Forgive me if this chapter is a little trite. It seemed okay when I was writing it.
GRRM owns game of thrones and is trying to drown Westeros in Blood of my favorite characters.
There was never a greater sight. Twenty years to the Day of Rheagar's defeat of the rebellious Storm Lord Robert Baratheon and on the Eve of the New Century, The House of Targaryen, Lannister, and Tyrell were joined by blood. On the Altar of the Gods in the Sept of Balor the Blessed, Crown Prince Aegon Targaryen Sixth of his Name gave his name, his loyalty and his love to Margaery Tyrell, The Crimson Rose of Highgarden and Sister to heirs of The Reach and The Rock, Willas Tyrell and Tygent Lannister. Dragon, Lion and Rose would be united in their Victory.
It was as if the Gods had come to the Westeros. Everywhere Cersei looked she saw hair that flowed in silken rainbows, sparkling eyes in every color and shade, skin that glowed with inner fire. King Rhaegar stood above all. He had only grown more beautiful in the years since Harrenhal. His hair hung long and shone like burnished silver. Age had given the barest touch to his eyes; even from a distance, he radiated wisdom and strength like a sun. Time had stood still for the Sister Queens. Elia had always been a classic Dorish beauty and Lyanna had fully grown into her wild grace. Ageon was a Godling, palest gold and silver in his hair and smoking Amethyst for eyes. And Margaery could the Maid herself with her porcelain pale skin, Golden-Brown curls and eyes that shimmered gold.
Tullys, Baratheons, Martells, Arryns, Greyjoy and Starks had all sent their Queenly girls and Proud Strong men. All except House Lannister. No Lions of the Rock were here to dance with golden hair and glittering emerald eyes. Cersei shivered as she remembered Jamie's fate. Even the Victory of her Father and Husband could not save him from the King's Justice. As for her…
"And there is my Lady."
The jovial call startled her from fitful memories. Her Lord Mace had returned from the feasting tables. A gaggle of servant stood behind him, burdened of succulent dishes and rich wines. They lay out the feast at the table reserved just for the Lady of Highgarden.
Mace came forward and hugged her eagerly. A few of the older servants stared at her. They had seen her on her wedding day, remembered the fresh faced maid she had been. Her lord glared at the stragglers, who set down their dishes and left with due haste.
The Lord of Highgarden glared at their retreating backs. "I hate it when they look at you like that."
"It's almost like I've become hideous." She said blankly.
"If any other person had said that, I'd have his head."
She stared at the ceiling of the room lost in the memories of her youth. "I am hideous."
Mace turned hard brown eyes on her. "You are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms."
The touch on her hair was enough to silence her protest.
"You're beautiful because when I look at you and see all the things I love most in the world."
He ran fingers through dull, thinning locks. "You always brush this hair a half a hundred times before bed every night. Every night. I counted for year, and it was exactly half a hundred each time."
His hand roamed across her body, touching at her garish red cheeks. "I love these cheeks. Always so ready to soak up the Summer sun."
He touched each flaw of her body in turn, giving a reason he loved it: Wrinkles that showed the times she smiled, arms that rocked their sons to sleep, the scar across her hand where she rescued Garlan from a burning pan, thin lips he loved to kiss.
"And the womb," His hand came to rest on her amble belly, "that gave the world Five Strong and Brilliant Sons and a Queen for all the realm."
She stared at him. His brown eyes poured into her green, and in that moment, Cersei, with her bloated body and disfigured face, felt more beautiful than the stars.
