Winterfell
Cersei Lannister
"You worry too much," Jaime said casually as he lay back on the seat while she paced like a caged lion.
"You heard the little Imp!" Cersei seethed. "They believe that the boy will survive. What if he wakes, what then?"
Cersei gnawed at the knuckle on her ring finger as her eyes landed on Jaime. Her green eyes narrowed at his smirking face. If the Stark boy lives and most importantly remembers what he saw, she knew her children, her twin and herself would be executed by Robert himself. If the late Jon Arryn was able to find out about her and her brother, she wondered how many would follow after him including the boy. She remembered the look yesterday morning that the ghost had given her.
"This is all your fault!" She hissed, stopping her pacing and faced him fully. "You aren't funny!"
"How is this my fault?" Jaime drawled, placing his goblet of wine on the table and he sat up while his green eyes mirrored her narrowed ones. She turned her back to him and bit harshly into her knuckle, drawing blood while she listened to her twin. "I pushed the boy off the ledge to protect us. To protect our children. How is this any of my fault? You were the one who desperately insisted we sneak off to the tower like some love struck fools. Not I."
"And what of the boy's sister? The elder one." Cersei demanded coldly, her eyes ablaze.
"What of her?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"That girl...she knows." She murmured, turning to face him once more. "She knows something about us...I do not know of what but she knows something. She is too dangerous, no good can come of her in the South. I know of the girl...of her supposed prophecies. The girl is insane, nothing about her is...is good."
"I doubt she will come to King's Landing, Cersei. She cares for that younger Stark boy far too much." Her twin brother said reassuringly, raising his eyebrows. "Or will you ask that I push the other young Stark boy from the tower as well, to truly prevent her from coming? As long as you are calm and let nothing slip, we have nothing to worry of, Cersei. This is paranoia."
"I will have her wed," Cersei informed him. "I will have her matched to someone as far from us as possible. I will have her wed into a barbaric mountain tribe if that will keep her away."
She looked at him with a piercing gaze as his chortles and chuckles became loud laughter, causing her to scoff and turn away, stalking towards the window. Cersei looked out into the courtyard with disdain, as she saw the red whore walk around the yard with the wild, feral wolf children. She did not like the fact that her son would marry the little dove, despite her being easy enough to manipulate she did not want to be in relations with the likes of the Stark's.
"Yes, Cersei. I am sure her mother and father will happily accept your proposal," Jaime leered sarcastically.
"The would not deny such an offer from the Queen of Westeros." She sneered, clasping her hands together. "I will have a word with them before we leave."
"And will you tell the King of such news?" Jaime inquired.
She closed her eyes when she heard him move towards her. He placed his hands firmly on her bare shoulders and began to kiss down her neck, she let out a small noise of disgust at the thought of the fat oaf and reopened her eyes and she saw the girl having words with her demon of a little brother, as plots began to form in her mind.
"What he does not know, cannot hurt him," Cersei responded simply.
"You are a fool, Cersei." He replied, pausing as he lay his chin on her shoulder, causing her brows to furrow. "Robert will not let some foreign Lord nor barbarian steal away his Lady Lyanna from him once again. Do you honestly believe this? Lady Lysara Stark may be a red whore but a fool, she is not. Perhaps she will overthrow you? Let her dig her teeth into that fat oaf. I can have you. I can have our children."
Queen you shall be, the old crone's voice taunted as she stared intently down at the mad girl dressed in red, who was making her way back into the castle. Younger and beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear. Cersei threw her head back and let out another scoff, this time, it was louder than before as she pushed Jaime away and made her way over to take a goblet of the horrible Northern wine and downed it quickly, before prowling out of her chambers and down to Lord Stark's study.
Piss on your prophecy, old bitch.
Lysara Stark
Lysara clasped her hands together, pulling her fur cloak closer to her body as she made her way throughout the cold castle. She had woke up from her dreams when dawn broke in utter agony. She had dreamt of Bran and it seemed Bran was dreaming of her. We shared a dream, Lysara thought to herself with a heavy frown. She prayed to R'hllor that night, staring deep into the burning fire for guidance yet all she saw a brown wolf without a head, a caged bird and a cat in a canal. And it did nothing but offer her more confusion. Lysara stilled when she reached her father's study and entered with great hesitation.
"You wished to speak to me, father?" Lysara asked coolly, closing the door swiftly behind her.
"Yes, Lysara." Her father said as she neared him.
As of late, her father looked exhausted. His face was stone with hollowed eyes and a gaunt face. He mourned, like her mother, more than most when it came to Bran. Unable to sleep or eat properly, all he could do was worry about her younger brother. Her father worried for her brother as much as he did for her mother. Her mother had gone mad with grief, darkness consuming her as she looked herself away in Bran's chambers. Her Lord father was leaving for King's Landing soon, no matter if Bran woke or not but one thing prayed on her mind; Those voices I heard...that shadow. If I told a single soul, they would fear me madder than I am.
"He will be alright." Lysara voiced, causing him to look up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Brandon, I mean. I dreamt of him last night."
"You did? What was the dream of?" Her father inquired carefully.
"He is well. As of now, he flies in between two words, this world and the world of dreams." She responded, as she sat across from him and eyed him with great care. "Brandon will wake. I have seen it. Therefore I am not worried about him. As of now, I am worried more for you and mother. Is everything alright? You have not been sleeping as of late."
"How do you know that I haven't been sleeping?" He questioned.
"You pace." She replied simply, with a shrug of her shoulders. "I hear your footsteps echo in my chambers at night."
"Aye. Everything is fine, daughter." Her father said solemnly. "I wished to speak to you in private before we journey South tomorrow."
"Oh!" She exclaimed softly, her eyebrows raising as she feigned mild surprise. I know what this is about father and by the looks of it, you know it too.
"I know you wished for us not to move South, more so than anyone else..." He trailed off, his voice low as he leant forward in his seat. "I do not know what it is you have dreamt of or what it is that you have seen, but I must thank you. You have been strong for your sibling's sake and my own. Though, that is not what I wished to speak to you about...it is about a match-"
"No." Lysara snapped coldly, as she hastily took to her feet. "I will not marry. I gave up the thought of marriage long ago. You know of this."
"Lysara, sit down," Eddard said, his voice stern but still held care. Lysara stilled, stopping in her tracks before she reluctantly made her way to sit down once more. "You may not be a child anymore and you may not like what I am about to say, but I am still your Lord father and you will control that temper of yours in my presence. Is that understood?"
Lysara had hoped for this conversation to end short and swift. Ever since her first bleeding at ten, her mother began to make matches for. Her Lord father and Lady mother had discussed marriage countless of times, but with each offer, she refused, dwelling further and further into the light of the Lord R'hllor. After this, her father and mother had given upon on the idea or so she thought. It had been three years since she was approached with this and now she felt like a trapped wolf in a cave. She could not marry, her religion required for her not to marry. Besides, she wished to leave for Volantis, for the Red Temple once her brother woke. We will meet again, Lysara of Winterfell. The man's voice echoed in her head. You will face me once more.
"Father." Lysara began, her voice impassive. "I do not wish to speak of marriage. I do not wish it."
"I have been patient and willing with your reluctance to marry, far more than most fathers would," Her father said and she couldn't help but agree. "This may sound maddening but your aunt, Lady Lysa, has offered to have you married to Robin. I am growing desperate and running out of suitors for you, some merely turn down the offer with the mere mentioning of your name. Lysara, you cannot possible be utterly unwilling to even talk about the prospect of it?"
"No." She replied, averting her eyes to the furs on the ground and tried to keep her voice from wavering. "Sansa is betrothed to the future King of the Seven Kingdoms, Joffrey. Why should you concern yourself with my betrothal? Robb is eager to have a bride and he is your eldest, why do you not seek a bride out for him, instead? Do not worry for me, father."
"Sansa is your younger sister-" Ned reasoned. "She should not be married before you."
"Sansa shall be wed before me because I refuse to marry." Lysara seethed, bitter tears rising in her eyes. "You have seen what I can do. I do not wish to marry."
"The Queen has offered to match you with a Reach Lord," He replied and the admission caused her to still. Of course, she would. "Lysara, understand this, I would not allow anything bad to happen to you nor your siblings. And I would never allow you to marry any man that I considered unworthy of you. You are my daughter, I want what is best for you. As does your mother."
"Yet you are journeying into the lion's den to become Hand of the King." Lysara spat, looking down at the ground. "You are allowing Sansa to wed Joffrey."
"I do not have a choice." Ned sighed, causing her to look up as tears fell from her eyes.
"You do have a choice." She croaked, her eyes fiercely looking upon her father. "And you made it."
"What has frightened you so, Lysara?" He asked, concern crossing his features. "Never before have I seen you this disturbed. Tell me. Has someone said something to you? Has someone hurt you?"
"I have dreamt of things...many things," Lysara began. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she continued, "Winter is Coming. And it will stay forevermore, father. I have never been more scared in my entire life-" More tears fell from her eyes then but she wiped them harshly away. "They are coming, father. And we cannot do anything to stop it. They will claim the lives of thousands."
"Who will?" Her father demanded but she fell silent once more. "Who will?"
"Old Nan's stories are true," Lysara stated, her voice hollow and empty. "The Others will come and will strike us down."
"You mustn't say such things, Lysara." He said, but she shook her head.
"I speak the truth." She bitterly replied as it instantly dawned on her that he did not believe her. No one ever does.
"Why are you reluctant to marry?" Her father asked. "You have a natural gift with children."
"I have said this countless of times before, I will not marry. My religion is all I need, R'hllor comforts me with his light." Lysara said fiercely. "I am as he made. I have no desire for a babe at my breast or to be some Lord's wife. I will not be known for that. I refuse to be known as that. I will heed the higher voices and go where R'hllor deems that I am needed. I will not be called mother nor wife."
"You speak as if marriage is a death sentence," Ned replied, a frown forming on his normally stoic face. "Your mother and I were matched, and I love her fiercely."
"Your love is a kind rarity." She retorted. "The King and Queen-"
"Lysara." Her father warned, but she ignored his warning.
"Desire is a dangerous thing, but do you wish to know what is even more dangerous? Love. I have read and seen what love had done to this country and I am glad that I will never be in love...minds can be manipulated with the feelings of love and desire, take Rhaegar Targaryen and King Robert-" Lysara pointed out, she watched her father shift uncomfortably in his chair. "They both loved the same woman, Lady Lyanna. They both fought for her and in the end, the three of them died. Metaphorically, in Robert's case. He married Cersei Lannister for the tedious King's Landing politics, you cannot deny that he bears her no love. A blind man could see it."
"They have three children-"
"Robert has many children, it is Cersei who has three children," Lysara informed him. "You know of that. The bastards."
"The Queen is determined to find you a match. You cannot refuse her, Lysara." Her father said gravely. "If you do, I cannot defend you."
"It is the King's decision on who I marry, if she is that determined to find me a match-" Lysara said, a hint of a smirk forming on her face as she rose from her seat. "I am well aware of the King's fondness for me or if I am correct in saying, fondness of looking at me. I doubt he would welcome the fact that I would have to share my bed with another man."