I'm a twincest trash. I can't even anymore.
Cersei checked her appearance in a high mirror ornamented with gold and precious gems on the frame. Her long blonde hair was shiny and tied up in a neat braid circling her head, her green eyes glistening as always, cheeks rosy. She straightened her gown, lingering a little longer on her still painfully flat chest. She wanted to have breasts already - it would mean she was a lady grown and maybe father wouldn't watch her every step then and she wouldn't have to deal with all the dull nans and other women who thought they could be cleverer than her. On the other hand she wouldn't be able to switch places with Jaime and she'd lose the chance to escape the ordeal of being taught to be a lady at least every once in a while. Maybe she didn't want to be grown up so soon.
There was a more pressing matter at hand though - Father had summoned her to him before he sat down with his ministers to do whatever a lord had to do to be one. Cersei wanted to know what that was but Father would never allow her to be present even though he did make Jaime come despite her brother's obvious disinterest. Cersei thought it unfair - she was the same age Jaime was and as much as he denied it a great deal smarter. Septa Celyne had told her she was to be a lady not a lord - as if that explained anything! Cersei tried to reason with them - crying and begging never led anywhere, she knew that much, and she was too proud to be seen weeping anyway - but they never paid any mind to her. Yes, men do often go to wars and leave ladies behind but that's why lords have councellors and maesters. It's not a lady's job to run an estate. Or at least so she was told.
Cersei was not foolish enough to believe Father had finally changed his mind. That was why she tried to hurry, running the stairs quite unlike the lady she aspired to be. Lord Tywin Lannister never liked to be kept waiting least of all by his children who according to him had no other job but to obey him. If he called her before his council's meeting, he was likely to be quite cross with her. As she turned around the last corner and appeared in a long corridor leading to Father's chamber, she saw Jaime running from the other side. They grinned at each other and sped up, both trying to reach the room first. Cersei wanted to laugh but knew she couldn't. The last thing she needed was being caught acting like "a half-witted stable boy" as Father often put it. She found it demeaning because there was no way a halfwit could run so fast with the impossible gown getting in her way.
She ran fast, faster than she thought possible in her heavy, restraining dress but Jaime was already growing to be a man and a strong one. Despite being a bit closer as the race started, Cersei arrived second, falling into Jaime's waiting arms.
"You too?" He asked as Cersei caught her breath.
"Apparently," she muttered, her merriment vanquished.
"What did we do again?" Jaime wondered. He put a loose lock of Cersei's hair behind her ear as she fixed his collar. They often took care of each other's looks they barely noticed it anymore.
"I don't have a slightest idea. I didn't do anything to the little imp since Father threatened to make me go to a ladies' party in Lannisport. I've been taking the stupid singing lessons – or at least you have, right? – and I haven't broken anything in a long time." Cersei thought aloud.
"Maybe he's nervous 'cause we were so good," Jaime smirked. "There's only one way to find out. After you."
"A man enters a room first," Cersei muttered through gritted teeth as she reached for the doorknob.
"Just an unfamiliar room. If I know there's no danger for you there, I should make you go first," Jaime pointed out.
"There's a lot of danger in there, you craven," she retorted and finally opened the door.
Lord Tywin Lannister was sitting behind a table, studying a map or a letter or whatever it was so important – Cersei could not know because she was a lady. He was wearing clothes others might see as for special occasions but she knew it was his homely clothing. Sun was shining on the top of his head, making it obvious he wasn't a youth anymore. Cersei wanted to stick her tongue at him but she didn't dare.
Jaime stood by her side and brushed his hand against hers. She looked up and smiled at him.
"Here you are," Father spoke at long last. Cersei concentrated on him fully again and she only imagined Jaime straightened beside her since she didn't stand close enough to feel it. She wanted to take his hand and run away. "Took you well enough."
Cersei wanted to object. He made them wait ages and now he's scolding them for coming late?! She glimpsed a slight shake of Jaime's head and kept her mouth closed, biting her tongue to occupy it somehow.
"And a nice pair you came again," Lord Tywin went on, giving them a scolding look. "Tell me, Jaime, do you braid her hair? And you, Cersei, do you dress your brother?"
Cersei acted first and thought second. She looked at her twin with her emerald eyes widened with fear. He stared at her, his expression just as shocked as hers.
"Can't you answer one question without consulting one another?" Father asked harshly. He made a few steps towards them and Cersei finally admitted to herself she was terrified. She looked down in hope that her father will just say what he wanted to say and allow them to leave.
"I've been informed you throw tantrums when you're supposed to sleep separately. Is that true?" Father asked sternly; Cersei thought she could feel her hair burning where he looked at her.
"Yes," Jaime replied, bolder than Cersei could ever hope to be in such a moment.
"Are you a baby? Are you a craven halfwit?" The words stung like a slap to the face. Cersei thought she owed Jaime some support so she looked up again. Her brother didn't pay her any mind.
"No. I want to protect my sister." Jaime answered, defiant. Cersei knew this wasn't the way to go but she couldn't think of anything to say to shut Jaime up.
"Your sister is safe here at Casterly Rock," Father growled, "the walls, moat and guards will see to that. There's no need for you to sleep in your sister's bed."
"It gives me comfort," Cersei murmured softly. She would not weep but she was going to look like it. "I'm often plagued with nightmares."
"I'll ask maester Allaerd to give you some potion," Tywin Lannister was a fierce enemy on the battlefield but even more, he was sharp-witted and always had an answer for anything.
"I don't want-"
"Be quiet, girl! You are not babes anymore. You want to learn how to swordfight and ride a horse, Jaime? That's a man's job or a youth's. If I catch you in the same bed as Cersei again, you'll never hold a sword in your hand. Is that understood?" Lord Tywin towered above them threateningly. Cersei wished to say a humble "yes, Father," and leave but she wasn't good enough for him, not even for a humiliated answer.
"Understood." Jaime nodded.
"And you," Lord Lannister turned to his daughter, "remember your place. You're a lady. Ladies don't sleep in beds of other men but their husband."
"Yes, Father," Cersei mumbled. Ladies don't get caught in beds of other men but their husbands, she thought but she kept it to herself. She was not going to let her father get between her and Jaime. If she wanted to be with Jaime, she would be and not even the Seven would stop her from getting what she wanted.
"Good. Now leave."
Cersei turned towards the door and fled as fast as she dared. She anticipated the situation that followed.
"Not you, Jaime," Lord Tywin's pierced the air sharply. Cersei wished Jaime stopped defying their father this way because it didn't lead anywhere. Unless he wanted to make the lord think he was stupid in which case he was probably doing a great job. Cersei took a short glance at him when she was leaving the room. He smiled and winked at her. She didn't dare to return his expression but she nodded slightly to show she got the message. Father couldn't notice it but she knew Jaime was waiting for it. He grinned again. They were going to keep ignoring Father's regulations as they had many times before. It filled her with hope and love for her brother. She could hardly wish for a better relationship with him. If only they didn't get obstacles in between them all the time.
Cersei walked to her chamber and shut the door behind her. Maybe if she pretended she was still asleep septa Celyne wouldn't dare to disturb her. She might fake illness. Or she might hide somewhere. The possibilities were endless.
She decided to just wait for whatever her fate had in mind. Hopefully it was Jaime's embrace and smile, maybe even some pie or fruits to eat in between kisses.
Cersei knew kissing your brother was supposed to be wrong. But so was going outside during the night, pretending you were a boy when you're a girl, lying to your father and all sorts of other things she did almost every day. To be completely honest, she did most of those things because of said brother. But she also did a lot of good because of him. She wanted to impress him, to earn his affection and to make him proud of her. He was becoming better at the four "F"s of what was supposed "manly" – fighting, fuddling, feasting. She could only hope the last F – females – was embodied hundred per cent by her.
Jaime was a man; it went without question even though he was still a boy by age. He was the heir, the golden boy, the pet. She was just a little girl, useless until she bled for the first time. She was insecure about it and she often worried that Jaime has already laid with a woman because he was tired of waiting for her. She hated her immature, child's body and its stubborn refusal to grow alongside with her mind. Cersei didn't realise that while Jaime would not be the youngest boy to bed a woman, he wasn't old enough for it to be normal. Sometimes she forgot he wasn't years older. She never fully understood that she was – in fact – the eldest.
Cersei stared on the ceiling and felt tears rising in her eyes. She started blinking them away, trying to force them back as she had done so many times in the presence of her father. But they welled up too quickly, too much. And finally she let go. She was alone. She had a right to cry from time to time. Everyone expected girls to cry and she was a girl after all.
Cersei realised that once she's become a woman for Jaime, she'll be a woman for everyone else as well. She wished to be able to give him what he wanted – what they both wanted – but she also wanted to spend more time with him, more time as a child, as someone you have to keep home and feed before you can send them away.
There was no way. Cersei couldn't imagine a situation in which she could make her Father act like she was a baby and keep Jaime at the same time. If he was mad about them sharing a bed now, she couldn't imagine what might happen if he caught them as adults. He can never catch us, she thought, not ever again. She knew – with the same certainty – she was never going to let go of Jaime. He was a too great part of her life, they've always shared everything. It only seemed logical to her to share her bed with him too, and her first experience with being with a man just like they saw each other learning to walk, talk and eat. If she could choose, she'd never even speak to another man but she knew it wasn't a possibility. She was too precious to be a quirky old maid; all the ten years she had seen were just a preparation for a great investment, waiting for her body to become sellable.
The idea made her even more miserable and she lay on her right side facing the wall and she embraced her pillow with both hands. It was too soft, too pliable but she sought comfort in it nonetheless. She buried her face in it and tried to calm down. She was a Lannister – a lioness – and so far she was acting like a scared mouse. She was supposed to be roaring but she was just squealing. And it wouldn't stop. All the anger, fear and sadness, her insecurity and self-consciousness that she had suppressed for so long flooded her and threatened to drown her. She couldn't stop sobbing if her life depended on it, her chest hurt as if it was being torn apart.
Her only reassurance in times like this was Jaime's love for her. She remembered his vows to stay faithful to her no matter what; she thought of the time he drew a heart and gave it to her to represent she was the only one who would ever claim it. She remembered how he told her everything about what happened on Father's councils, she smiled fondly when she remembered the time he had spent hours kissing every inch of her child-like body. He never complained about it, he said the most beautiful flowers bloom last and promised to wait for her until the end of time if she needed it. She never believed him fully. She wanted to but it was so difficult because he was already so grown up, so mature, so manly.
…
Jaime could swear all these council meetings were getting longer and more tedious every day. He didn't know whether it was just his father making him experience more difficult and complicated situations and deal with more serious issues but he hated it. Cersei would love to try to solve the trouble with the protesting folk, he thought bitterly, she would wipe the floor with their useless ideas. Cersei was a goddess; smart and resourceful and so strong. Jaime had met many girls and they were all so boring and plain. He never understood how any man could marry if they all were like this. Mother couldn't have been, Jaime reasoned, else Cersei would be just as dull.
Sometimes they looked at an old picture of their mother they kept in matching lockets around their necks. They would hold each other and just stare, trying to summon recollections of the woman who gave life to them but the only thing they could remember were each other's arms. Everyone said Mother was the most beautiful woman Casterly Rock has ever seen and Jaime believed it. He was convinced however that Cersei would grow to be even fairer. She was not just beautiful, she was brilliant and radiant and her soul shone bright through her emerald eyes.
Jaime knew of Cersei's insecurities and it made him angry. She was better at all the councils and ruling things – in fact she was better at pretty much everything but sword-fight and maybe she'd get better at that too if the let her practise. She ought to have been Father's favourite, she should be the one to inherit Casterly Rock. And yet, she was pushed aside, almost as low as the dwarf Tyrion. She learned to sing and please and look courteous and pretty so that one day, Father might take her away from Jaime and give her to someone else. Someone who didn't deserve her; Jaime wasn't entirely sure he deserved her either but he tried his best to earn her affection and he was ahead of everyone else by holding onto her since their very first breaths.
She must be sad now, Jaime realised. He could feel some force pulling him closer to her, like he always did when she needed him. She never came to him; as if the magnet between them was just one-sided, attracting him towards her, over and over. He reached her floor carefully, looking around searching for any sign of vigilance in front of her chambers but he couldn't spot anyone sniffing around. He ran nonetheless; the smaller the chance of someone catching him, the better. It had nothing to do with needing her. He was a man, he didn't need his sister all the time.
Cersei never locked her door. It was always Jaime who sneaked up into her room and closed it, sealing their little world shut behind them. He needed her too much to care.
"'Sei?" he whispered as he turned the key. She was on the farther side of the room with her feet and back to him. He didn't hear her sending him away so he walked to her. She was curled as if something hurt her and she didn't respond to his words. Maybe she's asleep.
Jaime sat down on the bed beside her and laid his hand on her shoulder. She was trembling underneath, still silent and closed. He climbed into the bed with her and pressed himself against her back. He snugged as close as possible and draped his arm over her protectively. She stirred and took his hand with hers, pressing it to her bosom. He could feel her heart racing underneath.
They lay like that for some time, silent, unmoving and just together. The tension started to leave Cersei, her breathing evened and finally she sighed, relieved. Only then Jaime spoke again.
"I hate them. I hate them all for hurting you."
Cersei shook her head and turned around to face him. She smiled a little without trying to hide the tears staining her cheeks. She laid her head on his other hand resting on her pillow and closed her eyes for a little while. He planted a soft kiss into her hair and rested his forehead against the crown of her head.
"I love you," he whispered and she sobbed again. "There's nothing and no one I'd put before you."
She slipped her hands down his tunic and embraced him so tight he feared she might break him. She was strong, stronger than some of the boys Jaime fought with. She was a girl but she was a fierce little thing.
"I'll always be yours," he whispered into her hair. "Don't fear. I won't forget you."
She nodded slightly but she didn't loosen her grip on him.
"I'll never give you up. Ever. You belong with me."
"Oh shut up," she growled and pressed her lips against his. She always stopped him from saying too many of the sweet words but he knew she needed them. He continued reassuring her of his love even if with acts instead of words. She rolled him on his back and pulled the tunic over his head.
"He thinks he can own you when he puts his stupid little lions on you." Cersei growled as she threw it on the ground. He didn't point out she had a lion upon her breast too. That wasn't really the issue. Their clothes created the differences between them; her gown marked her as weak, pathetic, useless while it made him the fighter worth attention. She yanked his breeches off forcefully and finally rose on her knees to allow him to undress her too. He unlaced it quickly, releasing her from it and running his hands down her bare torso. His thumbs circled her nipples with curiosity and she hissed at him.
"Are you mocking me?" She spat. She still looked so distressed and small. Maybe getting all grown-up lovers with her wasn't the right thing to do in the moment. Maybe all she needed was to get out of their smallclothes too to just lie together like they did when it still didn't matter who they were.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, "and you're smart and kind to me and awful to everyone else and you're the only one I want."
"I'm a child." She sniffed.
"You're not," he objected. His palms went discovering her body again and this time she let him. He lingered on her breasts again and he stretched his hands over them, showing he had to curl them a little.
"You're not a woman yet but you're no child." Her nipples did a funny thing when he ran his thumb over them. She stifled a gasp. She's not giving up easily today. Jaime's hands traced the muscles in her stomach all the way down to her hips. He wished she could see what he saw. She was changing every day. Her belly button looked different, her stomach was not round anymore and he had to move his hands further to hold her hips.
"May I?" he tugged at her smallclothes gently. She nodded.
Jaime rolled them over so that now she was lying on her back with him kneeling above her. He was careful not to do this too often. She already thought he was pushing her aside.
He slipped his hands into her smallclothes and pulled it away.
"You lied," he grinned as she lay there completely naked.
"I didn't," she objected, "I still don't have breasts. I still haven't bled."
" You wicked little thing," he laughed as he buried his nose in the soft, feeble golden hairs on her groin.
"It's gross," she whispered.
He stopped playing with her and immediately lay beside her. He took her face between his hands and kissed her nose.
"Nothing about you is gross," he promised.
"This is," she shook her head, "I don't want it."
"I guess you could shave it off," he didn't sound very convinced.
"But?"
"You can't be a woman without it."
Jaime blushed so hard his face was Lannister crimson. It was strange talking to Cersei about these things.
"I know."
"Whatever you are, you're my beautiful sister, my golden lioness and my favourite person," Jaime knew she was in a bad shape today. She hardly ever required so many sappy, sentimental words from him.
"I know."
She didn't know. But she had to pretend she did. Maybe if she said it over and over, it would eventually come true. And she saw how miserable her sadness made her brother. I must not hurt Jaime. He doesn't deserve it. She smiled softly and looked Jaime in the eye.
"I know."