Cersei checked Jaime was sleeping soundly before starting, it was fundamental for her project regarding her twin knight.
To be sure, the first time she touched his shoulder slightly with her fingers and he turned around, not looking into her eyes, but embracing her tight again, as after their conversation about Tommen, when he kissed her passionately and then dragged her to the bed to make love.
It was a sweet and sensual embrace, but without urgency; they had already abandoned themselves to their mutual passion and Jaime had led her to pleasure.
The second time, stroking his cheek, he murmured something in his sleep, but did not move.
The third time Cersei was sure sleep had conquered Jaime, so she moved the sheet that covered him to the chest and kneeled on the bed to contemplate the sculptural body in the light of the candles.
Cersei wanted a different glow that evening, she had asked the maids for more oil in the lamps because she needed light and not only to admire the beauty of her twin.
With her hand she picked up a light dressing gown from the bottom of the bed to cover herself, because a window was open and the curtain swelled with the chilly breeze coming from the West, bringing the scent of the earth.
It was the East wind that brought the rain, the wind that Cersei loved less, because the wind of the West was also the scent of home, of the Rock, of her memories.
Jaime was angry that evening, he was furious about the High Sparrow, he was intolerant of the distorted use of religion that was being made and he was irritated with Tommen.
The uniform and the white cloak had been such an important part of his life for a very long time, the reason why he had given up everything else, first only for Cersei, then also for their children,
Since he returned with Marcella's corpse, something had changed in Jaime, Cersei had noticed. The revelation of Myrcella's joy at being their daughter had upset Jaime profoundly.
And Tommen didn't know. Tommen was unaware of everything, it was too dangerous for him to know or even suspect the truth.
Thus Jaime had taken off his silver armour and white cloak in the throne room, forever, becoming the Lord Commander of the Lannister army, no more of the Kingsguard. His rage exploded when the twins remained alone in the solar.
Cersei passed her hands with wide open fingers on his shoulders: Jaime was so different from when as children they could swap clothes and she could hug him completely, now his chest was much wider, he was half a head taller than her.
She could not use herself as a model for what she intended to do and although over the years the regret of not being like him, identical, had waned, it had never fully disappeared; if they had really been the same, also the same sex, as the firstborn she would have been the heir, but then what would have happened to them? Forced to live away from each other, one heir, one knight, married to two women who could never match the beauty and strength of pure lions, condemned to an equally impossible passion?
Only their hair was the same, now, golden manes thinner and shortened, but always a mane.
Cersei mapped out his spine, all the vertebrae, one by one, each vertebra reminded her of a moment in their lives, from the first happy days together, to her marriage to Robert, from the birth of the children to, Joffrey's and her daughter's painful deaths.
Cersei felt she was no longer the same without Myrcella, her little girl had been her pride, the most beautiful thing she had managed to create.
Was she still in time to have another, a blonde, green-eyed babe like the two of them?
Were fights, wars, dragons and dragon queens really that important compared to their daughter's corpse?
The charges against her were already obvious, the situation wouldn't change much with a babe in her belly. But things would take a different turn soon, she hoped, because she had a greater project to carefully complete.
She wanted revenge against those who had killed her daughter; it was in vain, Myrcella would never come back to life, nothing could give her back. Cersei knew it and at the same time her desire to destroy them was getting stronger day by day.
Touching Jaime's back, down towards his slender hips, the very hips she anchored to when they made love, measuring there and feeling the strength of the muscles under his skin, Cersei asked herself what her choice would be between power and another child, who would be her brother's, publicly, without a convenient husband.
After Joffrey, Jaime had promised her another child, but he had not understood that it wasn't easy for a mother to replace her firstborn with a new babe; now that he had become a father, Jaime understood the recklessness of his words
What could be considered shameful no longer mattered to her: to have another child like Myrcella Cersei was ready to defy gossip, she was also ready to walk away from the court and return to the Rock with Jaime, free from the kingsguard's commitments, free from his vows and finally a true Lord.
Their castle would be impregnable, the enemies of the Lannister house would not dare to challenge the Lord and the Lady of the Rock, their army would protect Tommen, as soon as Cersei freed herself of those who had dared to challenge her.
Cersei hoped Jaime's seed inside her could give them another babe. After Tommen's birth, she had taken precautions, she had done her duty by giving the kingdom the heir and the spare.
She continued to record the spans of her brother's body mechanically and then put her hands in the other way on his back. Jamie was almost forty years old, he was still in good shape and strength; Cersei reached his shoulders again, then went down his arms, pausing for a moment at the stump. It didn't seem to her so repugnant and horrible anymore, the stump was a part of Jaime, he was a part of her and so even the stump - like her short mane - was them.
She would think of a way to tie his fake hand firmly to the vambrace, so that he could use it better to control the mount.
She touched the edge of the stump, stroked it, a gesture she would avoid while Jaime was awake, because she had given him the golden hand, the hand that was supposed to hide the lack of hand. The pride of being perfect was still alive in her.
Jaime was naked, not only without clothes in their bed, but also inside, he no longer had a definite role, he was not a kingsguard, he was not a father, he was not an uncle, he was not a commander.
He was just Cersei's twin and lover and she didn't want to lose him, this was no longer possible. No one would force her to marry again, Tywin was dead.
Cersei was really free, for the first time in her life, a sensation that made her feel ten years younger, happy; anything could happen, she had overcome adversity of all kinds, shame, pain, Jaime was by her side, nothing else mattered, only them.
Maybe they weren't the young lions anymore, but they were still lions, with sharp claws, ready to strike, and Jaime needed a new protection, both for the inside and the outside.
She moved because she couldn't reach her twins' legs, moving silently and gently without sinking her weight too much on the mattress, so Jaime wouldn't wake up.
The legs, the rocks on which his brother's body was based, the muscular thighs, the knees, the hocks and even there with her hand she designed all the contours, she had to be absolutely sure, remember every measure and then report them.
Jaime had to shine like the sun with lions on him, that would protect him and bring him back to her, but even Cersei herself needs protection, the High Sparrow was conquering too much power at court, their last cub was prey to intrigues and pressures against his family. Tommen was not as strong as Myrcella, he could not know the truth, only Jaime could protect their son, even if his orders were to leave.
A burden on the heart, a shiver in her guts, the memory of ancient prophecies.
The answer to her anguish suddenly came, like an illumination: Tommen had to stay with Jaime, leave with him, conquer Riverrun and show the soldiers that he was in the field with them.
She decided to talk to Kevan and Qyburn as soon as she got up, to convince them to make the king command the military expedition, protected by Jaime and safe only with him.
That way, she would be able to face her enemies alone and to plan her revenge; the king was still a cub who was supposed to stay with the lion protecting the pack, while the lioness caught prey.
Jaime is stubborn, he wants to put on his new armour by himself even at the cost of needing thrice the time, because the leather straps are hard and slippery. The polished metal, all black and gold, is perfect, without any scratches, he already craves to see some signs on the surface, proof that he'd fought and won.
The reliefs of the rampant lions shine in the light of the oil lamps. He has never seen such beautiful armour, one so representative of his house, he had convinced himself that the kingsguard wore the best and instead inside the new one he feels stronger, safer, protected by the Lannister lions.
Cersei's gift is perfect, created and forged custom made for his body; it is lighter than the old one in some joints that make easier to handle the sword or the spear and at the same time it is reinforced with plaques of more durable quality on vital parts.
Cersei walks around Jaime, an empty cup of wine in her hand, more as a habit than a desire to drink, admiring the final result of her commitment, made in a few days. It's all right, the army is ready to leave at dawn, but Jaime has a question haunting him, he has to ask it to Cersei before he leaves.
"Sweet sister, how did you convince Tommen to go at war with me?"
"Aren't you happy to be with him? You two, away from the court and all the politics you hate."
"Sure, but I thought..."
"Don't think. Tommen never moved from the capital, he remembers almost nothing about our journey north."
"I'm happy to spend time with him, I promised him I'd always be there for him, but I had few opportunities to do so."
"Then go, dear brother. You and our son go and fight our enemies and then come back safely to me."