Chapter Six

A/N: Thank you to Sithlord king, magnus374 and Guest for reviewing the last chapter.

The cheers erupted, deafening loud, as the disgraced rider led his horse away from the lists. After a fortnight of competition, only two challengers remained, one riding beneath the royal standard, the blood-red dragon prowling in the night, the other beneath a sword and a falling star. Ser Arthur Dayne was one of the most deadly knights in the realm, a young man with blood aplenty dripping from his sword, but the crowd were not cheering for him. How could they, when his opponent was their own crowned prince.

After six rounds of challenges, Rhaegar's breastplate remained intact, not a single dent marring the intricate design. His opponent had not emerged quite so unscathed, his star-covered armour scratched in places, with a great gouge taken out of the pattern in one place from where a gifted Reacher's lance had come close to dislodging him from his saddle. He had made the man pay for it, sending him crashing to the dirt so harshly a smear of blood was left behind as he was carried away. Ser Arthur was a gifted fighter, gifted enough to send a shiver down Cersei's spine.

"Do you think the prince will win?" Jeyne Farman murmured, as if she could not quite find the courage to address her guardian's daughter. Cersei did not answer, closing her eyes firmly. They both knew why she would not speak to Jeyne; it was too painful to think of the reason she was sat by her side and not Melara.

The poor girl had featured in her dreams every night since it had happened, screaming and crying as she fell, begging for someone to save her. In the dream, Cersei stood by as the knights pulled her bloated corpse from the well; in truth, she had barricaded herself in her room long before that. Dozens of people had knocked on her door- her father had accused her of insulting their guests, while Jaime had expressed his concern for her welfare- but she had not ignored them all. That was, until Prince Rhaegar came to see her.

She had not told him why she was so upset that night, had peddled the same lie her father spread through the castle, and he had not questioned her. They had spoken very little, more her fault than his, but in those brief minutes, the prince had given her a freedom no one else had dreamt of. For years, all the men around her wanted her to be a perfect lady; the prince was the first who had allowed her to be a child.

The trumpets blared their summons to the two knights, mixing with the cheers to form an almighty din. Cersei could feel her heartbeat pounding in her head, the beat so intense it felt she may heave her heart up into her mouth. Ser Arthur appeared first, the sun on his shield catching the golden light of its inspiration. He rode up to a young woman on the opposite end of the stands- a pretty daughter of one of her father's bannermen- and retrieved the scrap of fabric from her wrist. The cheers grew louder as the girl blushed, retreating to her chair, but it was not the Dornishman they cheered for.

Each lady in the crowd perched forward in her seat, fingers worrying the ribbons tied at their arms. All except for Cersei Lannister; she had no need for such gestures. The moment he had entered the lists, Rhaegar's eyes had gone to her. She could almost feel the burning glares of the women around her.

"My Lady Cersei," Prince Rhaegar called, his voice powerful as the crowd cheered louder than ever. "Would you do me the honour of allowing me to wear your favour?"

"The honour is mine, my prince." she responded meekly. From the corner of her eye, she saw her father nod his approval. Jaime was not anywhere near as impressed. The boy looked as if he might bolt from the stands, even if it meant he could not see his idols ride. Paying it no more heed, Cersei tied her ribbon to the prince's lance, leaning forward so as to speak without being overheard. "Good luck, my prince. I'll be cheering for you."

"Then luck will certainly be on my side." the prince smirked, bowing his head as he rode away.

Those were the words that had sealed his fate. After seven labourious tilts, it was Prince Rhaegar who fell from his saddle, clinging to the stirrups for a few awful seconds as his horse dragged him through the dust. Cersei flew from her seat, hands clasped around her mouth, eyes wide as she watched the prince pull himself from the dirt to stand and clap his opponent on the back.

Ser Arthur was overcome with joy, climbing the wooden frames of the viewers' box to land a kiss on the lips of the young woman whose favour he had sported. Her father seethed somewhere further up the stands, but laid down his grudge when he heard the king's laughter. Every man and woman stood in the crowd was watching Ser Arthur, shouting congratulations for his great achievement.

Cersei watched Rhaegar instead. With all eyes averted, the prince allowed himself to lean backwards, resting his weight on the flank of his horse instead of his shaking legs. He looked up at her with sadness in his eyes, but she simply smiled. Rhaegar stopped a moment, stunned, before he smiled in return.

'He had expected me to flock to Ser Arthur like the others.' Cersei realised later. 'I thought he would know me better by now. Mayhaps he is not a great champion, and mayhaps Ser Arthur is better at the joust. It does not make him the better man, only the luckier one. And any girl who marries for luck is a fool. Besides, he saw the child I truly was and he respected me for it. I will do the same for him.'

She did not know quite why she had thought of marriage then, as she admired the intricate braid her handmaiden had weaved atop her head. She was still young, only a girl though she liked to pretend she was not so, and her father would not award her hand so quick. Tonight was not the night to think of serious things, she chastised herself. Tonight was for feasting and dancing, celebrating Ser Arthur's victory and spending what precious little time she had left with Prince Rhaegar. 'They will be leaving soon, all of them. And then my life will go back to the dullness it has always been.'

Little did she know, a woods witch crouched in the darkness, watching the candles flicker in the windows of the castle above. Her cracked lips curved into a wicked smile, as she realised how strong her words would tell. She had done nothing really, only tell a fortune to a pair of young noble girls, speaking only the truths they had asked for. The age-old saying rang clear as the bells in the castle tower, pealing a warning for all to hear. 'She ought not have asked.' the woman thought, for a moment kind-hearted. 'Now that she knows, there can be no return from it. A Lannister must always pay her debts.'

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!