Author's Note: Here's another chapter. Some risqué banter between Amarah and our favorite Kingslayer in this one. I have a ton of fun writing dialogue between those two. Just FYI, the interaction between them will be pretty light in these first several chapters since the main focus in the beginning of the story is on her family relationships and how those shape her as a person. But the romance with Jaime will definitely come into play later on down the road. Both characters need to do some growing first before that happens. Enjoy and please review! (Warning for a small amount of pretty explicit language in this one)
"Are you coming to see the joust with us?"
Amarah was enjoying a leisurely stroll towards the tournament grounds when she heard the eager question over the faraway din of exited revelers. Looking down she saw the adorable, chubby face of little prince Tommen Baratheon.
"Of course" she answered in a serious voice scooping him up into her arms as he gave a delighted squeal. "How could I call myself a Baratheon and miss out on the most entertaining spectacle in the seven kingdoms?"
"The tournaments frighten me" young Myrcella confessed quietly as she walked along side both of them. She was a quiet thing, the very opposite of her two brothers.
"There is nothing wrong with being uncomfortable about the possibility of one man taking another's life" Amarah tried to reassure her. "It means you have a compassionate heart."
Myrcella turned to regard her with a woeful expression. "Mother says compassion is weakness in a queen."
"Well she would say that wouldn't she?" Amarah mused aloud thinking of the unforgiving woman who uttered the words. "But you're not a queen are you, little sister? So therefore it is not a weakness."
"I suppose not" the golden princess reasoned to herself in light of Amarah's sound logic.
Looking at Myrcella and Tommen's angelic faces, Amarah wondered at how they could be such good children considering their parents and older brother. What if they became like their mother and father or even worse, that little shit Joffrey? Shuddering at the thought she moved the conversation back to more pleasant topics.
"I hear you have a new pet?" she said brightly to the little lad in her arms.
"Oh yes!" He turned excitedly in her arms to tell her all about his new tabby one of the servants had given him. As Tommen began to tell her all manner of wonderful stories about the little animal they were suddenly interrupted by a harsh voice.
"Tommen" the queen reprimanded him sternly while striding towards them. "You are old enough to walk to the tournament yourself. You do not need to be carried about."
"We were only having a bit of fun" Amarah turned to the displeased queen to defend the prince. "Surely you remember how to do that."
"Put him down" was all the reply she received. Giving a sigh of resignation she decided to release the boy in favor of avoiding another confrontation with the queen. Unfortunately after her previous remark that was most likely unavoidable now.
"Go on" she told both children as they looked at her with trepidation. Most people who crossed Cersei were not the better for it afterward. Their concern touched her but was unnecessary. She was more than capable of defending herself. After a small hesitation they continued toward the part of the field set up for the joust. Turning back to the queen Amarah braced herself for yet another unpleasant clash of wills.
"How dare you speak to me like that in front of my children?" the queen hissed.
"It was not my intention to be disrespectful I assure you" Amarah returned with chilling politeness.
Cersei regarded her with a mixture of disbelief and contempt. "Oh, I am very certain of that. Remember my dear, do not cross me or you will regret it."
"I would venture not" Amarah returned with a pleasant smile failing to rise to Cersei's attempts to bait her temper.
"Do you think yourself better than me?" the queen whispered in a menacing tone as she approached Amarah slowly, reminding her of a lion stalking its prey. Only in this instance the lion was Cersei and Amarah the prey.
"I don't think anything" she replied, leaving the implication that she was sure of the fact. "You may try to frighten me into submission all you like, my lady, but we both know you cannot touch me."
"Take care" Cersei continued in that deadly whisper as she circled around Amarah. "Your father will not always be here to protect you. And I assure you once he is gone you will never be safe from me."
Turning swiftly around Amarah looked the queen boldly in the eye moving mere inches from her face. "And let me assure you, my queen" she spoke the title with disdain as if it were poison on her lips. "I do not care. There are few things I fear in this life and you are not one of them."
Undaunted by Amarah's flippancy towards her threat the queen only responded with a menacing smile. "We shall see."
With those words she left abruptly as she had appeared. As Amarah watched the queen strut away she felt an uneasy feeling begin to grow in the pit of her stomach. She had spoken falsely when she claimed she had no fear of Cersei. The fact was clear that the queen hated her for whatever reason, but with her father on the throne Amarah was reassured of her safety.
However, the queen's threat had started her mind in an unpleasant direction. How much longer would the king live? He was a fat fool who spent his days doing nothing but drinking wine by the flagon full and bedding whores. Surely those factors combined with his position of power in the kingdoms did not ensure a long, prosperous existence. With the king gone there would be no stop to Cersei's treachery and no one to stand between her and those she hated.
"Why so serious, princess?" a sardonic tone startled her from the dark thoughts. "Do you not look forward to the joust?"
Turning around to see Jaime Lannister regarding her with his usual mocking smile she returned it with one of her own.
"What is there to look forward to without your presence on the field?" she replied with a falsely sweet smile. "Why is that I suppose? Surely you don't fear being bested twice by a mere boy."
She caught a quick glimpse of irritation flash through his eyes but it was gone as swiftly as it appeared. "Of course not. I could best Loras Tyrell blindfolded sitting backwards. He would not have unseated me the last tournament if he hadn't cheated. I simply grow tired of the stale competition that has to resort to underhanded methods to win. It is a waste of my considerable talent."
"Why is it whenever one man is bested by another he always cries foul?" she pondered seemingly to herself but loudly enough for him to hear.
"The lady knows I'm right" Jaime said in an unconcerned tone despite her pretend ignorance of Loras's dishonorable methods of winning. It was well known among court that that the young Tyrell often twisted the rules of competition in order to gain the upper hand. She would hardly be surprised if he had some other trick up his sleeve this day to conquer his opponents but she would not admit it. Giving an indifferent shrug of her shoulders at Jaime's insistence she waited for him to break the silence once again.
"Though I can imagine your disappointment at my absence" he drawled as he approached her with a lazy stride. "Does watching me cut others down excite you, my lady? Does it make you want to hitch of those pretty skirts and let me inside? I've heard it said if a man tries to get inside you his cock will freeze before it falls off. Would you like me to prove them wrong?"
Stung by his coarse words Amarah refused to let her resentment show as she tilted her head to regard him with a longing expression that was anything by genuine. "How well you see through me, Kingslayer" she replied using the title that never failed to set off an angry tick in his jaw. "I see you on the field of battle and can't overcome the indecent thoughts that fill my head. What if it were me you were riding instead of that mighty beast between your legs?" She spoke this last sentence with breathless excitement before her brow furrowed in mock concentration as if she had suddenly remembered an important thought. "But… then I think of you sitting on your arse in a field of mud as a pretty boy crows over his victory and my passion is suddenly diminished."
"Just admit it, princess" Jaime pressed seemingly unaffected by her stab at his manhood. "You long to have me inside that ice cold cunt of yours."
Narrowing her eyes to slits she leaned towards him and whispered seductively, "I'd rather fuck the Hound."
"I'm sure he would enjoy it" Jaime returned in the same seductive tone.
"I'm certain he would" she replied before turning to walk away. "That is until his cock falls off."
Tossing these last few nonchalant words over her shoulder, she strode away from the golden knight. Giving a reluctant smile of admiration once he was sure she could no longer see him, Jaime departed the field to return to the keep.
Having already forgotten her encounter with Kingslayer, Amarah carefully climbed the makeshift wooden platform that was to hold the royal family as they observed the tournament before them. As she approached she saw that the field had erupted into a bit of chaos.
"Where the devil 'ave you been?" her father groused from his perch. The chair beside him was empty as the queen must have already tired of the sport.
"Perusing" was her only answer as she took the chair by Joffrey on the right hand of the wooden dais.
"What in the seven hells has happened here?" she questioned aloud.
"The mountain has killed a man" came Joffrey's gleeful reply.
"So soon?" she asked in surprise. "How odd. He usually at least waits until the end of the tournament."
"It was all very bloody" Joffrey went on to explain with sadistic joy. "The lance snapped and buried itself in the knight's neck. It was quite a messy sight."
"Who was the knight?" she questioned him out of immediate curiosity.
Joffrey gave an unconcerned shrug of his shoulders before the Hound replied to her inquiry. "The late Jon Arryn's squire. Don't remember the name. He was recently promoted to knighthood."
"Well he's not much of anything now I suppose" Amarah murmured heartlessly as the dead man was carted off the field. She was almost loathed to admit it but the sight of so much death over the years had made her almost immune to feelings of sympathy over the fallen. Once she had felt compassion for the dead nameless knights, but the more she saw fall the less she sympathized. After all, it was their foolish decision to place themselves in harm's way. As long as the dead body was not hers she could not be bothered with much concern over it.
She found it most interesting however that the man to have killed him was under direct control of the Lannister family. Gregor Clegane, also known as "The Mountain" to whom Joffrey had referred, had been in service of the Lannister family for quite some time. She thought his death a useless gesture on their part as the boy was unlikely to give any information against them, but she supposed that it was easier to dispose of him than leave any loose ends. Intrigue could sometimes be a bloody business.
It took some time before the festivities commenced again after the unexpected interruption. As the crowd waited, Amarah looked about the field for her Uncle Ned. She was anxious to talk with him after some very disturbing reports had reached her ears, but unfortunately he was no where to be found. Curbing her irritation, she sat back and waited for her father to reappear. He had announced after the delay that he intended to joust in the tournament. Amarah was fairly certain that Ned had disappeared to talk some sense into him.
Her suspicions were confirmed once her father reappeared a short time later and she saw her Uncle join Sansa in the stands near where the royal family sat. She withheld the urge to roll her eyes at Sansa's obvious fascination for Loras Tyrell the Knight of Flowers. He looked positively ridiculous in his frivolous armor but Sansa was blinded by his beauty. Amarah looked away as she saw him grace her cousin with a red rose. Unfortunately for Sansa that particular knight would never be the one of her dreams. Amarah had also dreamed of knights once, but that was before she had awakened to the realities of a cruel world.
"No joust then?" she turned to address her father her father with a sly smile.
"I thought it best to let the men enjoy themselves without interferin'" came the gruff reply.
"Couldn't fit into the armor then" she stated more than asked before giving her attention once again to the field.
Giving a loud bark of laughter at her insolence the king joined her in looking on as the Mountain prepared to defeat the young Knight of Flowers. Unlike the Mountain however, Amarah knew that Loras was seated atop a mare in heat. A most devious trick to be sure but an unsurprising move from the young knight. As she had predicted, Loras's mare startled Clegane's mount just enough for him to unseat the much larger knight. What she did not predict however was the melee that followed.
Never one to take defeat lightly, Gregor Clegane proceeded to attack the young Tyrell on foot with his broad sword hacking off his own mount's head in the process. Amarah noted that the young Tyrell looked so frightened he was probably pissing himself right at that very moment. He might have had the advantage on the field through trickery but no chicanery would aid him in a hand-to-hand fight with the mighty Mountain.
As Amarah looked on in detached interest the Hound leaped from behind Joffrey to spare the young knight's life by goading his brother into fighting him instead. At this development, her father decided he had seen enough. Ordering them to stop, the youngest Clegane dropped to his knees in obedience just as his older brother's sword wooshed over his have burnt head. Amarah gave a small sigh of relief once she saw that the broad sword had missed the Hound. She could feel detachment from the death of a nameless knight but she would prefer not to observe the death of one she had been acquainted with for quite some years. She was far from considering Sandor Clegane a friend but she still admired him in a perverse sort of way.
After the skirmish came to an end Gregor Clegane trudged away in disgust at the outcome as Loras Tyrell applauded the Hound's bravery much to the latter's annoyance. Amarah gave an amused smile at his discomfort. However, in spite of her amusement, she had the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that a cloud hung over the proceedings. A storm was coming. She didn't know when and she didn't know how. She only knew she must be prepared.