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The Cub

281 AC, Harrenhal.

"You can't tell anyone." His sister cooed softly in his ear, squeezing him tight to her bosom.

The child laughed, a confused thing, throwing his small arms around her. "What does it matter, you were just playing! Tyrion and I do it all the time!"

They'd used to, anyway, he corrected himself in his mind, a bout of sadness shrouding his mood.

If only his little brother had come to the Capital, too. They'd still play together all the time, like he'd said, and maybe the Red Keep, and Father's Tower, wouldn't have felt quite as lonely as they did.

Or maybe, Cieran worried, the Dragon would just laugh at him, too.

He didn't like the thought, and he didn't want that for Tyrion, not for him, so perhaps it was better that he was still at the Rock, with Aunt Genna and Uncle Tygett.

And he supposed things had been better, ever since the Tourney. Well, they'd started bad, with those three bullies, but then they'd been better.

"That's exactly it." He was lulled out of his musings by tender words, and a kind voice. He had to twist his head around, to see his other brother. Jaime was sat at the far corner of their sister's crimson tent, like he was being punished, his clothes ruffled and golden hair disheveled. "Just playing, nothing worth talking about."

Cieran held his older brother's gaze for a few moments, green on green, before his lips pursued.

"If I don't tell anyone." He started, slow and careful, just for the rest of his words to be drowned by a teeming excitement. "If I do this– I'm doing you a favor, right, brother? Right?"

Jaime didn't answer, not immediately, his eyes glancing up, and Cersei held him a bit tighter, but Cieran didn't mind. She'd always liked hugging him tight, at least ever since she'd started liking him, and tight hugs were better than no hugs.

"Maybe." His brother finally answered, smiling still. "Shouldn't you just heed your older siblings, though?"

"But Father always says Lannisters pay their debts." Cieran looked up, face scrunched into a frown. "Right, sister?"

An answer didn't come immediately, once more, yet, this time, when he felt his hair being pulled a little, Cieran realized his sister must have been trying to recall. She always got mad when people touched his hair, and she was always very careful with it herself.

"After we have supper with the Dragon," he prodded gently, after a few more breaths. "Remember? Father always says that."

"The Dragon?" His brother queried. He'd stood from his stool, and moved closer. "His Majesty, you mean?"

His sister pulled his hair again.

"How many times does Father have to tell you not to call the King that?" Cersei admonished him, quick and sharp, in that tone she used whenever he did something bad. "And 'A Lannister pays his debts' is only for Lannisters, remember? You're not a Lannister. You're just a– "

Her mouth clicked shut before she could finish, but she needn't go on for him to know what she was about to say, and Cieran felt a burn behind his eyes, as he gazed down at red and golden sheets.

I'm sorry. The bastard wanted to say, holding back tears. I'm sorry that i'm not like you, and like Father, and like Jaime. And even like Tyrion, even if he's small. I wish was, but i'm not, and i'm sorry.

He missed, then, the rare, scathing look one twin sent the other, but he couldn't not feel, even if he'd tried, the loving softness on his brow.

"Don't be sad, silly." Cersei hummed, rocking him back and forth. "I just meant you shouldn't be saying those things to your siblings, is all."

The child didn't look up. "I don't think that's what you meant." But he had to, when a finger sneaked beneath his chin.

"You know I love you very much, right?" His sister kissed his cheek, brushed it with her own, her green eyes warm and gentle. "You're my sweetling, i would never do or say anything to hurt you."

Yes, he knew. He knew she was right, and he knew he was being simple, like the Dragon sometimes said he was – and like Cersei always said he wasn't, whenever he did – but he still couldn't quite manage smiling back at her.

"What about our debt, brother?" A hand rubbed his arm. "You're right, afterall, we do owe you. And if you ask for something small, or at the very least not too big, we might just be able to get it for you. "

His brother's words didn't make him feel much better. "It's not something small." It wasn't.

"Come, now," Jaime laughed. "What could you possibly ever ask for that your older siblings can't afford? A ship filled with Aunt Gennas?"

"One Aunt Genna would make a ship sink." Cieran replied, his lips twitching, up or down he didn't know. He missed his Aunt, too.

"That's not a nice thing to say, little one."

The child shrugged, tame and restrained. "Some guards at the Rock said that. They said her tits are so big that they'd make a ship sink."

His sister made a choking sound, and his brother coughed in his fist.

"Don't say that word, Kiki." Cersei chastised him, her tone altogether different from before. "That word that starts with t. It's a bad word, and no good child should say it."

Cieran frowned. "But when I told Aunt Genna, she didn't say anything about it. She only said those guards were being funny and she just left for a bit."

"Did you see them again?" Asked Jaime.

His head shook. "Aunt Genna said they were hired elsewhere. She said they're court jesters now."

His brother coughed again, and Cersei kissed his cheek once more. "You still shouldn't say that word, Kiki. For me. Please."

The child just nodded. He'd do anything for his sister, and not saying a word wasn't really anything big, anyway.

"Well, as riveting as that tale was, you still haven't revealed what you want with your debt, brother." Jaime winked, at the end.

Cieran smiled, small and shy. "It's stupid, really. I was being silly. I shouldn't be wanting things from my older siblings when they ask me to do something."

His brother's brows drew together for a moment, quicker that he could see, and then a grin played on his lips.

"No brother of mine is silly, or asks for stupid things." Jaime spoke, light but firm. "Tell me what you want and I swear i'll get it, or i'm not Ser Jaime Lannister, the best swordsman of the Seven Kingdsoms."

Cersei let out a huff, and Cieran a giggle. "But you're not the best! The Sword of the Morning is the best!" Everyone knew.

"Or i'm not Ser Jaime Lannister," Jaime allowed, dry but grinning. "Second best swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms."

He smiled, and then frowned, eyes cast down.

What if I say and they laugh, he thought. He didn't much like it when people laughed at him, and his Father didn't either. He usually kept them from doing it too much, but even he couldn't tell the Dragon what to do.

The child threw a quick glance at his sister, a question in his greens.

Cersei let out a small breath and brought him a bit deeper in her embrace. "Asking is not bad, Kiki. If you promise to not tell anyone, as we asked, we'll see."

Cieran nodded quickly. He still didn't understand, but they'd asked and now he felt bad so he wouldn't tell anyone, anyway.

Still.

"Iwanabeceakiht" He mumbled, digging deeper into his sister's shoulder.

He felt his brother's hand on his back. "Can you repeat that again, Cieran, maybe a bit slower?"

Cieran bit the inside of his cheek and then forced himself to look at his brother in the eyes. He hoped he wasn't ruining his sister's dress with the grip he had on it.

"I wanna be a Knight."

The Lion Knight

289 AC, Pyke.

He felt a weight on his shoulder.

"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave."

"Lions show no fear, boy." Spoke his Father, strong and firm. "Stay close."

"In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just."

"They say he smiled when he saw them," said another, slurred and bitter. "Our fair King."

"In the name of the Mother, i charge you to defend the young and innocent."

"My cousins were babes," one more shouted, high and shrill. "My aunt was innocent, and you killed them!"

"In the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women."

"You love your sister, little lion." Spoke his Mentor, kind and sorrowful. "I loved mine, too. Look after her, or it'll be your regret to carry."

"Rise, Ser Cieran Hill, a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms."

281 AC, Harrenhal.

The solemn silence, and the solemnity that had filled him, lasted little after he rose, for as soon as he'd turned, he went jumping into his sister's waiting arms, a mirthful laugh on his lips.

"I'm a Knight, sister, i'm a Knight!" He babbled happily.

"And such a knight you make, my proud little lion!" She giggled, hugging him back. She looked looked like the sun, his sister, when she was happy. Cieran knew his mother must have looked like that, too. "I'll have to quickly become Queen or be left behind!"

The child deflated a bit. "I don't know if i'd like that very much."

His sister raised a brow. "Why is that?"

"I don't know." He frowned. "The King isn't really very nice."

His older brother raised a brow, too. They really looked alike, right then, his siblings. Father looked different, but still similar. He and Tyrion didn't much look like any of them.

"I wouldn't be marrying King Aerys, Kiki." Cersei explained softly. "Remember your lessons? I'll marry the Crown Prince, Rhaegar. He's much nicer."

Jaime scoffed, and his twin threw him a scorching look.

"But how do you know that?" Cieran asked. "You don't know him."

"I just do, Kiki," snapped his sister, glaring still, not at him. "Don't make me angry."

The child looked down, subdued. "I just wish there was a Lady more nice and more beautiful than you, then she could be Queen and you could stay with me, and Tyrion, and Jaime, and Father. Forever."

Lyanna Stark flashed in his mind, then, but the thought went as it came. He didn't much want that for her, either, and he didn't much enjoy the thought of anyone marrying her, anyhow.

His sister softened, her lips brushing his cheek. "That's a bit selfish, isn't it?"

"I guess." He hugged her tighter, when a plan suddenly started forming in his young mind. "Then i'll be a Kingsguard, sister, I swear it! And when you'll be Queen, i'll protect you forever!"

"A Kingsguard protecting the Queen from the King, sweetling?" Cersei laughed.

The lion cub nodded vigorously, or as much as he could with his head in the the crook of her shoulder. "Of course, sister! I'll always protect you! From anyone!"

His sister beamed, and kissed his cheek once more.

"Well, you'll have to beat me to the spot, little one." Jaime poked his ribs.

Cieran harshly pushed away the offending finger, with all the indignation he could muster. "I'm not little! You'll see! I'll become a Kingsguard before you!" Just, after saying that, he felt bad. "But if you become one too, I won't be mad, I suppose."

Jaime roared with laughter, and ruffled his hair. If he wasn't still feeling bad, he'd have slapped that away too.

"Such a generous brother we have, don't we, sister?"

Cersei did it for him, with a huff, slap their brother's hand away. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to do his hair, you brute?!"

Cieran knew. He frowned harder.

Jaime laughed again. "From the little one's expression, i'd say he does."

They laughed, then, and joked, but mostly his sister fixed his hair, until he left and joined his friends, to the quest for the Laughing Tree.

Yet, Cieran Hill, now a Knight, then the Black Lion, would never quite forget that day, just like many of those days, and the promise he'd made, what he'd had to forget.

It would haunt him, and shape him, and then destroy him. Just like those wild grey eyes, that savage grin, singing him tales of Goodness and Knighthood.

But we're not quite there, yet. The Ballad has just began.

Took me a long-ass while to decide how I was gonna do this, and i'm still not completely satisfied.

But anyway, next chapter or next couple chapters, unless I get a lot of comments asking for events in chronological order, will be from the POVs of Lyarra (290 AC) and Dany (297/8 AC).

Then, Black Lion proper and the start of GOT.