sword, yes, but she is not taught to fight. She is taught to smile and sing and please.
She keeps her promise, though. She sews and learns more and more songs to sing. She becomes a perfect lady, impressing everyone with her so natural grace and her courteous manner.
She learns the history of Houses, she learns sums, she even writes a few poems of her own.
She is the perfect daughter, always learning and doing what she must and never showing indifference.
The moments she lives for, though, are those she spends in the training yard.
Jaime watches her one day. She does not look at him so as not to be distracted. She tries her best to show her brother just what she can do. She knows that she cannot wield a sword like he can - no one can, she is sure of it - but she still wants him to see just how good she is.
At some point, he asks the master-at-arms to give them a moment of privacy. When he leaves, Jaime approaches her.
"Well done, sis," he tells her, with a warm and honest smile on his handsome face.
She smiles as well. "Thank you. See, I told you I deserve a sword!"
He chuckles. "You most certainly do."
He checks her grip on the hilt of the sword; he looks so mature, so full of knowledge and experience at that moment that she can't help but look at him with awe and admiration. He interlocks their fingers and raises the sword. He holds her in his loving embrace and says, "Let's do this together."
His breath ghosts against her ear as she follows him along this. She feels safe in Jaime's arms, as if nothing can touch her. She feels like she is a princess and Jaime is her knight, protecting her from all harm.
They slash against the straw target together. She giggles and her brother chuckles, his lips so close to her ear. They give the target another smack, greater and deadlier this time. Cersei feels so strong. She feels capable of anything.
She turns around in Jaime's arms and looks at him, smiling like a thousand suns. She sees the same expression on his face, the face that is so much like hers. She sees his approval and swells with pride.
"You have become really good at sword fighting, Cers."
She bites her lower lip. "I wouldn't have had the chance if you hadn't told Father."
She kisses him on the lips to show her gratitude. They have done this before many times, and both of them still think that it is innocent, just a gesture of love between two siblings.
At the age of sixteen, it is no longer innocent.
And Cersei oft thanks Jaime for things he does for her in other ways than a mere kiss. He repays her in kind. They never consider that what they do might be wrong. And if they ever paused to ponder that, they would simply not care.
Some nights they still practice with Cersei's sword. Jaime loves watching her fight. He tells her that she looks fierce and strong and dangerous and powerful. She looks beautiful as always, he says.
She is a fierce lioness, both with the sword in her hand and in bed. Jaime is the only one who has the pleasure of seeing both.
She does not let anyone take her sword away from her, not even when she weds Robert Baratheon. She does not see why a Queen should not have a sword in her possession. Besides, this is not a mere sword. It is her strength. So few women have had the good fortune of holding a sword in their hand and using it; she was not going to let her own sword go.
As Robert Baratheon is violent to her, she thinks of her sword. She thinks of getting it out of the dark corners of one of her chests and burying it in his filled-with-ale belly.
Jaime wants to kill him as well. He is willing to become the Kingslayer again for her, only for her. She fantasies of the two of them killing the King together, their fingers intertwined around the hilt of the sword just like when they were little and killed the straw man. She knows that it can't happen, but in her dreams she can see anything.
In her dreams, she is not the Queen but a warrior, and all her foes cower in fear before her.