A/N: Hey, guys! It has come to my attention that the Hound is, in fact, younger than Cersei. I'll be editing that part, thanks for the vigilance, guest reviewer! Anyway, here's your tiny but plot-conclusive chapter!
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Chapter 7
The next few weeks were strange, but Cersei had expected that.
She was not surprised when she was locked in her room.
She was not surprised when Tyrion was banned from communicating with her again.
She was not surprised when her engagement with Rhaegar Targaryen was dropped. The man was marrying the plain, honest Elia Martell in her place. That made her laugh, at least. Elia Martell was the furthest thing from her, it was as if they were making sure no mishaps like Cersei would happen again.
She was not surprised when Tywin Lannister, the disgraced Warden of the West and Hand of the King, decided that the best way for her to repent would be to have her get married to the first suitor who crossed their path.
And who better than Jon Arryn, the sixty-year-old widower with no children and a grand House to his name?
Cersei had expected Tywin to exact his revenge on her, but she hadn't expected to be holding a soft white hand on the altar, a blue cape draped over her shoulders, the sigil of Arryn stamped upon them like a seal on property as she was dragged from her home, her shorn hair covered up by a red felt cap.