The Royal Party had arrived back into King's Landing and the Queen's first and primary business was to see the son that she had not seen in close to a month. She marched up the hundreds of stairs to the Prince's chamber only to be stopped by two Lannister guardsmen.

"Let me pass, you fools. I am here to see my son," she gritted her teeth at the guards, remembering them so that she could later toss them into the black cells for disobedience. "I am the Queen."

"His Highness is currently… indisposed…" One of the men told her, awkwardly.

Cersei remained silent and listened, dreading the methods of how her son was 'indisposed'. As she feared, she heard the faint slapping of wet flesh and distinguishing moans of her son's boyish voice. The Prince was at it, bedding whores and probably drinking… just like Robert, she thought.

"Let me pass anyway," Cersei hissed at the guards. "Or I'll have a talk with my father, Lord Tywin Lannister."

They quickly parted for her.

She came in and surely enough, her second son was thrusting his cock into some girl's arse. Cersei found it revolting for her boy to fuck with lowborn, filthy girls. She cleared her throat and Lionel immediately stopped, looking at his mother. He had blushed a deep, angry red colour and the girl, after being freed by him, grabbed the covers of the bed to cover herself up in the Queen's presence.

"Mother!?" He yelled out, embarrassed and red. His large manhood still erect as he faced her, although the more he looked at her the quicker it was dismantling. "What are you doing here?! Don't you know how to knock? I thought I left those two out there to stand guard! What use are guards to me if they cave in to you!"

"May we have a word in private?" Cersei asked, looking pointedly at the girl who eagerly nodded and tried to scurry out of the room.

"No. Stay." He told the girl, who halted, and then he turned to his mother. "You will wait. Outside."

"What—"

"No! You had disregarded and intruded me and you will wait. When I finish, I'll give you all the attention that you ask for." He fell onto the bed with the girl and started to kiss her lips passionately, but the Queen wouldn't let him.

"Lionel! Don't you dare! Guards!" She yelled and the two men from outside came in.

Before she could order them of anything, Lionel interrupted her. "You are discharged from my guard. Cowards!"

Cersei glared sharp daggers at him. Of all her children, he was the most troubling and challenging of all. Even his birth nearly cost her life; in fact, as she briefly thought about it Joffrey's birth was only slightly easier. "Escort the lady out."

When they approached the girl, Lionel produced a sword. "Take one more step boys and I will make sure neither of you walks out this room with your heads on." The men stepped back, confused about who to obey and what to risk.

"Mother you shall go and wait. Whatever you have to say can wait. I am not your little mummy's boy for you to order around." His emerald eyes were hard and stubborn and she knew that she could not win this. He was furious that she had interrupted him and he was unlikely to forgive her lightly; perhaps a little humiliation of her would make him forgive her.

She didn't say a word, but turned on her heels and marched out of the chambers down the corridor. She cursed him for being such a man now.

"You two can throw yourself off the Maegor's Holdfast's walls for all I care," Lionel placed his sword down and turned his back to them.

The two guards looked at each other, bowed to him and scurried away like rats.

"Guards," Lionel spat the word, lying beside his new mistress. "Cripples and lame men would do a better job at protecting me than those imbeciles." Then his eyes softened, reminded of the soft breasts and of the pleasing backside of the girl. "Now… where were we?"

"You were really brave," Maria whispered before she plucked his lips with her own. "Very manly," her hand reached towards his manhood and rubbed it to get its previous warmth and excitement back. He smiled with his perfect, white teeth and towered over her, fingers running across her pale white flesh. Tongue battled tongue on a battleground of their fused hot mouths.

He took her only once and contemplated to take her another time just to make his mother wait more, but she resisted and convinced him to greet his mother.

The Queen was less than pleased by her son's activities and tried to wipe the memory of walking in and her son's loud voice out of her head with wine. He finally did meet her, fully clothed, thankfully.

"You wanted to see me, mother?"

"Whores." Cersei's displeased face said everything.

Lionel simply sighed. "If I fucked noblewomen, you'd vanquish their father's lands and titles. If I fucked whores, you'd slit their throats. Even if I would have a wife, you would still hate her. No matter who I fucked you will still hate them. What do you want? I'm a man; I need to lay with women. And I'm tired of trying to please you."

"Don't be stupid." Cersei hissed at her son, but knew that he was right. She loved all her children fanatically, and would never trust anyone with them. "She'll betray you when she's paid enough."

"Not if she's only mine and owes everything to me." Lionel didn't want to discuss his business in the bed sheets with his mother. "What did you want, mother, before you interrupted me?"

"Your father had arranged a marriage for you and your twin to wed Ned Stark's daughters. More than he deserves."

"It baffles me. Who would be your ideal bride for me and Joffrey?" Cersei thought for a moment and in truth thought of no one. When Lionel saw his mother's blank mind, he smiled and aided her by changing the subject. "Surely this wasn't your only reason for seeing me?"

"It appears it was." Cersei had hoped to embrace the boy that she had left in the Red Keep and who she had missed for so long.

It was already enough that the great oaf, Robert, had heeded to the Prince's request that he should be raised with a different family. The Small Council advised the Tyrells. How dare those fat fools raise her son instead of her?! He had left when he was seven and returned only six months ago from Highgarden. 9 years it had been! It was hard for her to establish any type of connection with her second born. The boy liked to hunt, fish, swordfight, ride, read and… whore as it seemed, all activities that she abhorred. He didn't listen to her and he seemed to hate his true family, except for Myrcella and little, sweet Tommen. Then she was forced to part with him for another month so that she could venture in the cold, miserable North whilst he ruled King's Landing in his father's stead.

She had left in King's Landing a boy, and when she returned, to her great loathing, she found a man.

"I thank you for your message, Mother. And if that is all…?" He turned around to go directly back to his chambers and mistress.

"Your father and siblings and court are feasting. You should greet them," Cersei persisted. "They haven't seen you in months. Perhaps you should meet your betrothed and her family."

"I thought you despised her? Any girl I am to bed."

"I do despise, but I despise whores a great deal more," Cersei said in a cold tone.

"As you wish, my Queen Mother," Lionel mock bowed to her, grinning evilly as he left her. She absolutely hated him for growing so distant to her. Her heart broke at the sight of his confident smile.

Highgarden had raised her child better than she had raised her other three children combined. Joffrey was cruel and sadistic as well as foolish, Myrcella was sweet but lacked any deviousness and didn't seem fit to play the game; Tommen was too small to make a judgement of yet. Lionel was cunning, smart, confident and strong… things that another hand had embedded into him, not her own.

-000-

The feast was hosted in the Great Hall. Servants had been ordered by the king to set up long tables and prepare mouth-watering food. At the head of the Table was the King, gorging and drinking to his appetite's content. On his left was the empty seat of the Queen; along the left side were seats for the Queen's children. On his right were the Hand and the Hand's family.

Lionel Lannister approached the King first.

"Your Grace… I'm delighted to greet you back home," Lionel loomed over his father, placing an elbow on the back of his father's chair. The Iron Throne was placed on its stage. The feast was on the lower platform of the Great Hall and the King sat in a comfortable chair. For once.

"Look at this one, Ned. Can't call his old man 'Father'," Robert hit his friend on the shoulder to get his attention. He looked up at his second son. "How have you been, lad?"

"Well enough."

"Enjoyed sitting on that damnable chair?"

Immensely. "It's rather uncomfortable; don't you think Your Grace?" Lionel looked at the ugliest chair in the Seven Kingdoms. "But it does wonders for your back."

"Come and eat, Your Highness," Robert gestured to the Queen's seat, ignoring his son's comment. "What have you done to my kingdom while I was in the North?"

Lionel delightfully took the seat next to the King and smiled subtly but victoriously at his elder brother for being closer to the King than he was. Joffrey simply scowled and muttered a curse word under his breath.

"Your Grace after what you've been doing to your kingdom, I couldn't have done any worse."

The Hall boomed in Robert's laughter. Heads turned to look at the Lion Prince. A large, powerful hand slapped the back of the boy, which although was in good jest, nearly sent the boy flying across the banquet table.

"Boy is a brave one, eh Ned?"

"A lion's courage," Cersei soured the King's mood, entering the Great Hall, drinking some wine. Her hand rested on her seat in which her son sat.

Robert growled at the woman. He hated being reminded that his son had adopted his wife's house. The boy's rejection of his rightful Baratheon name, instead opting for his mother was an insult to Robert's masculinity and pride. Lionel had chosen the Lannister name some time before he left for Highgarden to start being the ward of Mace Tyrell. No doubt the Old Lion had a hand in it. "He's half stag, woman."

"Indeed."

"I suppose your mother told you about your betrothal, lad?" Robert drank from his goblet and wiped his grotesque mouth with his sleeve. "I present to you, your future wife," he pointed to a scrawny little girl sitting two seats away from the Hand of the King.

"My lady," Lionel courteously bowed his head but to his surprise and curiosity, she rolled her eyes. Her father scolded her for being rude and she, resentfully, apologised to him but that didn't dim his curiosity. "My Lord Stark, with your permission, may I walk your daughter among the halls of the Red Keep? With a chaperone if you so desire."

Feeling apologetic about his daughter's behaviour, Eddard Stark consented, even dismissing the need for a chaperone; something about his daughter 'being able to hold her own' gave him confidence and pride.

"So… my lady, how do you like the capital so far?" Lionel began the conversation. They were strolling among the walls with her on his hand. He had to grip her hand for she did not enjoy acting like a lady.

"I don't like it."

Once again, Lionel was thrown aback by her answer. "Oh… truly? Why is that?"

"I prefer the cold."

"Ah… I see a true Stark then."

"And the people in the Capital are despicable," she added.

"I have to agree with you there. You've been in the capital, what? Two hours? And you've already discovered that. I'm impressed." They continued walking down the corridors of the Great Hall. "Do you have someone in mind?"

"Yes."

"Would you care to share?"

"No."

"Why not? I'd share with you the heads I wouldn't mind to see on a spike." She allowed a smile on her cold face and he took it for a good omen. The exited the Great Hall and the eyes of the watchful lords and ladies. There was no longer any need for formality; he disconnected their hands and they proceeded to walk separately. He, being a teenager and thinking he was impressive, started to walk backwards. "Let's see… Janos Slynt is an absolute arse… Petyr Baelish could put the whole country to the torch… and my stupid brother Joffrey wouldn't be missed by anyone except Her Royal Pain in the Arse The Queen."

He noticed how the girl's eyes sparked with loathing when he mentioned his deranged brother and queen. Of course the imbecile had screwed something up. Why did Lionel even dare entertain the thought that he hadn't? The queen was another matter; be what she may, she was his mother now and forever.

"So… you hate my brother? Well, that's going to make it hard when the two of you are in-laws. Have no fear my lady, we share a common ground when it comes to the Crown Prince."

"But he's your brother?" Arya reasoned.

"Tell him that."

"You are of one blood."

"We hate each other more deeply than our father hates the Targareyns… Pray, what did happen that caused your hatred, my lady?"

"Don't call me 'lady'. I'm not a lady. I don't want to be a lady. And most importantly, I am not yours." Her eyes turned into sharp icicles which could impale her enemies. He did not intend to become an enemy.

"My apologies. What do you wish to be called?"

It took Arya a few seconds to come up with an answer. "Arya. Just Arya, will do."

Lionel nodded. "Very well. If you so wish, Arya."

They continued to walk among the halls, exchanging a jest or two. Lionel also discovered that his fiancé wanted to learn how to swordfight and he promised to teach her some basic techniques sometime later. It occurred to him that she thought him similar to his twin brother. That assumption was not hard; the twins were after all identical. To besmirch their shared face even more, Joffrey had ordered the Stark family pets to be killed.

She was wrong though.

Lionel had vowed to himself in his youth that he would never be his brother's shadow.

-000-

Howland watched from the shadows as his master treated his new betrothed. The Maester frowned at the couple and glared at the shuffling in the curtains.

No doubt a Tyrell spy despatched to tell the Queen of Thorns about this.

Let them know, Howland thought. Let the whole Kingdom know that the future king's wife is a Stark.