When the rain came, Cersei Lannister laughed. The precious wedding ruined – not by another foolish boy or stupid girl, but by the weather. When two servants came with the midday meal of crusty bread, a small cup of mead and thinly sliced cold meat, Cersei ate well. Her good mood ended when her assigned maidservant informed her that Prince Orys and Lady Lyarra Stark's wedding went ahead. The grand breakfast had occurred, as had the gift giving ceremony and even a feast. It was only the outdoor festivities that had been postponed.

Ignoring her dinner that had long gone cold, Cersei prowled around her small prison like a caged lion. Her emerald green eyes flashed with fury as she recalled once again that it was her cold, stony-faced husband who ordered her arrest – on the grounds of adultery and incest! Stannis Baratheon was never much of a good husband or an exciting lover anyway. And for him to arrest her! The mere cheek! Just because Stannis found more delight in abstinence didn't mean she, a woman with physical needs, should suffer too. By the gods Cersei hated Stannis.

I want him dead, Cersei thought savagely, her slim fingers curling into fists. Oh, one day Stannis will pay for this. There was so much about Stannis she loathed. So much more than just that arrest. For one, he chose to shower his miniscule vial of affection on the hideous and disfigured Shireen rather than any of the other sons and daughters Cersei gave birth to. If Cersei had had her way, she would've sent that blasted girl far, far away or even had her killed. Lord Tywin had always said that the weak, the crippled, the disfigured and the simple-minded lackwits were better off dead than alive.

If that wasn't insulting enough, Stannis refused to have Robert or Tommen (or both of them) fostered at Casterly Rock. Fool! The great Lord Tywin even offered to foster them and to teach them about the ways of ruling the Westerlands. Oh, if Stannis was not such a stubborn mule…! Instead of being a landless younger son, Tommen could've been the next Lord of Casterly Rock! Any clever man with a lot of brains would kill to have their son named Lord Tywin's heir. What did Stannis do? He told Lord Tywin, "You have a son." By that he meant the Imp.

More furious than ever, Cersei pounded on the solid iron door. She waited for the chief gaoler – a former cloth merchant! – to peer through the small slit carved near the middle of the door. "I desire to see my brother Ser Jaime Lannister," she said imperiously. "I am allowed visitors." The chief gaoler scratched his chin. "I'm the daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister," Cersei growled menacingly, "the Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Warden of the West! He will have you out of a job if you treat me like you treat any criminal!"

The chief gaoler grunted. "Forgive me milady, but I must first check with Lord Baratheon. I've been instructed to obey the Hand of the King's orders concerning you milady. Milord Hand specified that all prison privileges given to the highborn prisoners like yourself are to be revoked."

"Revoked?" Cersei repeated. "I am a Lannister!"

The chief gaoler eyed her. "Milord Hand's orders milady."

"I demand to see my brother at once or Lord Tywin will have your head!"

"I will speak to milord Hand milady. If he approves, I'll have Ser Jaime brought here tomorrow morning."

Cersei almost scoffed. Earning Stannis's approval was like spotting snarks and grumkins strolling around King's Landing. No, it was time to change tactic. "Come now my good man," Cersei said as sweetly as she could manage. "If you help me, I can help you. What do you say?"

"Unless you can make me a lord milady, I'm afraid not."

The sheer insolence of that lowborn fool! "My father Lord Tywin is always in a lookout for new gaolers," Cersei said, gritting her teeth. "He pays them well. More well than you are paid." She was not actually sure, but better to lie. To her delight, the chief gaoler looked uncertain. "Come now," she wheedled. "I know about you. A cloth merchant who purchased the position of Chief Gaoler? Lord Stannis often spoke about you."

"Milord Hand did, milady?"

Cersei had no idea if Stannis did or did not. "Oh yes," she said, her eyes shining with glee. "He always said that one day he would have you arrested for buying an office rather than being appointed." It was something Stannis would say if he had not already. All that man did was complain and grumble. "Ask yourself whether it is worth serving a man like Stannis Baratheon," Cersei continued. "All hard work, no reward…is it truly worth it?"

The chief gaoler continued staring at her, this time in silence. "I'll go and speak to milord Hand," he said finally. Cersei's hopes crashed down in an instant. "If he approves, I'll have Ser Jaime Lannister brought here tomorrow morning. I'll come back soon milady."

Cersei snarled angrily as the chief gaoler closed the small slit and left. She then resumed her earlier prowl, vowing revenge on both Stannis and the gaoler. If she was fortunate, she would glimpse her sweet Jaime…on his way to execution.

It didn't take long before the cell door opened and the chief gaoler walked in, a grim-faced guard on either side of him. Cersei crossed her arms. "Well?" It was a small surprise to see the chief gaoler enter her cell. She expected he'd inform her of Stannis's refusal through the little slit on the door.

The chief gaoler handed her a folded piece of parchment. "Milord Hand said to me that if you willingly sign and confess, you will be allowed visitors."

Cersei made a noise of disgust. "What is there to confess? My lord husband will have me condemned and killed anyway!"

"Milord Hand is merciful milady. Besides, he is not judging you in your trial as in the eyes of the Seven, he is still your husband."

"Who will judge me then, Gaoler? The honourable Eddard Stark?" Her last few words dripped like poison. Eddard Stark was almost as bad as Stannis. Two men who shared a mistress in justice and precious honour. The chief gaoler nodded. "I believe there will be three judges milady," he informed her. "Lord Stark of course, as he is the Master of Laws. The other two judges of your trial will most likely be Prince Oberyn Martell and the king."

Cersei groaned silently. The Red Viper of Dorne would have her condemned to death before the trial even started. Lord Stark would listen fairly (hopefully), but would he in Jaime's trial? What of the king? He was said to be a forgiving man to maidens and people who don't bear the name Targaryen.

What of the Lannisters though?


When the sun rose – a tiny glimmer of gold behind a cluster of clouds – in the morning, Cersei found herself pacing in her small prison. She stopped and stared at her bowl of porridge with distaste. Porridge was her least favourite dish, even when she was a child. No matter if it was served with strawberries, cream, syrup or sugar, she hated it. It shouldn't be a surprise that Stannis ordered porridge for her breakfast out of spite. Not only was porridge plain and unappetising, but also food of more common nobles than to those of House Lannister. A Lannister meal would always include a rasher of bacon and butter – food of the rich.

The door opened and the scowling Lord Stannis Baratheon himself walked in. As Cersei reached for the goblet she intended to throw at him in rage, she caught sight of the two men with him: the Onion Knight and for some odd reason, Grand Maester Pycelle. Cersei looked suspiciously at the Grand Maester. Though he was old and frail, Lord Tywin had described him once as a Lannister man. What is the point? Cersei thought irritably. Pycelle is as much use as a rotting fish.

"My lady," Stannis acknowledged flatly.

"What is this?" snarled Cersei. "Do you plan to murder me? Is that it? You must think I am a fool. The three of you are here to kill me to spare a trial."

Stannis looked at her with disgust. "Murder? You think me a murderer? If I am a killer, I wouldn't even have you arrested. I would've killed you myself. I'm not a murderer my lady."

"Why are you here then? To gloat?"

"This is no gloating matter. Take a seat." He waited until Cersei sat down on an old chair – the only chair in the prison. "The Grand Maester suggested that a trial would be messy," Stannis said stiffly. "Incest and adultery are worthy of deaths – painful deaths too. Grand Maester Pycelle suggests that if you cooperate and sign your confession, there'll be no trial and you'll live the rest of your life confined in a few rooms in Dragonstone in my brother Lord Renly's custody."

"House arrest!"

"It is better than death my lady."

Cersei glowered at Stannis. "What of my children?"

"Under strictest guard, you will be able to see them once a year at an arranged appointed time. Whatever the case, the High Septon has agreed that when it is all over, we will no longer be husband and wife. I will retain custody of the children." He paused. "Of my children," he corrected himself. "Tommen and Myrcella will be wards of the crown."

"No," said Cersei defiantly. "I will have my trial. At least then I'll have a chance to defend myself and my children from the disgusting lies you said. You are just a coward trying to wiggle out of a trial. You don't wish to show your evidence – is it that weak, my lord? Do you have any evidence at all or are you doing this to earn the enmity of House Lannister of Casterly Rock? If it's the latter, you will regret it. Only a fool will earn House Lannister's wrath. Charging me on incest! Why would you even choose that? Do you even have proof my lord Stannis? Any evidence? It will be a shame if we discover you have no evidence in truth."

Stannis narrowed his eyes. "You are too proud, my lady. Do you think I would arrest you without proof?"

"If you want me to confess, show me evidence."

"We are not on trial."

Cersei shot Stannis a triumphant smirk. "Coward." She crossed her arms. "You have no evidence against me, do you?"

"Lady Cersei," spoke the Grand Maester, shuffling closer towards her. "It's best to confess now. Your House's dignity will still be intact-"

"No." Cersei glowered at him with distaste. He was of no help whatsoever. "I'll take my chances at the trial then. I refuse to confess and there is nothing that you can do about it. Nothing at all!"

"You and Ser Jaime committed incest," said Stannis stiffly, "a great sin. If that's not enough, you're an adulteress. If you do not wish to confess, so be it. You must know that Ser Jaime already confessed. With his testimony revealed in the trial, I can assure you that there will be no mercy. Ser Jaime will no doubt endure a very painful death: disembowelment, hanging and beheading possibly."

"My brother didn't commit a crime worthy of that punishment!" said Cersei in indignation. "He doesn't deserve to suffer a traitor's death!" She cursed inwardly. She knew at once that she fell in a trap.

"The Faith is willing to allow Ser Jaime atone for his sins," droned Pycelle. "To do that, he will be sent to the Wall for the rest of his days."

"How is that mercy?" spat Cersei. "He'll die in the freezing, cold wasteland!"

"It is an honour to serve-"

"An honour for those Northern savages, not my brother!"

"Very well," said Stannis curtly, turning to leave. "Our time has been wasted. It is a shame you are so obstinate my lady."

"It is you who is obstinate as a mule!" Cersei threw back recklessly. "You're by far more loyal to your mistress Lady Justice than to family! I heard my father was not paid the coin owed to him and he offered you a compensation for all this! But oh no, it isn't good enough for Lord Stannis Baratheon! You had to reject all of his offers and continue with this farce of a trial! We both know you will not rest until I'm dead! What then, my lord? Murder?"

Stannis stared at her. "You're mad," he said finally. "Mad, my lady. I hope you'll gain your senses for your trial in two days' time."

Before Grand Maester Pycelle shuffled out, he hurriedly handed Cersei a scrap of paper. "From Lord Tywin," he mumbled almost inaudibly before hobbling out, the sound of his clinking chains augmenting as he left quickly. Cersei waited until the cell door was slammed shut behind the old Grand Maester. Hmm…maybe the ancient Grand Maester Pycelle was useful after all.

More excited than she'd been in days, Cersei read eagerly.

Her heart sank.

The trial is in two days, Lord Tywin had written. You will say and do nothing at all. I will attempt to speak to the king – he is the only one of your judges who may be lenient and open for compromises and negotiating. I am not doing this for you or Jaime; it's to salvage what remains of House Lannister's dignity. The best Jaime will receive is the choice to take the black. If he does, he'll be able to help regain respect and prestige for House Lannister though from the Wall. Tommen might still be able to be named Lannister and succeed me as Lord of Casterly Rock. As for you, if all of Westeros can forget about you, that is a blessing enough for House Lannister.


Six Baratheon guards appeared early in the morning, ready to escort Cersei to the throne room for the trial. Cersei was finishing her breakfast of bread lathered generously with butter, a slice of bacon and a boiled egg when Ser Kevan came in, a pained expression in his eyes.

"What is it Uncle?" said Cersei impatiently.

"It was hard finding you witnesses," her uncle said shortly. "Ser Addam will be one of your witnesses. I believe he will be your strongest. Lord Tywin had also ah, managed to find your old septa. She will be another witness."

Cersei made a noise at the back of her throat. Septa Adalais? That prudish and pug-faced old bitch who never ate anything but bread and watered ale like one of the peasants? It wasn't even fine white bread mind you. Even now, it was difficult to think Septa Adalais was formerly from House Oakheart. She certainly looked a lot more like a Clegane than an Oakheart. Naturally, Cersei hadn't given a thought to her old septa since the day she no longer needed her. She'd always considered that once her education ended, Septa Adalais returned to whatever motherhouse she had come from.

"How did you find her?" Cersei said curiously.

Ser Kevan frowned. "Find her? We didn't need to find her, Cersei. She has been at Casterly Rock since Genna's girlhood. Once you no longer required a septa, she – Septa Adalais – was sent to look after our cousins Ladies Cerenna and Myrielle. Now she is taking care of my daughter Janei. Well, she's now here and she will be telling the judges that when you were a girl, you never harboured any…wrong ah, feelings towards Jaime."

Cersei was sceptical. "My best defenders are Ser Addam Marbrand and a bitch-faced septa?" Ser Kevan shot her a warning look. "Come," he said shortly. "I'm to escort you to the throne room with the guards."

"Shouldn't my father be doing that?"

"The king determined I am more harmless than Lord Tywin Lannister." Cersei snorted. Ser Kevan was clearly not so harmless if there were half a dozen guards bearing the Baratheon sigil waiting for her.

"The trial is against me already," said Cersei casually as she began her walk to the Great Hall beside her uncle and in front and behind the Baratheon guards. "It will be more in my favour when I demand a trial by combat."

Ser Kevan stopped so suddenly that one of the guards almost crashed into him. Cersei smirked. "You won't," Ser Kevan said warningly. "You will not do anything so foolish. Who do you think will champion you? Ser Gregor Clegane? I know he's under orders not to fight for you in any trial by combat. Your father will not send one of his best soldiers to fight for you."

Cersei frowned. "I'm his daughter."

This time Ser Kevan did not even stop striding when he said bluntly, "Since the moment your husband Lord Stannis Baratheon started gathering evidence for the trial, your lord father no longer considered you his daughter. The only reason the Lord of Casterly Rock even bothers is to save House Lannister from disgrace. You know the story of his father Lord Tytos, Cersei. You know what happened during his rule and you know what Lord Tywin did. What Lord Tywin is still doing is for the good of House Lannister. He rebuilt it from the ground."

"Why the witnesses then if he disowned me?" Cersei challenged.

"If somehow you win, he will demand custody of you. You'll return to Casterly Rock and confined in the chambers furthest away till the end of your days. If you even think of demanding a trial by combat, you will find no champion."

Cersei remained silent; her mind was raging. Whichever way she turned, she'd be facing imprisonment. Men are useless, she thought angrily. What's the point of relying on them to 'defend' you? What is the crime of loving one's sibling? No one battered an eye when the Targaryens wed brother and sister and sired their sons and daughters! Moreover, why are women blamed for fucking the men they love? Whores, sluts, harlots! What are the men that cheat on their wives called? Men. Not that Stannis would ever fuck other women, but it was still unfair. She did nothing wrong; fucking another was not a crime in the world of love.

Three of the Baratheon guards led Cersei and Ser Kevan through the towering bronze doors and down the long carpet towards the Iron Throne. The king was in the Great Hall already, but he wasn't sitting on his throne. Instead, he sat in front of a table on the dais between the solemn Lord Eddard Stark garbed in plain, dull grey and a smirking Prince Oberyn Martell in flowing robes of striped yellow, red and orange. On either side of the red carpet were hundreds of courtiers, all eying Cersei and whispering excitedly. What am I? Cersei thought crossly. A freak? You want a freak, gawp at Tyrion. Closest to the three judges were Stannis, gloomy as ever, his precious Onion Knight at his side. She was surprised – only a bit – when she caught sight of her children, all six including the horrible Shireen, standing in a line close to Stannis. What are they doing here? Surely Stannis would know that it was cruel to have the children watch the trial.

The High Septon started with a prayer, asking the Father Above to guide them to justice. When he was done, the king cleared his throat. "Lady Cersei!" His loud voice boomed through the throne room. "You have been arrested on the grounds of adultery and incest. For Mother's Mercy, do you confess?"

Before Cersei could reply, more guards entered. This time there were fourteen guards and in the middle of them stood Jaime. Cersei dug her nails into her palms as she watched him stare at the ground. Fool, she couldn't help think. You are the finest knight in the Seven Kingdoms! You could've fought your way out! Only a fool surrenders without a bloody fight. She glared at Jaime. What was he going to do to her? Openly confess to avoid a grisly death? No he wouldn't do that. He still loved her very much – as much as she still loved him.

"Lady Cersei?" said Prince Oberyn lazily. "Shall we be taking your silence as an extended sign of guilt?"

"I plead not guilty," said Cersei proudly, lifting her chin.

The king nodded at Stannis. "Lord Baratheon, the evidence?"

Slight alarm tingled in Cersei's mind as she noticed the Onion Knight cringe – why would he cringe? Stannis strode in front of the judges. "My first evidence can be seen by everyone," he announced. He pointed at the frightened Tommen and a terrified Myrcella. "Green eyes, blonde hair," Stannis declared. "Lannister traits." He gestured to the other children. "Black of hair, blue eyes." Is that not enough? If not, look at the royal princes and princesses and His Grace's illegitimate sons. All black of hair with blue eyes." He looked directly at Cersei who swallowed a lapse of fear as one would swallow wine. "For centuries, all Baratheon marriages have yielded black-haired and blue-eyed children. My question is this: how did I beget two blonde-haired, green-eyed children from a Lannister when all the Baratheon men of the past who married Lannisters produced children of black hair and blue eyes?" He took out a huge book. "Further evidence lies here."

Cersei bit her lip to maintain a proud composure, but deep inside, she tasted a drop of apprehension. The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. Her nails dug deeper into her palms. Maesters have no need to lie when writing that blasted book.


Not that many chapters left until Part 4! I'm still happy to hear which northern lord/lady POV you want to read in. Currently it's the Mormonts in the lead, though it's a hard decision to decide which Mormont POV to write in :D