Chapter Thirteen
A/N: Thank you to magnus374, EndlessReign and Guest for reviewing the last chapter.
The marriage feast was bigger than any Cersei had ever known. The wooden trestles were piled high with delicacies from all across the Seven Kingdoms, from the dragon peppers of Dorne to the stout pies of the North, and good wine and ale flowed freely into the goblets of the hundreds of invited guests. The hall was a clamour of noise, the clattering of cutlery and booming voices of men who called out to each other after so long kept apart. The girl almost pitied the poor musicians, had they not been paid handsomely for their troubles.
Cersei sat at her new husband's side, her marriage cloak draped across the back of her chair, a symbol of her newfound colours and status. It hurt her heart a little, to see the splendid garment gathering dust as servants brought plate after plate of delights for the new princess to sample, but she supposed it was no matter now. The cloak had served its purpose well, and there would be plenty of time for washing it before it was next needed.
The thought sent a shiver down the girl's spine. She might not have seen a royal wedding before, but she had seen a naming ceremony, for the young prince, Viserys, who sat at his mother's left-hand side, glowering and kicking his legs in boredom. That day, she would don her marriage cloak again, and display her babe for all the world to see. When she was only a slip of a girl, the thought would have filled her with joy. That was before Mother…
"Did you not enjoy the honeyed dates, my lady?" Rhaegar asked, his voice soft enough that he would not startle her. Cersei looked down at the plate in front of her, laden with the treats she had grown so fond of during her brief stays in the capital. She had not even noticed it arrived.
"I am sorry, my prince." she murmured, stumbling over her words like a fool. She could almost feel her father's glare bore into the back of her neck from where he sat at her other side. "I'm afraid I was lost in my thoughts."
"It is no wonder." Rhaegar allowed, looking out at the crowded hall. "There must be a thousand people in this hall and I would be hard pressed to name two dozen below the dais."
Cersei chuckled gently. The prince spoke truly, of course, as he always seemed to with her. Without the standards raised above their heads, Cersei could not tell one Great House from another. Starks and Baratheons and Arryns and Tyrells, they all looked the same to her, although mayhaps that did not matter any longer; after all, in truth, they were.
A dozen more courses passed before they spoke again, Cersei managing to summon the courage to start a conversation with her new husband. She did not know how she could have suddenly become so timid; she had sat beside the prince as a slip of a girl and been fearless. So little had changed since that day… and yet nothing was the same.
They kept up the snippets of conversation all throughout the evening, until the final course was taken away and the king himself got to his feet, holding up his hands for silence. It took almost half a minute for silence to finally come, and Cersei could not help but think that if her father had done the same, the gathered nobles would have quietened a good deal faster.
"My lord and ladies," Aerys began, his lips curled into a smile that seemed more menacing than proud. "Today you have gathered and borne witness to the wedding of my first son. It is a wondrous event, to see a prince of such high standing form a bridge with his people, by wedding a lady who is not of royal blood."
Tywin Lannister's fist was clenched so tight beneath the table, his skin turned pale as milk. Each word that passed Aerys' lips was like poison, and the king relished it. Years ago, when her mother still lived, a young Cersei might have reached across, to wrap her father's fingers in her own and comfort him, but not now. Even the Lady Joanna herself could not have comforted him now.
"The customs and pleasantries of marriage have been enacted, their vows sealing their souls before the Seven Gods." Aerys' seemed less superior now, for the match had been as little of his choosing as it had been his Hand's. "The ceremonies are performed, the feasts completed, and only one formality remains to the day. My son will now take his new wife to bed."
The jeers and shouts from the tables below had already begun, but Cersei could scarcely hear them. All of a sudden, it all became clear, the reason a great lump had sat in her throat all evening, barely allowing the smallest morsels of food to pass it. Mayhaps a part of her had thought it would not come… naturally, she had been wrong.
The men were already swarming towards the table, like a ravenous pack of wolves happening upon the carcass of a fallen deer. There was a hungry gleam in their eyes, she could see it even from here, as they came around the side of the dais, making their way towards the bride even as her cheeks turned beet red in anticipation.
Rhaegar was faster. He leapt to his feet, resting a firm hand on Cersei's arm and pulling her behind him, shielding her body with his own. She could not see the look on his face from where she stood, but she could see the other men. The hunger in their eyes had been displaced, by something that looked uncannily like fear.
"There will be no bedding ceremony, my lords." Rhaegar stated firmly, struggling to keep the angry tremor from his voice. "It is a tradition I have always found outdated and uncomfortable to witness, let alone to participate in, and it will not take place tonight."
"Rhaegar, remember your place." Aerys' voice was low and dangerous, but his son took no heed.
"I am well aware of my place, Father." the young man all but snapped. "I know that I am a prince, but I am also a husband, and my new wife a princess. I will not have her stripped for the entertainment of a group of hungry men, however noble they might be. The bedding shall go ahead, but in private. I will not hear of any other way."
In that instant, all in the palace forgot that Aerys was the true ruler of Westeros, for none carried more authority than Rhaegar as he led the young princess from the hall, the doors closing behind the two, and only the two.
The hall outside was silent as Rhaegar and Cersei retired to their chamber, the former firmly bolting the door once they were inside. The only sound in the room was the flickering of the fire in its grate, and Cersei's heartbeat that seemed to pound loudly enough to be heard down in Flea Bottom.
It took a few shuddering attempts before the girl finally found the strength to speak, and even them she sounded far more timid than a lioness ought to. "Thank you, my prince. I know that you'll hear more on that speech come morning."
"And come morning, I'll defend myself the same way I did tonight." Rhaegar answered, removing his swordbelt and laying it on the ottoman at the end of the bed. "They may be my subjects, but you are my wife. You need not thank me for defending you. It is the one thing I have promised myself since childhood that I would do; to keep my wife from harm."
"And I will do the same for you, as best I can." Cersei knew it was not much to promise. She had little skill with weaponry, except the small morsels of knowledge she had retained from Jaime's lessons back when she was a girl, and she would hold little sway in politics even as queen, but nonetheless Rhaegar smiled.
"Thank you for that." The silver-haired prince reached across the room, and took her hand in his. That one small gesture and the words that preceded it, would be more powerful to the two than anything else that occurred that night. It was the moment that a powerful man and woman were fused together as one, and the moment that a great future was forged.
A/N: Kind of at a loss as to how to end that chapter, so it ended up a little bit poetic! Still, I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and the sweet moments, because there will be a lot more drama to come now! Please review!
