Garbed in an elegant gown of crimson embroidered with golden lions, Cersei Lannister swirled this way and that in front of the mirror. She scowled. It should be me at the king's side, not that…that trout from Riverrun.

Cersei never enjoyed devouring fish at suppers and feasts; too many bones and there was no joy nibbling it unlike the juiciness and tenderness of roasted beef and other meat. More to the point, she loathed all the Tullys – even before Robert's war. One of her brilliant green eyes twitched. At one stage, her father, the powerful Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Warden of the West, had considered wedding her off to that floppy fish Ser Edmure Tully. I will eat him alive if I am ever forced to marry him. Thankfully that silly notion left her father's head as speedily as he thought of it.

What she found even more alarming was when she heard her father's plans to wed her beloved Jaime to Lysa Tully. Jaime was hers – only hers. Cersei felt anger surge through her. Why doesn't anyone understand? Jaime and I were brought to the world together; we are meant to be together…forever. The thought of having stupid Lysa as a good-sister horrified her as much as the idea of Tyrion gaining favour from their father (though highly unlikely – who would love a dwarf?). No, she corrected herself. Her father. Even though that imp of a Lannister bore the Lannister name, she liked to pretend he was not her brother. After her mother died giving birth to that monster, Cersei used to dream she would drop him into the sea from the cliffs of Casterly Rock and her mother would be alive again.

Alas, they were nothing but dreams.

I am getting old, thought Cersei, frowning as her handmaid braided her tresses of long, blonde hair. Nineteen years; still unmarried and no future. If I was born with a cock, I would've fought in tourneys and wars – for the glory and honour of House Lannister. My father would be proud of me.

Her foul mood worsened as she headed from her chambers to the Great Hall to hear the king's announcement. No doubt it regarded his precious child. Father wanted me to be the queen. I was to be Rhaegar's queen. I was to be the mother of dragons. I could've been Robert Baratheon's queen…but Catelyn Tully beat me and stole my crown. Cersei could not resist another scowl as she remembered her father's reaction to the news of a Tully as queen consort. "That Hoster Tully is a clever trout!" Lord Tywin Lannister had raged. "It's you who's supposed to be the queen! Oh, Tully had won this round; the next he will lose!"

Cersei craned her head and saw her twin standing with his sworn brothers in front of the Iron Throne. Jaime must've seen her glimpse as he winked at her. She blushed before a thought occurred to her. What if he was winking roguishly at another woman? She dismissed it at once. Jaime would never look at other ladies – he has me, and that is enough for us both.

"Do you see that man over there?" her father appeared at her side. Tall with bushy golden side-whiskers and the most intimidating gaze, he frightened her at times. "Do you see him?" he repeated, his green eyes flecked with gold swivelling to a handsome man in grey and silver. "He is Ser Garth Hightower. He is Leyton's second son. Lord Leyton approached me yesterday and requested your hand for him. He wants us to unite houses." His lips curved into a twisted sneer. "Leyton Hightower is a fool. I offered him Tyrion for one of his daughters and he declined. Now he asks for you, and I had the pleasure of declining. You were meant to be queen, Cersei. There is still a chance."

"What?" Cersei could not believe her ears. "How, Father? Catelyn Tully is the queen. There is nothing we can do about it."

"How pessimistic you have become, Daughter." Lord Tywin lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. "Catelyn Tully birthed a princess."

Cersei covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. She would have given the king a good many sons…if he'd married her as he should've. "What did they name their little princess?" she said softly.

Lord Tywin's smirk broadened. "Lyanna."

Cersei choked on her laughter. "I doubt Catelyn Tully will be pleased!" She managed to contain her giggles as the king began to speak.

"My lords and ladies!" King Robert Baratheon announced, his booming voice echoing in the Great Hall. "We are gathered here today to celebrate! My queen had given birth to a daughter, the Princess Lyanna Baratheon!" He paused and the courtiers clapped and murmured words of congratulations. Cersei politely clapped twice. "It had also been decided Princess Lyanna will wed Lord Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell," continued the king. To Cersei's delight, a whisper of disgruntlement buzzed through court. At the corner of her eye, Cersei saw her father stare straight ahead, his lips tightening. He would have loved to have the princess a part of the family. Glancing around, Cersei spotted the Fat Flower of Highgarden pouting and even Stannis Baratheon grinding his teeth. Then again, Stannis Baratheon did nothing but grind his teeth.

"There will be a tourney in honour of my daughter's birth!" the king went on, unaware of the quiet discontentment. "It will begin this afternoon! Additionally, there is more to celebrate. It has come to my attention that in the future, the Iron Throne may need more gold, and where better to find it than in Casterly Rock?" He nodded at Cersei and Tywin. "Moreover, as a gesture of friendship between the Houses of Baratheon and Lannister, we will unite our houses." How? Cersei wondered. You have already betrothed your dear, little princess – and only child – to the pup of Winterfell.

"…and with the full consent and blessing from Lord Tywin Lannister, I am pleased and honoured to announce the betrothal between my beloved brother Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and Lord Protector of Dragonstone, and Lady Cersei of House Lannister!"


"I could not help but wonder why Stannis Baratheon was grinding his teeth this morning." Jaime shook his mane of golden hair as he removed his silver helmet. Cersei wanted nothing more than to kiss him right there. He wiped away the beads of sweat from his forehead. "I guess we both know why now," he said, giving her a meaningful look.

"I assure you I did not want it!" snapped Cersei, crossing her arms. "Why in the Seven would I want to marry a statue like Stannis Baratheon?"

Jaime shrugged carelessly. "To be queen? Like it or not, Stannis Baratheon is still King Robert's heir. As long as our beloved Queen Catelyn cannot bear Robert a son, Stannis is his heir."

In her rage, Cersei had not considered that. "Robert has a daughter," Cersei pointed out helplessly.

Jaime shrugged again, wiping his hands. "Complain about it to Father. I have no head nor care for politics. Did you see that knight fall? Utterly hopeless. I do wonder if there will be any competition for me these days. I must say, I found the tourney of the king and queen's wedding much more challenging than this one so far. I hope I will compete against Barristan the Bold or the Blackfish in the last tilt. That will be memorable, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose," Cersei said, busy in her own thoughts.

Her twin frowned. "Are you still dwelling in a pit of misery, dear sister? Enjoy the tourney! It will be your last bit of fun before you are sent packing and then shipped off to Storm's End where you will wed Stannis Baratheon."

Cersei sighed. "I'll kill him if he forces his way with me on our wedding night." She wondered if Stannis had ever fucked a woman before.

"At least you will return to court. I will see you again."

"It wouldn't be the same, would it?" She leant forward and kissed Jaime on the lips. "Remember all those times when you stole a kiss from me at Casterly Rock?" she cooed as they broke apart. "Do you remember the night when you agreed to be a knight of the Kingsguard?" She smiled coyly. She did not need to touch him to know he was already deeply aroused. Her long, slim fingers caressed his fair cheeks, and when she wiped away a droplet or two of sweat, she licked it clean from her finger, gazing intently in Jaime's eyes. "What about the time when we fucked near the lion's pit?"Cersei whispered in his ear. "You said…what did you say? It was the best fuck ever…"

"Not…not now," said Jaime, his voice husky. "L-l-later. I…I have to ready m-m-myself for the next round…"

Cersei laughed softly. "The next round wouldn't start for ages. Don't you want to carry my favour, sweet Jaime?" She blew into his ear.

Nothing more had to be said.


Lord Tywin gave Cersei one look as she hurriedly joined him in the stands to watch the jousting. Thankfully Jaime did not make it messy or rip her gown this time. She fixed her hair and smiled dazzlingly at her father. "I was only wishing my brother luck," she said sweetly.

Her father nodded. "You will sit with the royal family – more precisely, beside Lord Stannis – during tonight's feast," he informed her. "It was an order directly from the king himself. Lord Stannis may not care much for you, but the king said he will not stand for a woman like Stannis in his family. You are to converse with Lord Stannis, entice him and try and make him smile. I suspect King Robert will declare a wager: the first to make Stannis Baratheon laugh will find himself – or herself – in possession of a lordship of some kind. I do not know if our good king is serious, but for House Lannister's interests, make him laugh. Amuse him. You have been at court for quite some time. I hope you spent your time here wisely with knowledge how to interest a man like Stannis Baratheon."

There should be a wager to make you laugh. "What are the chances Jaime will win the joust this time?"

Lord Tywin shrugged. "I do not care. Of course I hope Jaime wins. However, if Ser Barristan or the Blackfish happen to maim him, it will give him good reason to leave the Kingsguard and be my heir again."

Cersei wanted nothing more than to glare at him. You will not take Jaime away from me, she wanted to shout. Jaime belongs to me! You already took him away from me once – was that not enough?

"Once Jaime is released from his Kingsguard vows, he will be wedded to a lady from a highborn and influential family and finally have heirs. I will die a content man when I see my Lannister descendants married off to suitable spouses and House Lannister's legacy secure. A pity Hoster Tully married Lysa off to old Jon Arryn. Jaime's marriage to Lysa would be quite beneficial."

Cersei refrained herself from rolling her eyes. Instead, she turned to look at the jousting field. Barristan the Bold had effortlessly knocked another weasel-faced Frey from his equally weaselly horse. How many Freys had Ser Barristan defeated? Cersei wondered. Three? Four? The Freys breed like rabbits.

"I have not seen a single Frey progress far," remarked her father. "Not even your aunt Genna's son, Cleos. Jaime knocked him from his horse after he had defeated Tyrell's good-brother, one of those green apple Fossoways. Have you heard? Our queen gave the Blackfish her favour."

Cersei shrugged. "She is his niece."

"Indeed. I see you had given Jaime your favour too."

She smiled. Fluttering from Jaime's tourney lance was her red ribbon; a little frayed at the edges, it was the same ribbon that had weaved through her locks of golden hair the first time she consummated her love with Jaime. It took Jaime a mere second to recognise it. "I will crown you my Queen of Love and Beauty," he had promised, kissing her hand like a valiant knight. "As I have no betrothed nor a wife, crowning you will not be scandalous. There is nothing wrong in a brother crowning his own sister his Queen of Love and Beauty."

"I cannot wait," she had answered, smiling back at him. Wearing a crown of white roses on her brow was not what she had hoped at the prospect of being queen, but it was safer than committing treason to steal a crown.

"He is facing a Tyrell this time," Cersei commented.

"Most likely one of Mace Tyrell's cousins," agreed Lord Tywin. His green eyes gleamed like specks of gold. "Lord Stannis is coming our way," he said quietly. "I expect you to be charming."

Gloomily, Cersei waited as the grim-faced Stannis Baratheon made his way to her side. "Lord Lannister," he greeted, nodding at her father. "My lady." He gave her a polite nod. They watched Jaime unhorse the Tyrell knight with ease. "His Grace instructed me to ask you to sit with me, him, Her Grace and Lord Tully for the duration of the tourney," Stannis said solemnly. "I must also request you to sit by my side at tonight's feast as my betrothed."

"As you wish, my lord." Cersei smiled alluringly at him. "It will be an honour to sit with you and your family."

"It will be our family soon," said Stannis automatically. "Once all the details of the union of Houses Baratheon and Lannister are formalised, we will leave King's Landing for Storm's End and wed."

"We cannot wed here, my lord?" Hopefully negotiations would last more than a year. "You are His Grace's brother!"

Stannis frowned at her. "All Lords of Storm's End wed in Storm's End," he said bluntly, "as my father married my mother before me, and his father and mother before him…since Orys Baratheon took Argella Durrandon as wife. Before the end of the year, we will wed in my ancestral home and you will be the Lady of Storm's End. The king is more than pleased about it. He too desires to visit his childhood home. Or so he claims."

"Very well, my lord." Cersei could not suppress her utter disappointment. Why could she not be wedded off to a more handsome man who is not blind to a lady's charms? How in the Seven would she twist him around her little finger as she did to Jaime? Stannis Baratheon was a man of iron; Cersei suspected he would break before bending to her – or anyone's – will.

Her future husband nodded. "Very good, my lady." He offered her his arm almost mechanically. "I am to escort you to the royal stands." Helplessly, Cersei took his arm and he all but dragged her to the more comfortable gallery housing the king and his family. She repressed an upcoming scowl as she caught sight of the smug trout sitting at the king's side. She does not look the part of queen, thought Cersei, as she murmured, "Your Grace," before seating herself down on a velvet-cushioned chair beside the trout herself. She does look appealing enough, Cersei grudgingly acknowledged, but a queen must appear beautiful. She would be better off Stannis's wife and I King Robert's. The thought of a stag wedded to a trout irked her; would not a stag and lion be a better match?

"Lady Cersei," said the trout of Riverrun warmly. "How good of Stannis to ask you to sit with us. It will be thrilling when you wed him, will it not? I will finally have the pleasure of calling you my sister."

The last thing Cersei wanted was a sister – through marriage or otherwise. "It will be exciting," she lied, forcing herself to smile. "I thank the king and my lord father for brokering me such a grand match." It was an impressive match. Next to the king, Stannis Baratheon was the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms. Furthermore, without a royal prince in the nursery, Stannis was the heir to the Iron Throne. If Catelyn Tully happened to die giving birth to a weakling prince or another daughter, with the king following her to the grave, Stannis would ascend as king…with her as queen.

"You look lovely, Lady Cersei," Catelyn Tully complimented, her bright blue eyes scrutinising Cersei's elaborate braids down to her red gown. "I'm certain you will look equally splendid in gold and black."

"You look utterly magnificent, Your Grace." Magnificent for a knight's wife. Where does she think she is? Riverrun? Her hairstyle did not suit a queen. Cersei had seen many ladies who looked finer than Queen Catelyn. She smiled as the queen blushed a little. For the remainder of afternoon, Cersei and Catelyn spoke a few words and watched the rounds of jousting.

"Ser Jaime is one of the finest swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms," Catelyn observed, as Jaime broke his third lance against Garth Hightower. "I'm honoured to have him guard my lord husband. Today Ser Jaime had defeated two Swanns; father and son I believe, both of whom were excellent jousters. It is a pity Lord Hightower is keen for Ser Garth to wed. They call him Garth Greysteel. He would make an excellent addition to the Kingsguard. The king need young, strong men around him – with the exception of Ser Barristan Selmy of course. Ser Barristan can still kill a dozen men half his age."

Cersei nodded. "No one can win against my brother."

Catelyn laughed. "What of Ser Barristan and my uncle, the Blackfish? They are both very skilled in the jousting field."

Jaime will cut those old men down as if he was cutting butter. Cersei beamed as Garth Greysteel fell. In the next round, her smile disappeared as after five broken lances, Ser Balon Swann knocked Jaime from his steed.

"I suppose it is fitting," said Catelyn, watching Jaime stagger up, his armour and cloak coated with dirt and dust. "Ser Jaime defeated Lord Gulian Swann of Stonehelm and his heir, Ser Donnel Swann. For the honour of his father and elder brother, Ser Balon won against Ser Jaime. Oh dear me, half the spectators are quite unhappy. They must have wagered against Ser Balon."


The feast was splendid; the dishes were delicious, the music beautiful…Cersei would've thought it perfect if she was not seated beside her sullen betrothed. She tried to talk to Stannis, but his replies were short and cold. By the Seven, Stannis Baratheon was an icier man than Eddard Stark!

Father held a tourney in Lannisport once, Cersei remembered. I was a girl of ten and Aunt Genna told me I was to be betrothed to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. The champion of the tourney was Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, yet Rhaegar defeated two of her uncles, twelve of her father's best knights and Ser Barristan Selmy, before falling to the Sword of the Morning. That night, the prince played the harp; it was one of the few occasions Cersei cried. The next was when the Mad King rejected the suggestion of betrothing Rhaegar to Cersei. After that, there was no celebratory feast.

"You are my most able servant, Tywin, but a man does not marry his heir to his servant's daughter," the Mad King had said to her father. Tywin had repeated it to Cersei, and she had never forgotten it. She was glad Jaime slew the Mad King and when Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar Targaryen at the Trident, she wept, not certain if with joy or grief.

Cersei reached for another cup of wine. Was it her third…? Fourth…? As she sipped, she noticed Stannis's disapproving stare. "It is not proper for a highborn lady to drink so much wine," he said stiffly. Not proper? Cersei forced herself to remain calm. There's no point angering her betrothed. "I apologise if I offend you in any way my lord," she said civilly. "I am only…nervous."

"Nervous, my lady?" She looked up and saw a grinning Jaime stand in front of her, holding out his hand. "I will be honoured if you will dance with me." He gave her a charismatic smile before turning to Stannis. "My lord Stannis." He dipped his head. "You do not mind if I steal your betrothed for a dance?" Stannis waved his hand dismissively. Beaming, Cersei took Jaime's hand and they walked to the dance floor. "I thought you needed a rescue," whispered Jaime.

"There goes the Lannister twins," a lady in blue said to her friend. "The Lion of Lannister's golden legacies: the Kingslayer and the future Lady of Storm's End." Cersei lifted her head with pride. Even after Stannis places his Baratheon cloak over my shoulders, I will always be a Lannister, she vowed as Jaime's long fingers brushed against her waist. My future husband is a Baratheon, my future sons and daughters will be Baratheons, but I will forever be a Lannister.


I planned to update yesterday, but I got distracted writing the next chapter and forgot. Sorry! On the bright side, I'll update the next chapter this evening :) Merry Christmas readers! I appreciate every review, favourite and follow and this is my Christmas gift to you all! :D