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She shivered, staring with utter dread at the thing lying before her on the study. It was a small letter, recently brought to her by the old Maester. It bore a wax seal, the sigil of Lannister. She recognized this sigil, it belonged to her father's signet ring.
She didn't want to open it, she was fearful for what its contents would be. Would it be cold? Would it be more chastisement? She wasn't willing to open it.
No.
She was a Lannister, she had in her the blood of an ancient line. She refused to be cowed by her father, she was going to become the lioness she was always meant to be.
She prepared a deep breath, her eyes glittering with resolve.
She was a lioness.
She opened it, reading through the contents of the letter.
She read it once.
She read it twice.
Then a third final time.
Her hands shook as she placed the letter on the study, her eyes watering.
Her father and King Robert had gotten into a conflict of interests. The betrothal was still holding, but now it wasn't so certain. If Stannis Baratheon did not approve of her, then it would be over. Tywin sent this letter as a word of warning, if she failed in making Stannis fall for him. He would be extremely disappointed
Yet that wasn't what bothered her, the prospect of failing her father was marginal compared to not being able to remain in the presence of Stannis Baratheon.
That made her loathe herself even more, the fact she was more concerned with no longer being able to be with Stannis instead of fulfilling her duty to House Lannister.
She grabbed the curls of her golden hair, tears dripping into the study and the letter.
Why couldn't Jaime have said those words? Those words that said she was not some helpless maid? That she was indeed of the lion blood?
If Jaime had said those words she wouldn't be sitting here fretting over her fickleness.
Why did it have to be Stannis Baratheon?
No, only Stannis Baratheon could have said those words.
She stared deeply at her hands, her small dainty and beautiful hands. They were not the hands she wanted.
She wanted rough, calloused hands that could hold the sword as deftly as Maester's held the quill. She wanted scarred and toughed hands that could kill a man as easily as one breathes.
She didn't want to be born a woman, subject to the confines of being a woman. She wanted to be able to lash out, to be prideful and arrogant without nary a care. She wanted to be like Jaime, to be a knight who fights and brawls. She didn't want to be a lady whose only thoughts should be of marriage and motherhood.
She softly grabbed her chest, she felt its rhythmic beat.
She thought of Jaime.
The pace of the beating quickened.
She thought of Stannis.
The beating galloped.
Why did she so suddenly fall for Stannis Baratheon? He was everything that she thought she didn't want in a husband.
Course, curt, cold and distant. He was like her father in many respects, he had Tywin's dominating air. Both had an authoritative assuredness that made them men who were capable of doing no wrong.
No, Stannis Baratheon admitted his mistakes.
She thought back to the solar, she remembered Stannis Baratheon bowing slightly as he apologized and offered her a place in his council.
Her cheeks flared.
Her father would have done no such thing.
Even Jaime had not cared much for what she thought, only agreeing to every word she said.
Her eyes widened.
Her father never relented to her.
Her brother always did.
Stannis Baratheon, was none of those things.
She laid her back on the ash chair she sat upon, looking upwards towards the ceiling.
Stannis Baratheon was a good man. An honest man, who never once neglected to point out her flaws, but he did what no other good man did.
He spoke of her virtues as well.
Stannis Baratheon was the only man she knew of whose roughness she felt made him all the gentler. A word of praise from Stannis Baratheon meant something, it wasn't baseless sweet talk.
She had a gentle smile on her lips.
"Cersei Baratheon, I daresay it does have a certain charm to it." She spoke with soft amusement.
She looked back towards her father's letter.
"It shall be done." She spoke to no one but herself.
"For House Lannister and for myself." She repeated with a new found determination.
"The lady's nameday is fast approaching. Do you suppose lord Stannis has something in store?" Cersei was surprised, she had forgotten that her nameday was quickly coming to pass.
It had been but a day when she received the letter from her father, she had spent much of it thinking about how she was going to ensure Stannis Baratheon would not deny the betrothal. It somewhat slipped her mind she was about to reach her nineteenth year.
Leonella Lefford was brushing her golden mane gently, the other handmaidens were waiting by her side.
"Lord Stannis doesn't strike me the sort of man who celebrates namedays." Melessa Crakehall spoke out, her words had a certain truth to them.
"Will the lady be okay? You're so used to such grand spectacles back at home, what happens if it isn't to your liking? Daresay he might have forgotten it all together." Nerissa spoke out, recently she was getting a bit more sociable, especially with the Connington boy.
Shierle remained quiet, it was a queer silence for her face conveyed something else.
"What are you hiding from me?" Cersei asked as she noticed how odd she was being.
Shierle closed her mouth and puffed out her cheeks. She shared glances with the rest of the girls.
She let out a sigh.
"A tourney, they're planning a tourney." At that all the eyes in the room glittered.
"A TOURNEY!?" Leonella spoke excitedly, the fool always had a weakness for such things.
"A tourney?!" Nerissa spoke aghast, terrified at the prospect of being subject to the gazes of men.
"A tourney." Melessa spoke tiredly, no doubt if her father were present he would have pressed her to find a good husband among the knights in attendance.
"A tourney on Dragonstone? How do you know of such a thing?" Shierle shifted her eyes, as if spies were eavesdropping on their lady talks.
"Ser Davos spoke of it, apparently Lord Stannis did not think himself knowledgeable enough to handle such things and delegated the task to him. He told me to tell the lady when I thought most prudent, he didn't think it could remain kept a secret." She spoke a bit embarrassed at already spoiling the surprise.
"I do not recall a jousting field being present here." Dragonstone was a small place. She doubted its suitability for such grand affairs.
"It isn't being held in Dragonstone." This surprised them all.
"Where then?" They all asked in unison.
"It's being hosted by House Celtigar on Claw Isle."
The seat of House Celtigar was different from the environs of Dragonstone. It was less mountainous, with more flatland which made sense in making it the venue from whence her nameday was to be celebrated. The castle that housed the Celtigars was a startling contrast when compared to Dragonstone.
It was not of Valyrian make but of traditional Andal stonework. It's occupants where rich and opulent, their halls adorned with treasures she would have found more fitting in the Westerlands.
The Celtigar's were a house of Valyrian descent, some of their members exhibited the looks common to the Valyrian race. Lord Ardrian Celtigar was not among them, he was an old woodened scab of a man who was ostentatious in his display. He wore a mantle consisting of red garnet crabs that even she found garish and a quilted doublet that was sewed with red and white threads that was paired with trousers made in the color of milky white.
"I welcome you to my seat Lady Cersei. I am honored that mine Lord entrusts me with ensuring your nameday is a memorable one." Celtigar was dull and drab, she couldn't believe a man with such loud fashions could be so plain in personality. Did Stannis ensure such things in his bannermen?
She smiled and curtsied, they had just arrived on the port. Ser Davos, Ser Ilyn Payne and her handmaidens were present with her. Lord Stannis on the other hand was nowhere to be seen.
"The honor is mine Lord Celtigar. I am impressed by the grandeur of your seat." She spoke with practiced courtesy.
Ardrian smiled, at least he didn't share Lord Stannis' aversion to such things.
"I'm elated the Lady speaks so highly of my holdings, I take great care in lording over them." He sounded very satisfied with himself.
It was surprising how much wonders can sweet words produce in men.
"No wonder then did Lord Stannis find you worthy of hosting mine nameday, speaking of which have you met the Lord?" Cersei couldn't help but worry just where Stannis was. Was he even present?
Ardrian gave her a small frown.
"I expected the Lord to be by your side." He looked over towards Lord Davos who shared their confusion.
"Lord Stannis said he had to attend to some duties, but he assured me that he would arrive." Davos said not even sure of himself.
"What about Lord Dayne?" Shierle spoke out, a little bit too concerned for the 'Darkstar'.
"Accompanying him as well I'm afraid, along with Red Ronnet." Ser Davos looked towards Nerissa as he said that name, undoubtedly mindful of how the boy was trying to court her.
Her heart lurched inwardly.
Did Stannis Baratheon not feel her nameday worthy of his time?
The jousting fields were resplendent in their pomposity; she was surprised that there were such a number of knights. She was unsure of the number, but as she sat from the Celtigar pavilion she believed the number to be around five dozen jousters. A big sum for such a small tourney. The proud and colorful pitched tents all flew banners that billowed in the wind, she saw masses of people that were inconceivable in a place such as Dragonstone.
It's splendor almost reminded her of the tourneys in Highgarden and Casterly Rock.
Almost.
She had to admit Ser Davos had done a splendid job in organizing this entire affair. Many knights from many houses were in attendance. She even saw banners from houses from the other realms.
It made her all the more bitter when she received back letters from her father that he was unable to attend, the letter she sent to Jaime had not been answered at all. It was unfair, King's Landing was not so far from this place, why did her father and Jaime not have the time to bother with her nameday?
Her mind drifted to Stannis Baratheon and his conspicuous absence.
He was no better than the two of them.
She had a nasty scowl in her face, one that hid the pain she felt.
The first ceremony was the presentation of arms. Many knights in their full livery trotted across the full length of the field, presenting their arms to Lady Cersei and Lord Celtigar before waving towards the adoring crowd.
Among the arms she saw the houses sworn to Dragonstone.
The flying blue swordfish on silver links on white of House Bar Emmon; the silver sea horse on sea blue of House Velaryon; the seven stars on white of House Sunglass; two griffin's combatant, one white and one red on fields of the contrasting color that belonged to House Connington.
She saw the arms of Ser Ilyn Payne, gold coins in the checks of a checkered purple and white field. He had entered the tourney as well. She couldn't remember the last time the man jousted.
She saw the arms of a yellow tower, aflame on its summit, laid on a black pile on a field of red. It belonged to House Grafton, a house from the Vale. Whilst her kind where simply hours away from here.
A red salmon within a gold tressure belonged to House Mooton of Maidenpool from the Riverlands, their lord was participating in the tourney. Myles Mooton, a former squire to Rhaegar who would have perished, subject to the fury of King Robert if not for the fact the man had accidentally saved the life of Denys Arryn; the current heir to the Vale during the Battle of the Bells.
Speaking of Denys Arryn, he himself was present. Apparently he had received news of the tourney whilst under the hospitality of House Grafton and elected to join them. The gallant flying blue eagle on a white moon on the field of blue served as his arms.
The final major arms of note belonged to a Stormlands house, House Buckler of Bronzegate. Theirs was of three brass buckles lain on a blue field. Ser Davos made mention of a Ser Brus Buckler. A young knight who it seemed was skilled in lance
The next arms consisted of hedge knights and minor knights from houses of little note.
She was incensed, she did not see the stag on yellow among these arms.
Was she wrong?
Was Stannis merely just another liar?
She pushed her emotions inward. She needed to put out a cool façade. She was not going to let this bother her.
Immediately after the ceremonies did the tourney truly begin.
The first on the list of the first round was Lord Myles Mooton against the man he saved, Ser Denys Arryn. Ser Denys was a cocky but valiant figure who had made a show of revealing the favor granted to him by his wife, the niece of Lord Paramount Jon Arryn. Lord Myles Mooton clearly not wanting to be undone took a favor from the nearest maiden he chanced upon.
Melessa Crakehall.
It was a delight to see the normally stoic girl get flustered as the Mooton knight hurried her to give him her favor as to not embarrass himself in front of the crowd.
Denys however all the while loudly heckled his poor counterpart.
"Have you already been outdone Lord Mooton? Already asking the poor maiden to joust in your place?" Cersei was about to answer back when Myles Mooton did it for her.
"Not at all Ser Denys, If I wanted someone able to best you I wouldn't ask aid from such a lovely lady. She would be an opponent a tad bit too much for you to handle." At that there were many snickering's and bouts of laughter.
Ser Denys scowled in annoyance while Melessa just blushed furiously.
Her father would have loved to bear witness to such a sight.
The two knights took their place on the opposite ends of the field.
Ser Denys was garbed in a silver treasure, a plate of pure glittering metal that could have blinded them. His helm fashioned with great wings ready to take flight with a cuirass that had the etchings of feathers on them.
Lord Mooton was garbed in armor that was colored half red and half white. A large salmon's tail jutting from the crown of his helm, and a gorget fashioned with red fish scales.
Both men charged towards each other on majestic barded desteriers. Denys rode aggressively, eyes fixed on while Lord Mooton opted a more defensive stance.
As they neared Denys launched his lance, only to miss his mark whilst Lord Mooton deftly stroke him on the chest. The Arryn heir was immediately unhorsed, groggily getting to his feet after the Salmon knight passed.
His once shining armor now an utter mess.
"God's damn it Mooton this was my favorite plate." The Arryn heir complained.
"Shouldn't have worn it to the tourney." Lord Mooton answered lightheartedly.
"Now it'll be mine alongside your horse." Ser Denys gave him a dark glare.
"You're supposed to let me ransom them back you thrift!" Lord Mooton laughed at the indignation on his friend's face.
The Lord of Maidenpool made another pass towards the pavilion she was seated in, passing back Melessa's favor towards her.
"I thank you my lady." He spoke with a warm tone.
He was a handsome man underneath that visor, he had a strong jaw, with a small nose and a wide face. His eyes were light blue and he had a jagged scar on his lip.
It was no surprise then that Melessa Crakehall found herself too shy to speak out.
"I-It is no trifle my lord." Poor girl, almost choked on her tongue.
The second pair on the list was too little of notice to make mention of, Ser Brus Buckler had easily unhorsed his opponent, some bastard hedge knight from the Crownlands. It was too quick and the bastard hedge knight was left in a ruined state.
She expected the third pair to have been quite the same for Ser Illyn Payne was riding against a hedge knight whose title was "Ser Nameless" it was an apt name for there was nothing remarkable about him or his courser.
The two quiet men did not partake in the banter of the first pair, immediately beginning the first tilt, which was to the favor of Ser Illyn Payne. Cersei couldn't help but cringe at how Ser Illyn absolutely battered her foe with the strike of his lance. It was a miracle the hedge knight remained seated at all. He had arched backwards from the sheer blow.
The second tilt was just like the first. Ser Ilyn Payne would strike out savagely while his opponent simply persevered onward. By then Cersei started to take notice of this Ser Nameless.
He seemed greatly battered but yet remained undaunted.
The third tilt was a shock for a great number of them. Ser Illyn Payne managed to strike him for a third time, but now Ser Nameless had managed to get a hit as well and it took Ser Ilyn by complete surprise, unhorsing him cleanly.
It broth forth massive cheers from the smallfolk in the crowd who were taken in by a mysterious hedge knight defeating such an implacable foe.
Cersei Lannister couldn't help but feel something familiar about this knight.
They had reached the final round in short order.
It was going to be between Lord Myles Mooton and Ser Nameless.
Lord Mooton had unhorsed two particularly strong knights. Ser Gilbart Grafton, the heir to Gulltown; who had previously unhorsed the younger brother of Lord Lucerys Velaryon, Ser Aerion, two to one. Lord Mooton's opponent before Ser Gilbert was a son of Lord Ardrian Celtigar; Ser Criston Celtigar, who had managed to gain the favor of Leonella much to her chagrin as the girl could not stop cooing about it.
Ser Nameless on the other hand was a surprising last contender, he had just barely survived his pairing with Ser Ronald Connington who was a master of the lance, repeating the same tactic he used on Ser Ilyn. Ser Ronald it appeared was surprised by the tenacity of his foe; before Ser Ronald he faced off against several other knights, chief among them was Ser Brus Buckler who had started the first tilt aggressively, managing to land a devastating blow but ending up exposing himself to a lance that unhorsed him. She noticed that strike had taken the wind out of the mystery knight.
When the first tilt of the last round began they expected a long drawn out affair.
Lord Mooton jousting defensively whilst Ser Nameless would try to withstand him. Imagine their collective surprises as they both aggressively charged each other.
In a complete departure of expectations both men had within minutes unhorsed each other within the same moment. Each lying face down on the mud.
Both of their squires went into the field, assisting both men back to their horses.
The squire of Lord Mooton was a spindly looking child with brown hair, whilst the squire of Ser Nameless had garbed himself in a cloak of thick linen.
What an odd looking squire.
Their second tilt was less reckless now, both had returned to their earlier stances in previous tilts. Lord Mooton on the defensive while Ser Nameless would brace for the blow.
Lord Mooton managed to strike at his chest, the mystery knight had missed Lord Mooton with his lance.
Then something spectacular happened.
Ser Nameless managed to strike a second time.
It was almost impossible to bear witness to. The hedge knight had in the manner of two seconds, bring back his lance and thrust it again.
Lord Mooton was immediately unhorsed, whilst Ser Nameless was clinging to the side of his courser's saddle.
It was a victory that brought forth mad cheering among the hysterical crowd.
Ser Nameless did not heed the cheers going his way as he went over to his squire, acquiring another lance. He galloped towards the pavilion, using the lance to lift up the wreath of flowers that he would use to crown his queen of love and beauty.
Lord Ardrian Celtigar and Ser Davos Seaworth did not have time to congratulate him when Ser Nameless foisted the lance towards Cersei Lannister.
All cheers died as soon as everyone grew aware of Ser Nameless' choice.
Cersei's eyes widened as she saw the laurel of blood red roses lofted in front of her by a gnarled lance.
The handmaidens had their hands on their mouths, unbelieving of the gall of such a gesture.
Ser Davos' jaws had dropped, clearly taken back by such a display.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? LADY CERSEI IS BETROTHED TO LORD STANNIS BARATHEON!" Ardrian Celtigar bellowed out with utter fury at the audacity of the knight.
It was like a reenactment of the tournament that lead to Robert's Rebellion.
The mystery knight thrust his lance slightly, allowing the crown to drop unto Cersei's lap.
He threw away his lance, and removed his helm.
Cersei Lannister stared breathless at the man who was staring back at her.
He had blood streaming from his nostrils and mouth, no doubt the price for his commitment to his jousting strategy.
His jaw set to a hard scowl and his face as tight as leather. His dark blue eyes bore into her soul, and his crown of quickly disappearing hair was damp in sweat.
"A pretty crown for a pretty lion." Were the words Stannis Baratheon spoke out to her in haggard breaths.
At that moment her heart raptured.
Now she knew why.
Why she loved Stannis Baratheon.