For a long year, the Seven Kingdoms had known nothing of peace. Each day fathers and sons had been slain fighting for a king that had long ago lost himself to madness or a man fighting for the woman he loved. Driven by anger and passion the war had been won, but not without casualties. The great warrior Robert Baratheon had lost his betrothed, Lyanna Stark, and dark hair beauty that hailed from The North. She was to be the lady that served at his side in Storm's End, and as he took the Iron Throne in King's Landing, she was to be his Queen. He had been a shell of a man at his coronation and lost himself in every wine cask that had been offered to him. He had hidden it all between his laughter and triumphant raise of his battle-ax that was still caked by bloodshed by Rhaegar Targaryen. It was the confidence of the black-bearded King that left the maiden's swooning. High and lesser Lords both flocked with the offerings of their daughter, but only one of them would be fortunate enough to have their daughter be taken as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
Tywin Lannister had served as Hand of the King for twenty long years during the reign of Aerys Targaryen II. He had been a loyal man and friend, but as Aerys sanity declined and he had earned his title The Mad King, Tywin had found that he was loyal to one thing: his family. He had been humiliated by King Areys refusal to wed Raegar to his only daughter and he had lost his firstborn son to the oath of the King's Guard. These were only two of the many slights he had suffered at the Mad King's hands. Yet, it was Tywin who would prevail as Aerys was slain by Tywin's own blood; Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer.
Quickly the esteem for the noble House Lannister had been restored. He had received great interest in the hand of his daughter, but there was no greater honor to a house than to wed the King. It hadn't taken much convincing of the Baratheon King. It had been difficult for him to ignore the wealth of the Lannister family and the power of their armies for centuries before them. Ultimately, it had been the Lannister armies that had helped win them the capital and there was no denying that Cersei was undoubtedly beautiful with her long golden mane, her pale green eyes, and tall slender figure that would leave any woman envious. While he still mourned for his dear Lyanna, there was no refusing the Lady Lannister who gazed at him with nothing but fascination and adoration.
The capital had been thrown back into life with the chime of wedding bells. Lords and Ladies from each of the Noble Houses flocked in celebration. Small folk crowded the streets filling it with their song. If they had been lucky, they received a glimpse of Cersei's elegant gown with its intricate beading, long bell sleeves, and cloak that had once been draped over her mother's shoulders on her wedding day - it was a gown they would try to emulate for centuries.
Cersei had been captivated by the celebration of the day. The wedding breakfast had brought her gifts of adoration. The ceremony where they had spoken the words of their gods had joined her to her husband. The feast was a celebration filled with songs of triumph and left her belly full of the finest food to feast upon. Yet, none of this mattered to the young queen. Her eyes had been nothing but fixated on her husband. She studied the angles of his cheekbones as the rest of his face had been lost beneath a thick black beard and the way his eyes wrinkled when he laughed. When he stood and his finest clothes hung from his frame, she couldn't help but wonder what was beneath them. She dreamed of his strong arms enveloping her frame and taking her in his bed. Cersei would feel every angle of his body and she would do he duty as his wife, bear his children. Little did she know, she would be thoroughly disappointed.
When they had been carried to his chambers her body had come to life with exhilaration. Cersei was far from carrying as lords tugged at her gown, it couldn't come off fast enough. The privacy of his chambers had brought the vulnerability of her nakedness, Robert's hands rough from battle tore at the fabric and left it in sheds on the ground. His eyes were dark and distant and his breath wreaked of sweet wine. Cersei had found herself gritting her teeth as she was laid out on his bed, her skin raising in bumps as the cold night air blew into the room in gusts through the window. It had been almost been enough to extinguish the candles, and she had come to wish they had. His body was strong and lean, marked up by the scars of war. Some still fresh, and threatened to open from the maesters mending and bleed over the body of his bride. Cersei grimaced as he braced himself over her body. His beard scratched at the sensitive skin of her neck and his hands manhandled her curves. She would have cried out when he consummated their joining if her maidenhead hadn't been taken by another. The new queen squirmed beneath his weight, his manhood left near flaccid by his excessive drinking, but she let him do what little he could do. As he reached the peak of his ecstasy, his lips muttered out a name that was not her own; Lyanna.
When he was done with her, sleep had taken him quickly leaving Cersei with tears staining her cheeks. How could she have been so foolish? Cersei abandoned her place at his side, desperately pulling a hooded cloak over her naked body before slipping out into the dark corridors of the Red Keep. In the distance, you could still hear those in celebration. Their calls and songs beckoned to her, but there was only one individual she craved to see. The only one who could calm her body and mind. Her lover, and dear brother, Jaime Lannister.
The heavy hood of her cloak cast a shadow across the elegant features of her face as she walked past each torch that roared with the light of the fire. Their flickering flame ignited her way through the castle she had yet to discover every corner of. White Sword Tower had been the only place she knew how to get to from anywhere. Jaime had first show it to her when they were merely fifteen when he had first been raised to the Kingsguard. At first, she had detested the idea. His oath kept him from Casterly Rock, it kept him from her. When her father had promised her to Rhaegar it had felt to have been fate drawing them together once more. Instead, the Targaryen prince had wed another, keeping her from her brother. She had feared for Jaime's life for many moons and was only brought peace when the war had ended and he had been left unharmed. Now, he was pledged to a new king, - her husband.
Knuckles rapped against the heavy door she knew to be his own. When it had gone unanswered, her heart grew weak in her chest. She pulled the hood over her face, soaking up the tears as they spilled and muffled each sob that croaked up her throat. She could not dare go back to the bed chambers, not after what she had heard.
Would King Robert ever come to love her?
Was she foolish to wish that he would?
The rattle of armor had Cersei peering up through wet lashes. Her mind raced with quick excuses as to explain her presence in the tower but they would not meet the ears of the other as she was greeted with golden hair and a vacant expression that could have only belonged to her brother.
"Cersei?" his voice was weak, his heart dropping at the distress that took her features. It was her wedding day, she was the queen. It was meant to be the happiest day of her life and she was reduced to sorrow. A hand took each of her shoulders, feeling his mother's old wedding cloak beneath his touch. He guided her gently, through the door that granted a semblance of privacy from the rest of the guard who resided in the tall tower. It was only once the door was shut he found his voice again, "sister..." Jaime took a long pause and pushed the hood from her head. Her eyes were bloodshot from the exhaustion of the day - or maybe it was the tears - and her features were left defeated but unharmed. There was no redness to her cheeks and no bruising. "Did he hurt you?"
Cersei swallowed hard as she collapsed into his strong embrace that had brought her comfort since before they were born. "No," her answer was simple, her head hanging low on her shoulders, "not in the traditional sense of the word."
"Was he not gentle?" Jamie's brows furrowed. He had learned every inch of Cersei before any man should, and he knew well just how much she could handle. Had Robert become too much?
Cersei scoffed, her head tossing back as a laugh threatened to take her. "Our consummation," if you could even call it that, "was less than satisfactory. Such a burly, handsome man with a penchant for painted whores... I no longer have to wonder why he must pay a woman to take her into his bed." The thought of her husband laying with whores used to make her stomach sick, now, she pitied them. Such a miserable thing it was to lay with the King.
"And that's why you're here because Robert didn't please you?"
Cersei near lashed at him, her eyes that had grown wide with her tears fell narrow in disdain. What an ignorant thing for him to say! Her hand wavered at his side as she contemplated shoving him away, but the clamor of his armor would draw too much attention. Instead, hissed through grit teeth; "he said her name!"
Jaime drew back from his sister's form, his hands making quick work of his armor and standing before her in nothing but his pale white chemise and lose trousers. It was when the gold armor was in its place that he welcome back into his arms. Cersei had found herself sobbing once more, but the anger had not been lost. Her hands clutched at his chest like talons, her tears soaking through to his skin as she spat her words out in anger.
"The Stark girl," her words were venom, "a rotting corpse three months ride from here. He dare not even open his eyes to look at me! Living! Breathing! His queen-" Her voice broke, her face burring into the chest of her dear brother. For years she had been promised the affection of a prince, she lost his adoration to another. Now she wed the King, and his love was wasted on a dead girl. Her stomach twisted into knots, what did she do to deserve such discourtesy? Was she not worthy of love? Her eyes shut tight as she desperately tried to lose herself in the darkness. "How could I be such a fool to think I could be loved by any other but you?"
Jaime let his hand raise, but it did not come down in a strike. His hand met her cheek in a gentle caress. He was pained to see his sister in such turmoil. There was no one he loved more than Cersei, and he was left with a bad taste in his mouth with how she had been treated. I was said she was one of the most beautiful women in Westeros and let she was being treated as if she were nothing more than an object to be bartered with. He did his best to calm her with a gentle hum, his hand stroking down the length of her golden hair before lifting to repeat the motion again and again. "You are far from a fool," he promised her, "you are the queen. You do not need the love of a drunken man. He the fool for not seeing the beauty in front of him." Holding her close, Jamie guided her to the bed, though he did not lay with her. Instead, he seated himself on the edge and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him with ease, her fingers traveling up the nape of his neck to tangle in his soft strands.
"You will be loved Cersei, by me and so many more. It is you that is queen. Did you not see them all today? In awe of your beauty, wishing it was them in your place. The people of King's Landing - the people of Westeros - they will love you… I will love you." His face nuzzled into her hair, just below her ear. He breathed in her scent, earning a sigh from his lips. It reminded him of home.
"You're right," Cersei's voice had begun to find its strength again, confidence found in the kind words of her brother. He was right. With time everyone would come to see that Robert was nothing more than a drunken fool and it would be she that would be loved by their people. "You should have taken the throne," she muttered to him after a moment, her forehead coming to rest against his own. "You killed Aery's-"
Jaime frowned inwardly as if he needed to be reminded.
"-it was sitting there waiting for you. Why didn't you take it?" She didn't receive an answer, Jaime's gaze lost on the distant wall. Cersei's lips fell into a firm line, while she was unimpressed, she would press or answers. "You would be king, and I could have been your bride-"
"Father would have never allowed it," Jaime was quick to answer now, a frown taking his own lips. Could she not see how difficult things would have been if he had tried to claim the Iron Throne? Even now, he was lucky he was seen as a hero instead of a traitor.
"Brother wed sister for generations under the reign of the Targaryens," Cersei spoke out pointedly, "why should we have had to be any different?" It was a magical thought, serving as Queen with her brother at her side. Her chest ached as she yearned for it. For too long they have had to hide their love from the world and it would only have to continue now that she had married the Baratheon warrior. At least now as she was to reign as queen at Robert's side, Jaime would never be out of reach. She could have him as she please and she wouldn't let anyone come in the way of that, not Robert and most definitely not her father.
Cersei closed what little distance there was between their lips, pressing a chaste kiss to eager lips. Any other night she would have taken him into her bed and to be reminded what real love felt like, but tonight he marriage to Robert had been consummated, and as she could still feel the essence of Robert sticking between her thighs. They would have the rest of their lives for their secret tryst, but tonight she would retire alone. A bath would wash away any semblance of Robert and she would go to those whom she trusted most to obtain moon tea - the thought of carrying Robert's children had once left her in awe, now it left a foul taste in her mouth.
Peeling herself from Jaime's lap left her with an emptiness - they had fit together so perfectly - the same feeling she had once had when she was forced to leave him in King's Landing many years ago. She smiled to herself gently, her thoughts putting the anxious feeling at ease. You don't have to say goodbye this time. You never have to return to Casterly Rock. Jaime will forever be at your side. "I should return to my chambers before anyone notices I'm gone," Cersei half frowns and watched as Jaime stood from his seat. His lips parted as if to protest, but she silenced him with another kiss. "Not tonight," she muttered, "we have many more nights ahead of us to share." She watched as a smile grew to match her own, their gaze locked as she moved to depart through his chamber door.
Her cloak cast a shadow across elegant features, but this time it did not conceal her sorrows. There were no more tears lost over, Robert and his lost love, Lyanna. No, Cersei now found herself with a proud grin that split across her features. She did not need Robert's affections, not while she had Jaime. They had always been more than brother and sister. Birthed from the same womb, they were one person in two separate bodies. Their tryst had been a secret well kept, he brought her a bliss she had often chased to find with another. It had only taken the name of another woman to help her realize that no one could give her the same feeling of completeness her brother could offer her. Not even a king.