a/n: I'm back! Thank you all for being so patient, I really appreciate it. This chapter, as promised, is from Cerenna's perspective. Points to whoever can identify what, exactly, Cerenna's moods are. Also, keep in mind that all Lannisters play the long game. Cerenna has plans. PLANS I TELL YOU PLANS.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. You know the shtick.
Cerenna was well aware that she was not a 'nice' person, by any stretch of the word. She could be kind and loyal and charming, when and if the notion struck her, but she could also be vicious and snide, and altogether unpleasant if she wished. The word her aunt often used to describe her was capricious, and it was not inaccurate. Cerenna was many things, but never nice. As her Grandfather was fond of saying, being nice made you weak. Lannisters should never be weak. So she did not begrudge the courtiers fear of her, it was well founded. However there was a difference between fear and disrespect. The fact that she wasn't nice didn't excuse others being disdainful of her. She was a Lannister, the niece of the Queen, and the Lady of Casterly rock.
In sum, Cerenna was quite irritated with the Ladies Stark, and was contemplating it even as she sat quietly, enjoying her aunt's hands in her hair. With Myrcella in her lap, and her aunt braiding her hair she could not pace and fidget as she typically did when trying to puzzle out such an issue. It really was a shame, such a pleasant morning wasted on such contemplation. Cerenna had loved the simple pleasure of another person's hands in her hair since she was a child. First it had been her mother, then her 'Aunt' Lady Alerie Tyrell, while she fostered at Highgarden, and after the Queen had brought her into court her Aunt Cersei would take the time in the morning to do it, before she did it for Myrcella.
It had been the tradition of Westeros since long before the Targaryens, and perhaps even before the Andals, that a mother would do her unmarried daughter's hair. It was during this time that a mother spoke to her daughter about what it was to be a wife, a mother, and a lady. It was during this time, when, on the morning of a girl's first moon blood, that a girl was told of the beauty and mystery of the gift she had, how men might not respect it, but she always should. She was told of a man's passion, and what it meant to be bedded, of how it would hurt and bleed the first time, and, if she was unlucky, all the times after. She was told of how a child was worth any suffering, be it in the marriage bed, or the birthing bed.
When Cerenna's mother had died she had spent a year without a loved one to arrange her hair. The ache in the morning, when she sat in front of a ladies maid, who worked quickly, and without love or words, was nigh unbearable. Then she had been sent to foster at Highgarden, and once more discovered what it was to have her hair done with care, and affection, and best of all, gained a sister.
It was often said among men that when you fought together, fostered together, or shared milk from the same breast, you were brothers, but these bonds were broken as easily as cutting one's hair among men, all too often. They would fight together one moment, and against each other the next. But it was whispered among women that when the same hands braided your hair you were sisters in all but blood, sisters in soul, and that was a bond not easily broken, for the hands would braid your soul together, never to be parted. Cerenna spent 3 years with the Tyrells, and she had been distraught at the idea of being taken from them. She hadn't even been allowed to return to Casterly rock, as was her custom every two months, the flooded rivers stopping any notion of frivolous travel, so by the time she left for court she had not seen the Rock in 4 months.
Then she had arrived at Kingslanding, expecting to be once more berfeit of loving hands in her hair. It was not so. Her Aunt Cersei, who she had only met twice as a child, had declared that only her hands would touch her beloved niece's hair, and so it was. Though Cerenna split her time between the Rock and Kingslanding, with only 2 weeks in 5 spent in the Capitol, when she was away she did her own hair (except those rare times that Aunt Alerie did it), and it was her Aunt that sat behind her, brushing her hair and speaking in hushed tones when she had her first moonblood.
This was why she was truly a child of the North and the South despite what others might say. She had been born in the midst of Winter, with snow heavy on the ground, she worshipped her mother's gods, spoke her mother's tongue, learned to fight as her mother's people did, and respected the old ways, but she had been raised in the South, by the South. It was not always easy to be the child of two cultures so diametrically opposed to one another, but she was strong for it. Her Grandfather had always said that a hybrid either gained all the strengths of it's parents, or all the weaknesses. She had all the strengths. The issue lay in proving to the venerable Lady Stark that her children had gained all the weaknesses.
Still, she did enjoy the quiet moments, early in the morning. Soon Joffrey would be up, and with him the whole of the court, including her beloved uncle, and his degrading epithets. She would go from Cenna to the Kingslayer's spawn, and have to deal with the Ladies (and Lords, she supposed) Stark.
A knock sounded just as her Aunt finished with her hair, and called out "Enter!", tucking the last pin into her hair, and Cerenna shifted Myrcella off her lap. She was not surprised when Ser Edric of Crakehall entered the room. He was one of her sworn shields, and she had asked him to enquire, discreetly, about the dynamics of the household. The man was decent with a sword, but excellent at taking a few whispered rumors, some training yard talk, and a bit of flirting with a housemaid and turning it into a well informed picture of a household.
"My Lady" he rumbled "I've come to escort you to break your fast, if you please."
Cerenna gave him a brilliant smile. "Certainly, Ser Edric", she said, rising from her seat, kissing her cousin and aunt as she went to take his arm.
The door shut behind them with a bit of a bang, but Ser Edric remained as stoic as ever, yet another reason he made such an excellent vassal. The man's face was a blank slate, absolutely unreadable.
"I trust you are well this morn, My Lady?" he asked lowly, veiled concern in his voice and eyes, and he bent to kiss her cheek, as was his custom. Oh her lovely, somber Edric. He had been with her from the start of her fosterage, and seen her at the worst of her moods. The dark depths she descended to, and the frantic, energetic moods which often followed.
"I am fine, my dear Ser, I assure you. Now, tell me what you have learned. I am… most curious about Lady Stark's methods of running her household," she smiled wickedly, "after all, she is the wife of the Lord Paramount and Warden of the North. She surely knows the ways of my Mother's people."
"Aye, My Lady" he chuckled, "surely. From what I can tell the Lady runs Winterfell with no little economy, and a sternness that might match that of Lady Olenna. She has refused to allow her daughters to learn to fight, as is the typical way of the North. The eldest has taken it well, as delicate a flower as the most fragile Southron lady, but the youngest is fierce and has a wild temperament, they call it the wolfsblood. The younger lads are adventurous, and the youngest is just as wild as his sister, if not more so. The older boys of the house are… interesting. The Ward, the Heir and the Bastard son." He paused as they passed an errand boy, who rushed by with a basin of water.
"Well?" she demanded, impatiently, "What is so interesting?"
"The heir and the bastard are as close as any brothers, and the Stark lad is fond of the Greyjoy boy, but Snow and Greyjoy seem to clash with some frequency. In short, though they are fully grown, they are still boys, with the wild whims and passions of boys."
And she'd had such high hopes. Ah well, there were others who could play the game.
Ser Edric lowered his voice as he continued."All in all, my lady, it is a peaceful household. The Lord and Lady Stark have no small affection for each other, the siblings seem to genuinely care for one another, and the whole of the servants love the family. The bastard son seems the only source of tension in the keep." He continued speaking giving her specific details which she registered with one ear, as she began to think.
The babe Eddard had brought out of Dorne, after the Tower of Joy. The one her mother had thought might actually be… Ah, well that could be useful. Especially if he was so very passionate. It would make him easier to maneuver. Though, if he was who her mother had thought he might be, she owed him a debt. Varys would give his manhood again, twice over, for information like this. If she chose to take that path then it would need to be tread with care.
They arrived at the breakfast table to find the men of her family already arrayed around it, with the exception of the King, who, with any luck would be sleeping off all the Northern ale he'd consumed last night. Perhaps her father could be persuaded to excuse her from Lady Stark's solar, at least for this one day. It was bound to be deadly dull and Lady Catelyn would undoubtedly have an array of supremely irritating questions, and thinly veiled, poorly executed insults. Her mother's family would be arriving in half a sennight, and surely she could deal with 3 days of boredom, if only she didn't have to do so today.
"Cousins" she said, planting a kiss on Tommen's head, with a nod to Joff, who had outgrown forehead kisses some 6 months ago now, before plopping down between her father and uncle, pressing kisses to their cheeks. "Aunt Cersei will be down soon, she was doing Myrcella's hair when Ser Edric and I left" she said, cutting off her father as he opened his mouth. He grinned.
"You, my daughter, are insolent." He proclaimed laughing.
She smiled ruefully. "And you, my father are as predictable as the tides!" It was true. Her father was happy as long as he had his family and his sword, and you could be as sure of his actions as you were sure the sun would rise. Still, with that out of the way she could introduce the idea of absenting herself from the solar for the day. Perhaps she could go riding.
"So, cousin mine, will you be joining Lady Stark in her parlor today, with the other ladies of the court?" Joffrey inquired insipidly, with a vicious little smile. She loved her cousin, but he was a brat of, well, royal proportions. She gave him her brightest smile, the one her whole family knew meant that she would be paying her debts as soon as she could, and reached out to pinch his cheek- hard.
"Actually Joff, dearest, I was hoping My Lord Father might give me leave to absent myself today." She said turning to her father, "I would like to go riding today, and mayhaps visit Winterfell's godswood. I have been rather used to being out of doors so oft lately that I'm feeling a tad trapped within walls."
Her father shrugged, and nodded toward the door. "Ask your Aunt, sweetling, I don't care one way or the other."
"Ask me what, Jaime?" her aunt asked, as Ser Arys Oakheart handed her into her seat.
"Cerenna would like permission to absent herself from Lady Stark's solar today, dear sister" Tyrion answered instead, smirking as Cersei's eyes narrowed to slits. Damn, damn, double damn. She'd had a fair chance with her aunt, if she'd asked, but with her little Uncle advocating it her chances had just become almost nill. And from the twinkle in his eyes he knew it too. Very well, Uncle, mine, two could play at that game she thought viciously.
"I'd like to go riding, Aunt, maybe visit the Godswood. Though I'd planned to just take Ser Edric, perhaps the younger members of the Stark clan would like to escort Uncle Tyrion, Joff and I, and of course anyone else who wishes to go" she paused with a small smile. "It would get them out of the solar, where they would likely just be troublesome, and I'm sure Robb Stark wouldn't mind postponing his training to escort the heir to the Iron throne around the lands he will one day hold in Joff's name. After all it is important that Joff, as heir form bonds with his future Wardens." she exclaimed, "It's the perfect plan!"
Aunt Cersei relaxed some, and noting the displeased expression on Tyrion's face, smiled. A Lannister always pays her debts, it just so happens that this Lannister is especially swift about about it, which her Uncle and Cousin would do well to remember. And now for the finishing touch- "Also, I'm a little concerned that Joff would want to train with boys 3 and 4 years his elder. After all he might be hurt." she mused casually, a hint of worry in my voice. Her Aunt immediately frowned, and Cerenna knew she had her. Joff sputtered in protest, but it was too late.
"You are right, Cerenna, a ride sounds like an excellent idea. I will speak with Lady Stark about it immediately. There should be no confusion over the plans, that way." The Queen declared rising from her seat, and heading off to where Lady Stark was speaking with her Maester. Both Joff and Uncle Tyrion glared at her, and she smiled.
This was actually a better plan, she could see for herself the interaction between Robb Stark and Greyjoy, as well as expose Joff to some older boys who might temper that ego of his. Maybe if she was lucky, Jon Snow would come along too, and she could sow a little discord. If not there was always the training field. She was the Kingslayer's daughter as well as the child of a daughter of the North. She knew her way around most weapons, and was especially proficient with the dual short swords that were even now holstered along her leg and down into her boot beneath her dress, which like all of her dresses could be shortened to reveal the pants underneath, for ease of movement. That wasn't even accounting for the daggers and throwing knives she had tucked up her sleeves and down her bodice. The other boys, the nobles, would laugh when she asked to join, but Jon Snow could no more refuse her than he could stop the tides. And if what additional rumors Edric had passed along to her were true- well- she could go to her father and tell him, very loudly, of Snow's potential, and how she thought he might one day surpass all other swordsmen, other than her honored father, of course. It didn't need to be true, only plausible. And if Edric was right about Snow being the stress point, the household would splinter right down the center with the right application of pressure, giving her Aunt the opening she would need to interfere with Lord Stark's appointment as Hand of the King, cause Lady Stark a great deal of stress, and create an opportunity for Cerenna herself to observe Jon Snow, and decipher if he could be instead, Jon Targaryen, true heir to the Iron Throne, and if so, what ought to be done about it.
There was no question, Cerenna had quite a lot to do and only a little time in which to do. In which case- it was time to get started.