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She was curious. It happened often when something had excited her. Like when the first time Jaime and her intertwined in both soul and body. When they first made that most intimate of physical contact. She was curious about something she did not expect to be worthy of such frivolities.
Stannis Baratheon, The Bitter Stag and Lord of Dragonstone.
That was what she heard from the noblefolk who spoke ill of him. An ill favored second brother who had incurred the wrath of his brother King Robert when he confronted him about his Wolf-wife.
She had thought him as simply a jealous man, who was blind to his inadequacies and too slow to grasp the game of thrones.
And yet.
When he had that woman hanged, after she had slain one of his bannermen. She felt something that she thought she wouldn't have when she was first told she was to be staying here.
Jealously.
She had saw the looks on his bannermen's faces, all of them cowed like cattle. They feared him. When he had allowed the smallfolk woman to kill her rapist and then hanged her she was entranced. This was the justice of Stannis Baratheon.
It was cruel, yet to her it was fair. A life for a life.
Her handmaidens soon after were terrified. When they returned to their quarters all they spoke was of the savagery of their host. It made her sigh in consternation. Her father would often do the same sort of deeds hence why she wasn't as struck by it.
"I dread staying here for another month." Those were the words of Leonella Lefford, they were now in their bedchambers preparing for sup.
The fat girl was the younger sister of Lady Myranda Lefford now Lannister, a goodwife of Cersei's own mother. Cersei thought her a bubbly cretin too caught up in a fairy tale view of the world.
"Calm down Nel, just don't get on Lord Stannis' bad side." The tallest of her handmaidens spoke. Melessa Crakehall was the most realistic of her handmaidens. She was fully aware her homely looks would not have promised her many marriage opportunities. In part her service under Cersei was an effort by her father to find a suitable and promising husband.
"Mel, have you seen him? I think his bad side is all there is….." Nerissa Banefort was a painfully timid girl who possessed a queer derangement of the mind. According to her Maester she was gripped by a crippling fear of men's gazes, a fear so powerful that she had resorted to cover her face with a veil whenever out in public. The girl had small lips, a petite beak nose, greenish-blue eyes, dark hair and was incredibly pale. She was also the most endowed among them, hiding her blessed body under layers of lace to conceal it. Cersei would not admit but she was probably the most attractive of her handmaidens. A pity it was wasted on such a girl.
"I think all of you simply misunderstand." Shierle Swyft was the cunning one among them, she looked sweet and kind; but, had the mind to survive in the courts and the sufficient 'humility' to not use those skills to her advantage. Indeed, that was why she was the handmaiden she trusted the most.
"Do you fancy the Lord of Dragonstone Shierle?" Cersei faintly smiled as she saw the redness flare up on her handmaiden's cheeks.
"My lady. I simply believe that Lord Stannis could not be such a terrible man." She stuttered out her response.
"How can you say that? Didn't you see how he hanged that poor smallfolk woman? She was raped!" Leonella was annoyingly self-righteous. The type that Cersei had initially though Stannis would be. She thought that the laws of gods and men were right and just. Such flowery conceptions of the world lead to the deaths of many innocent maidens.
"She slew a nobleman which by law must be answered with death."Leonella was quick to silence herself once Cersei spoke up. None of them dared to talk back to the Lady Lannister.
"Do you think him the sort of man who'd be a good husband?" Cersei giggled.
"Please Leonella your naivety will spell the end of you one day. Stannis is no doubt a cold and unforgiving man with no inkling of gentleness or tenderness. I would wager he'd fuck me only for the purpose of siring an heir and pretend I didn't exist once I did my duty in childbirth." Leonella blushed at the vulgarity of Lady Cersei's words.
"Are you okay with it my Lady?" Cersei stared at Leonella not with the judging and look of contempt she usually did; but, a softer sadder one.
"I don't know." Cersei spoke softly.
"I think you may like him Lady Cersei." All eyes were focused on the Swyft maiden
"Pardon?" Cersei said dangerously. She never liked it when someone assumed something for her.
"Forgive me for such an impudent statement; but, I believe Stannis might not be such a horrendous match." She bowed like her life depended on it.
"Pray tell why you think such is the case?" More and more Cersei's voice growled like the beast that was stitched on her blouse.
"Stannis is a good man." Cersei blinked, disarmed by that answer.
"The good Lady complains always about how men are such liars. That they never speak the truth to you and how it always leaves you in consternation. Stannis Baratheon never lies. I believe he has never told a lie in his life." Cersei inclined her head slightly.
"Just because Stannis is a good man does not mean I should like him. In fact, it would make me despise him all the more. Good men would have me punished for my peculiarities." The handmaidens present suppressed the need to comment on that. They all had the vaguest clue of what activities Lady Lannister participated in with her twin brother.
"Good men are useless. They speak ideals but are blind to how the world works. They try to force it to confirm and only encounter resistance. Good men are fools who die in the end." Cersei believed in those words. Believed it with all her heart. Her grandfather was a good man, and he was awarded with cruelty by his own vassals. Her mother was a good woman, but she perished in childbirth and cursed their family with an ugly dwarf. The gods did not care for good men, neither would she.
Then an image of Stannis Baratheon manifested in her mind. She saw the look of resentment, how he stared with utter hatred at Storm's End.
She couldn't help but see herself on him. She felt wronged by her father for abandoning her here. She hated the Gods for making her the female twin, cursing them with that bastard Tyrion. She wanted to become powerful so she would make her own decisions.
Yet Stannis was maddeningly different, that difference was why she was so obsessed with him. For even with all that's happened to him he still believed futility in his useless duty. It irked her that someone of a similar mind would willingly continue doing the deeds that put them in such a situation to begin with.
And what irked her the most was how Stannis felt much more powerful than her. She was the daughter of the most powerful lord of the Seven kingdoms while he was the younger hated brother of the King. There were rumors that King Robert himself would have branded Stannis a bastard if he did not sire an heir with his Stark wife and pass the throne to Renly.
How then does this forgotten Baratheon inspire so much awe and wits robbing fright in her? When she stood beneath his gaze she felt like she was a child once more chastised by her father.
Her father.
Stannis Baratheon reminded her so much of the man. It terrified her. Even now she was shaking at the thought of having sup with him.
Stannis Baratheon made her feel so small and helpless. She hated that, she wanted to have the same effect on others. She wanted to learn from him, learn how to be feared.
Was that why she was so curious about him?
Ser Davos was an oddity to her. A smallfolk smuggler turned knight, the tale of his knighthood seemed consistent with what little she's learned of Stannis Baratheon.
"He took all the joints on my left hand, and gave me knighthood." He was surprisingly polite and well-mannered for someone who was a criminal just a few years ago. Even so she barely tolerated his presence.
There was a purpose to her conversing with him during sup.
"What sort of woman does Lord Stannis fancy?" Davos stared at her just as he was about to bite into buttered, toasted bread. He closed his eyes, momentarily thinking of what to say.
"I cannot say. Lord Stannis never makes mention of it." Useless.
"Is he a pillowbiter then?" Ser Davos almost choked at that.
"I assure you my Lady that Stannis Baratheon very much enjoys the other sex." He goofily smiled.
"How are you so sure?" Davos took the time to shallow.
"Lord Stannis expects himself to sire sons as to inherit Dragonstone. For that he needs a good dutiful wife." Cersei fought the urge to retch.
"Do you think I'm up to such a task?" Ser Davos became more subdued.
"That depends on Lord Stannis." Lady Cersei wasn't even sure why she bothered starting this conversation. It gave her nothing but speckles of spit and food on her fine dress.
It looked like she needed to ask directly from the source.
She expected him to still be seated here late at night. Staring at the painted table, at his stolen birthright. She was wearing a more "modest" attire now. A long flowing gown that was stitched in the rich blood red Lannister colors. He however was still armed in the same old brigandine, as if he was hoping some sort of siege on the castle would save him from the banality of his current existence.
"Again you remain awake walking through my halls. Are you still thinking about the future?" Cersei steeled herself, never letting her eyes astray from his own. She was not going to surrender.
"Forgive me Lord Stannis; but, I have been meaning to ask you a question that requires private audience." Stannis Baratheon gestured with his hand.
"Voice them." He said in monotone.
"What sort of wife would you wish for my Lord?" Stannis stared unfazed by such a strange question.
"What every man wishes for. One of sound mind and strong of body to sire many heirs." Cersei was not convinced.
Men aren't that simple.
"Of course; but, some men have their preference. There are men who fancy Dornish wives that are wild in will and passion, others a good Riverlands wife who speak with kindness and even those who fancy cold and strong Northern wives." Stannis didn't seem interested in what she had to say.
"What kind of wife would you be then?"
"Any sort of wife you wanted." Stannis Baratheon snorted at that.
"I did not think the Lannisters to be such spineless pussy cats." Cersei bristled at that, angered by the insult to her house.
"You dare mock my house Lord Stannis?" Stannis stood up. Planting his hands on the table and looked towards the Westerlands, towards Casterly Rock.
"You are the one disrespecting your house with such sycophantic mewlings. A lion's pride is unquestionable, do not insult my intelligence by pretending you care enough to be the good wife." Cersei bit her lip, a bit taken back that Stannis wasn't as much of a fool that she thought he was.
"Then why am I here if you do not believe I would be a good wife?" Stannis looked at her queerly.
"This arrangement was foisted on me without my consent. Did you think I suddenly changed my mind when I denied it the first time? I do not second guess." So if it were up to him she wouldn't even be here?
"So you are like me then? Forced into a union we both do not want?" Stannis tapped his fingers on the old wood of the table.
"Then cannot we break it then?" Stannis stared at her.
"Did you forget the words from our earlier nightly dalliance? This is beyond us. This union is not our union but that of our houses. Baratheon and Lannister united through marriage." Stannis spoke bitterly.
She remained quiet, confident if she continued he would start ranting about duty.
"So is this to be my fate? Just a mere tool for my father? For my house? Even if I hate you?" She was getting scared now. Her emotions were running wild, and she getting impulsive. She worried the day when Stannis' patience would run out.
"That is our duty." Again once more without fail he says that word. No emotion, no nothing. Only a dull voice.
"My duty is to shit out Baratheon children? My duty is to wed a man incapable of love?!" She gasped and closed her mouth with her hands. Horrified by what she had said.
She looked at him, a dead look on his eyes.
"Do you think that is all to being a wife?" He spoke with a dangerous edge to his voice.
She recovered slightly, finding herself once more in another lecture.
"It isn't?" Even so, Stannis didn't seem to be a Septon who preached blindly. He seemed to have awareness of the world they lived in.
"A wife's duty is no less difficult than a husband's." She was always frustrated whenever men like Stannis talked. It confused her.
"Who do you think births the great men of legends? Who do you think raises them? Shapes their character? A good wife and mother can create a great man. A terrible mother can ruin kingdoms. Maegor Targaryen was a terrible and cruel king, and he became so because of his cold mother Visenya." She had a vague knowledge of history, but even she knew about Aegon's sister-wives.
"Did your own mother not teach you about a wive's duty?" She felt a deep stab to her heart.
"My mother died when I was young." She spoke with anger and sadness.
For the first time Stannis had a look of surprise. His dark blue eyes widened.
"Did you not know of this my lord?" It was now her turn to ask questions.
He remained quiet, quickly regaining his composure.
"It seems I have been getting lax. I recalled of such a thing but have forgotten. Forgive me." Even taken by surprise he seemed cool and collected.
"I heard a same fate befalling your own mother." That was the few things she bothered to learn about Stannis Baratheon, mostly because it resonated with her in a superficial manner.
Stannis' face tightened, the edge of his lips curled into a bitter expression.
"Are you willing to suffer in duty to be forever conjoined to an arrogant Lannister wife?" She spoke with renewed confidence; under the impression she was now with the advantage.
She was wrong.
"Are you truly a Lannister?" She blinked, her golden eyelashes batting as she tried to make sense of the question.
"Do you not see the colors I wear?" She spun as she tried flourishing her gown.
"Not once did you step foot here did I feel a Lannister from you." Her heart sank. She tried her best to hide it.
"By what right does the stag judge a lion?" She growled back.
Stannis seemed unimpressed.
"By every right. The lion is a hunter, the stag its prey. Yet if the lion proves weak the stag feels unthreatened. I do not feel threatened in your presence. "She grinded her teeth, incredulous at how the stag was talking down on her.
"I am the daughter of Tywin Lannister!" She declared loudly.
"Then the stag should fear the father and not the lioness?"
She stepped back, as if she had been dealt a physical blow. She found herself incapable of responding for it was the truth.
It was her father that men feared.
It was then that Stannis grew enraged.
"Look at you. That stupid face you have. You are no lion; you are a cub abandoned in the wild." Stop.
"Is this what passes for pride? With just a sentence you are struck dumb. What sort of lion limps away when faced with words? "Stop it please.
She felt tears welling up. She didn't want to cry in front of him. Not in front of a stag.
"You are recoiling away from a stag. You insult your ancestors and your house. Stop stepping back now!" She froze. Stannis Baratheon was demanding her to desist.
"Why do you care about me being a Lannister?" She spoke with a wavy and pained voice. Tears streaming down from her emerald eyes.
"We must all do our duty." What?
"What do you mean?" She choked back her tears now, regaining her bearings.
"I see in you the makings of a great Lannister. Arrogant, vain, ostentatious, audacious, witty, quick and duplicitous. Ser Davos is of the mind you are a deceitful snake. Yet even he with his keen senses admits he is incapable of detecting your true intentions, which speaks greatly of your capacity for treachery." She didn't believe what she was hearing.
"You think treachery a virtue?" She laughed out.
"For a Lannister? Yes. You forget your words. The words of your house. Every house abides by them. The Tyrells say 'Growing Strong' and they are quickly becoming a powerful house, the Stark's say 'Winter is Coming' and as Lords of the North it is apt. Mine own words is 'Our's is the Fury' and all Baratheon men are cursed with terrible temper." She remained speechless.
"The Lannisters are arrogant, all that they have is their pride. Without their pride they are nothing. It is pride that built their house. Lann the Clever gained Casterly Rock as a seat through his audacious wit stemming from his pride. It was pride that allowed Loren to survive the field of fire. It is a Lannister's duty to sow and harvest this pride; to hold unto it. For if they do not they betray their house word's, they betray the duty imposed on them by their ancestors and by Aegon when he created the Iron Throne."
"So…you want me to be more prideful?" She couldn't understand. What was Stannis Baratheon trying to say?
"Not exactly. Pride is the Lannister strength and weakness. Just as how fury has been the curse and strength of my own House. It was fury that cost King Argilac his life and it was pride that made Tommen the second of his name the last Lannister bearer of Brightroar." He knew so much of her House's history. It amazed her. He even knew the more obscure figures of her bloodline.
"What I expect from you is to fulfill your duty to your own house, to your own station as a woman. For I cannot stand those who do not fulfill their duties. You are a Lannister. Your house is of arrogance, of vanity and ambition. In your veins run the blood of an ancient line that stretches thousands of years. You are the most beautiful woman of the land, yet more importantly you carry with you the key to your father's ambition. You are given control of the fate of House Lannister. Will you fulfill your duty to your House?" She didn't realize until now but there was truth to his words. This betrothal was critical for her House's fortune. If she did not see it through her father would suffer.
"What are your words?" She looked down at the floor, a bit embarrassed.
"Hear me roar…" She spoke so softly that it was like a whisper.
"That is your roar? No wonder I do not fear you! Speak louder!" She clenched her fists and stared at her with resolute emerald eyes.
"HEAR ME ROAR!" She spoke so loudly that the very stone of Dragonstone shook.
She took in deep laborious breaths as she felt all of her fears and troubles melt away. She looked at him.
He had a small smile. It made her heart flutter.
"What a fearsome roar! I fear it has awoken my entire garrison. Never forget those words. Those are not only your house words but yours as well. It is not your father's roar nor your brother's. Your roar, the one thing duty has given for you to own. You are a Lannister, no matter what happens no matter what you suffer in your fulfillment of your duty no one can take your roar. It is yours by blood and by right. You are a daughter of lions. Nothing can never take that away from you. Yours is pride and audacity and ambition. You are no Dornish harlot, no Riverlands maid or Northern warrior woman. You are of the Westerlands."
She understood.
She finally understood.
She knew why he was always sitting here, why he was sulking. He was doing it out of his duty to his House. He was a Baratheon and his was the fury. She finally realized that when Stannis was talking to her he was in fact talking to himself as well. It was his own way of convincing himself he was doing the right thing. Why didn't she realize this sooner?
They were interrupted as men of Stannis' household guards entered alarmed by the loud noises. After that both had decided it was about time they retired to their bed chambers.
When she felt the sweet comfort of her bed she thought she would have had an easy sleep; but, as she neared the joys of slumber her mind drifted back to her earlier conversation with Lord Stannis.
Why she thought? She had already satisfied her own curiosities. Stannis Baratheon was indeed a sad man who was trying to tell to himself he was fulfilling his duty in a wasted afforded of justifying his stubborn pride. Why then did she still think of him?
You are a Lannister, no matter what happens no matter what you suffer in your fulfillment of your duty no one can take your roar. It is yours by blood and by right.
She remembered her father saying something similar, reinforcing her view that Stannis was a poor man's Tywin; but, the way he said it was completely different. Tywin chastised, what Stannis did was encourage. Tell her to be greater than she thought she was.
Those are not only your house words but yours as well. It is not your father's roar nor your brother's. Your roar, the one thing duty has given for you to own.
HER roar, for the first time someone had cared to mention her roar as well.
I see in you the makings of a great Lannister.
She felt her heart, how its beating was hastening.
She couldn't.
She tried to banish those thoughts. She tried to banish the thoughts of an ugly Stannis Baratheon smiling as she declared loudly her house words.
She tried to think back to Jamie. Of sweet Jamie who she loved with all her heart and who-
You are the most beautiful woman of the land
Stannis Baratheon does not lie. He meant those words. He honestly thought she was the most beautiful woman of the land.
No, this was foolish! Her heart was simply being fickle! This is merely a maidens fancy! Her heart and very soul belonged to Jamie her on-
You are a daughter of lions. Nothing can never take that away from you.
She grasped her chest and cursed her heart for its infidelity. She had barely known Stannis Baratheon for a week whilst she had known Jamie for all her life.
You are no Dornish harlot, no Riverlands maid or Northern warrior woman. You are of the Westerlands.
Jaime was daring, he was handsome and dashing. He always complimented her, said more sweeter and more romantic things that a man like Stannis would find impossible to say. So why then?
What are your words?
"Hear me roar." She whispered out.
She was terrified.
She had fallen in love with a stag.