Chapter 9

Even after my many years in this universe, my mental image of a lot of places and things in regards to the A Song of Ice and Fire universe generally defaulted to the show universe but seeing the real thing always reminded me that the show worked on budgets, especially the first season before it had blown up in popularity and the budget went from no, you can only have this much to simply a blank cheque.

Case in point, the Hand's solar we were being marched into was not that rather simple and drab-looking one Sean Bean spent a lot of time in during season one. Here, everything was richly decorated, though mostly in shades of red and gold.

A weird fact that I eventually came around to accepting was rugs tended to be hung against the walls just as often as they were laid out on the floor.

I didn't really understand why and at this point, I was too afraid to ask. Actually, if a rug was hung onto a wall, should I just be calling them tapestries at this point?

Another case was standing before me.

Tywin Lannister. The man, the myth, the legend.

A terrifying foe for many other Westerosi self-inserts. A man with a powerful reputation known throughout the Seven Kingdoms, loved and feared alike.

A man many ascribe to as some Westerosi Machiavelli.

A man who was now warmly smiling at the appearance of his wife and children after dismissing all the guards and servants.

Fucking trippy, I know. It was soft and slight, but I saw it all the same.

Good ROB. Seeing this only made my desire take my waterbending healing further.

Mama Jo's death would shatter this man and turn him into his hateful canon version and I very much did not like his canon self.

By ROB, I wasn't going to let it happen.

He was also smiling at the sight of us all, especially Mother who gave a bright smile of her own. There was an intensity in her eyes that confused me momentarily before in it came to me in sudden realization.

Oh ew.

They were going to try and make Tyrion later, no doubt.

Ew ew ew.

"Father," Jaime spoke respectfully.

I stood beside Jaime but dipped my head in acknowledgment, letting Jaime's greeting cover both of us.

My relationship with Tywin was not very complicated in all honesty. Any child will grow to want and desire the affections of their parent but therein lied the problem.

I was not a child.

Merely an adult in a child's body but even when I was overtaken by particular childish fancies, it didn't mean I would love Tywin Lannister just because he was my birth father.

Creating and maintaining a relationship is a two-way street and my father followed the typical ideals of fatherhood in this era.

Meaning I was mostly left alone until I was old enough to be taught. No doubt some lords took part in the raising of their children but not Tywin. Jaime and I were left to servants, nursemaids, and Joanna along with the rest of the Lannister family.

I like to think that if Tywin wasn't Hand of the King, he would have taken a larger role in our upbringing so far but at times, I honestly wasn't sure. Could swing both ways really.

I could say without a doubt that I loved Mama Jo as my new mama. I could not say anywhere near the same for Tywin Lannister.

If I had to sum up my affection for him, it was that I enjoyed the perks of his existence. I enjoyed his gold, his reputation, his name and all the protection that it brought.

I enjoyed the status.

Did that make me a fucked up person?

Yeah, probably.

I felt my father's gaze sweep over us and I couldn't help but fidget under his assessing eyes. I probably wasn't looking the best after traveling all day and not to mention all that time spent laying about probably meant I had a rather serious case of bedhair.

"You need to see yourself refreshed before your introduction to court today." His gaze sharpened. "You are my children so do not shame yourself in front of the king and court."

"We won't, Father." Jaime replied confidently.

I mean, we were children. Messing up was expected of us.

Tywin must have been a mind reader because his eyes met mine. "Of course, Father," I say hastily.

I wasn't sure what we were supposed to do. Did I have to greet the King?

"Hm." Tywin only said in reply.

He tended to be careful with his words so used them rarely.

"Jaime." My brother stood straighter as he was directly acknowledged. "Your mother informed me you started your martial training early."

"Um, yes…" My brother replied hesitantly, not fully understanding what our father was getting at.

"You're mother has given me her reasons for allowing you to do so." Tywin began. "But I want to hear your reasons directly. Tell me why you defied my wishes." He demanded sternly.

Jaime stiffened up in nervousness before I reached my hand reached out to grasp his which seemed to calm him a bit. Father watched the byplay, giving nothing away.

"I…" He started hesitantly. I watched Jaime's eye dart to me. "I cannot afford to be weak."

Tywin's mouth curled at the word weak. There might have been. Hint of something in his eyes but Tywin Lannister was not an easy man to read. "No, you certainly cannot. You are my son after all and I do not tolerate weakness. But you did not answer my question. Why?"

"I have to be the best," Jaime said simply. "I did not wish to tarry."

Tywin's expression narrowed. "You are withholding something."

Jaime looked guiltily around. "I'm sorry father, but a promise was made and I am no oathbreaker."

Tywin looked about ready to push so I was about to intervene on Jaime's behalf since it was his promise to me after all. Pretty sure knights needed their pinkies.

Thankfully, Mama Jo intervened in my stead. She was sat beside Tywin now and had reached her hand over to clasp his. He turned to her and they only stared into each other's eyes, a whole silent conversation passing between the two.

Truly Mama Jo was something because Tywin broke first and returned his gaze towards his children.

"If this is the path you insist on taking, I will allow it. Tygett will be informed to accelerate your training." Jaime perked up at that. "But, this is by my privilege, and it is a privilege I can choose to revoke at will. This is no excuse to slack in your other lessons. Jaime. You are my son and heir and one day you will rule Casterly Rock and the Westerlands and your sword arm will not aid you there. Instead, you will have tens of thousands of swords to do your bidding."

Jaime slumped slightly. My brother wasn't dumb or anything, he was just a jock and hated anything that didn't have to do with his martial training.

I leaned in and whispered. "Don't worry Jaime. I'll tutor you whenever you need."

Clearly, I wasn't quiet enough because I inadvertently drew Tywin's ire to me instead. "You may need additional tutors of your own, Cersei, from what I hear."

I winced.

"I'm not that bad," I mumbled back defensively.

"You excel in certain tasks like letters and sums, aye, but you seem to utterly fail at others." He barked back at me.

I winced again.

Sums were just basic arithmetic so it was easy and letters were just the Latin alphabet so I already knew them. However I did often get tripped up because it wasn't the modern font that I was accustomed to, but rather the weird swirly pseudo-medieval font people used here. It may have taken some time for me to get used to it but I eventually overcame that problem.

Others though…

I was kinda like an Arya as I detested needlework. It was boring, tedious, and I kept pricking my finger! Thimbles existed but apparently pain is a good motivator for improvement so I was told and thusly denied access to them.

Ugh.

Not to mention things like singing, dancing, courtly manners, etiquette and stuff. There was even religion which I really wasn't into because I doubt ROB was the Seven.

I called Jaime a jock but that was a pot calling the kettle black sorta situation.

"As my daughter, it's unbecoming for you to not be excellent in all things."

Another life, another set of Asian expectations.

"Your mother will tutor you in the womanly arts Cersei. As my children, all eyes will be upon you in King's Landing so I will not have you shaming me in front of all the court."

Perhaps he realized he might have been a bit too harsh because his tone softened with his next words. "Distinguish yourself well enough and you may even catch the eye of the Prince."

Excuse me…? I was six!

He said the words as if it was something I should be excited about. Well, canon Cersei would be but I sure as hack wasn't.

Hell, I wasn't even sure what my sexuality was! Would I have canon Cersei's or would I retain my past life's as a straight male?

I buried my feelings since it was pointless to speculate currently and replied with a wooden smile. "I will endeavor to try Father but is the Prince not twice my age?"

"A betrothal is not a marriage child. Merely an intent." He dismissed my concern.

"I will do as you say Father, but I can make no promises." I wasn't. "Are there not many other fine ladies who wish to do the same?"

"Put no thought to them." He dismissed. "Low rank and lower morality. None as highborn and well-bred as you."

Well bred.

Oh, how I fucking detested how I was being referred to.

I'd almost forgotten this shithole was Westeros.

"It is your duty to stand above them all as queen in time."

Another life, another arranged marriage. I could feel the cloying anxiety and hopelessness from a past life rising.

I crushed it as much as I could. Canon Cersei didn't marry Rhaegar so I doubted it would happen here. And by the time of Robert's Rebellion, I would be powerful enough to defy my Father to his face at will.

And with that same power, no doubt he would accept that trade-off, however reluctantly.

"As you say." I managed to say.

I'm sure it was only a trick of the light that the fires in the wall sconces flared slightly larger.

Mama Jo must've sensed my turbulent feelings under my fake smile because she promptly spoke up.

"Tywin, our children have had a long day. Why don't you two get washed while I speak with your father about matters."

She promptly rang a little bell and a servant reentered to room to escort Jaime and me out.

Even hours later, after being washed and groomed and prettied up, I didn't think I was at one hundred percent. It was just one of those events that soured the rest of the day.

Both Jaime and Lanna understood something went down but Lanna wasn't in the room, dismissed by Tywin temporarily as it were, and Jaime was too young to understand.

I did my best to calm down and focus my mindset. Mama Jo, Jaime, and I were all outside the Great Hall where we were to greet King Aerys. Tailing behind us was a dozen servants all bearing gifts meant for the royal family.

Fine silks and gold gilded daggers, finely woven tapestries, and jeweled jewelry. It was gifts fit for kings.

Jaime squeezed my hand and I returned a smile. The both of us were attired in rich crimson and gold. His was of breeches and a shirt while I was wearing a dress.

I originally found dresses kinda weird when I first started wearing them. I often felt like I was some imposter or weirdo wearing them but it was all perfectly natural for girls to wear dresses.

They were kinda airy.

Hehe.

Swish swish!

The airbender in me approved mightily!

The earthbender categorically did not though. A tad too confining which makes a proper Crowding Bridge stance a bit of a difficult endeavor.

I wasn't sure what unseen signal I missed but Mama Jo straightened up and commanded us to do the same.

The door to the Great Hall opened with nary a creak and I heard a reedy-looking man standing beside the great doors that lead into the throne room bellow with a deep voice that belied his frame. "Presenting Lady Joanna Lannister, Lady of Casterly Rock, and her children. Son and heir to the West, Jaime Lannister and firstborn daughter, Cersei Lannister!"

Showtime.

Again, I was expecting the modesty of the show's version of the throne room but this was not that. It was an enormous cavernous hall that could comfortably host a thousand people easily.

Little viewing galleries were inset into the walls which were occupied but there were easily hundreds of courtiers, lords, and servants who littered the ground floor.

A central path was left open from the great doors to the Iron Throne itself.

The Iron Throne… Well, it was a bit of a monstrosity if I had to say. It wasn't the dinky little chair in the show. Here, it was more akin to a sunken mass of melted and twisted swords with just over a dozen steps that came all together could only be charitably called stairs if I squinted and it all led to a little flat recess which I guess counted as a seat.

Ergonomic chairs, Aegon Targaryen, have you heard of them?

It looked mighty uncomfortable to me but I could not deny its power. Physically, it loomed above the Great Hall as its height easily put its sitter as the highest point in the room. If that wasn't enough, the dais of which the Iron Throne was situated upon was another half dozen further steps.

Hard to believe that this mass of swords loomed metaphorically across the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms.

I could not deny there was a sense of awe here. This thing was forged nearly three hundred years ago by Aegon the Conquerer and Balerion the Black Dread.

I tried to make out Aerys Targaryen upon it but he was still a bit too far.

All around us, people stared as Mama Jo steadily marched us before the looming throne. The piercing stares made me a bit nervous I could admit.

Lowborn and high, Jaime and I were scrutinized by over a hundred set of eyes and I couldn't help but wonder what they saw.

Did they think we were cute children?

Did they see the potential we wielded?

No, if I had to guess, they probably looked at me like Tywin did. No doubt their gaze was shifting between the beauty that was Mama Jo and me and thinking they might want to steal a march on any potential rivals. Tywin did have a point after all. I was higher born than nearly everyone inside this room. The only people whose status was higher in this room all had silver hair.

As the daughter of a Lord Paramount, our place was only but a single step below royalty itself.

Not to mention the handsome dowry I was no doubt worth.

A pretty wife and a rich dowry. That was likely my worth in their eyes along with the Lannister influence I bring to any marriage.

Fuck em.

We were getting closer to the throne and I could start making out the finer details of King Aerys Targaryen, the second of his name.

I wasn't expecting him to be the Mad King just yet with long, disheveled hair and longer uncut nails, but I was still mildly surprised to see him decently well-groomed and dressed in fine blacks and reds.

He straightened up in his seat as we approached, the expression of boredom and apathy shifting into something else.

I wasn't sure what it was but I misliked it.

Finally, we approached the dais of the throne where six men in decorated white enameled armor who each had stark and pure white cloaks flowing behind stood between us and the throne.

When a knight is inducted into the white, they serve only the king so one and all, they lacked heraldry for me to identify them with. Though there was a distinctly dusky-looking man so he was the Martell?

I saw no more as Mama called out in greeting. "Your grace," she said as she kneeled. Jaime and I followed her lead as did all the servants who had trailed behind us.

"Rise, my dear Joanna."

Umm.

I don't think that was customary but etiquette and courtly manners was not a subject I excelled in.

King Aerys spoke it in a voice that some might construe as regal but to me, It felt smarmy.

I'm sure it was nothing.

Following Mama's lead, Jaime and I stood up.

"Your grace, as a testament to the friendship between our houses, we have brought gifts."

"Lady Joanna, your very presence itself is a gift to me."

What the fuck?

I heard the slightest of murmurings ripple across the hall and I tilted my head slightly to catch Mama's expression but she lacked one utterly, with her courtly mask firmly in place.

"I humbly accept your words, Your Grace," Mama replied without missing a beat. "Yet we bring more than just my presence."

With a subtle gesture, the first of the servants approached with a wide box covered with silk. "For good Prince Rhaegar, your son and our future King," Mama announced, pulling aside the silk which covered the weapon. "We present him a sword crafted from the finest smith of the West. With hope, he may never need to pull it."

It was a finely crafted sword with gold inlays and embedded gems. The hilt was of a snarling dragon with a grip wreathed in alternative red and black.

Usable, I think, but likely will be relegated to the vault.

"A princely gift indeed, Joanna. My son shall be pleased."

I was ninety-nine percent sure that Aerys, King he may be, was meant to refer to my mother as Lady Joanna. I shifted my gaze to my Tywin, he had a seat at the foot of the throne but his mask was just as firmly in place as my mother's. I didn't know Tywin enough to read his body language but I think he might have been tense?

"I saw another servant in the livery of House Targaryen approach and take the gift before disappearing into a side entrance.

"For our kind queen, Rhaella Targaryen, House Lannister presents several bolts of Yi-Tish silks along with jewelry wrought by the finest goldsmiths in Westeros. May they glitter as brightly as our Queen."

"My Queen is currently with child but she'll be delighted with your gifts. Though your presence will be as welcoming to her as to me. Do go and visit her. You were once her handmaid, were you not?"

Aerys.

Stop.

TYWIN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DO SOMETHING!

"I had the pleasure of serving as lady-in-waiting to Her Grace and called her a dear friend of mine," Mama Jo responded.

"I remember now. The court was lesser with your return to the Westerlands for your marriage."

I see it now.

Tywin must be a duck.

No, I was giving too little credit to my Father. Tywin had nerves of steel if this is the shit he was silently enduring. Oh, how it must have galled him to be in such a position like his own father.

No, Tytos was a fool and Tywin was smarter. My father could actually differentiate when people were laughing with him rather than at him. This was very much the latter.

Why did he continue to endure this instead of resigning?

Was it the power inherent to his post?

…

Was it me? Was he continuing to labor under this environment in the hopes his leal service would be rewarded with a royal marriage?

ROB, I hope not.

Otherwise, I was going to be a disappointment to yet another set of parents.

"For Your Grace, our wise King Aerys, we gift you a sceptre, a symbol of your wise rule which has seen the Seven Kingdoms flourish."

A pleased expression crossed Aerys' face though whether it was from the gift or the words was unknown to me.

"My wise rule indeed. It is my duty as King to shepherd the Seven Kingdoms into a brighter future."

Tywin must have been gritting his teeth at that.

Aerys must have been extra pleased because he waved away the servant who stepped forward to take the gift away before making his way down the throne and dais to stand mere feet away from us. Delicately, he plucked the sceptre which was almost as tall as he was, and admired it.

On account of all the gold mines the Westerland had, it was no surprise we had the greatest and most experienced goldsmiths in all the Seven Kingdoms. Those goldsmiths took their expertise and applied it to the sceptre with intricate designs carved along its entire heft and topped by a large ruby the size of a fist.

"This pleases me greatly," Aerys finally said, after looking upon it.

"House Lannister is equally pleased by your acceptance of our humble gift," Joanna replied.

Then Aerys approached us.

Mother raised a delicate hand gently into the air, perhaps thinking Aerys would kiss it as custom dictated.

Instead, to the shock of all the court, he laid a gentle courtesy kiss upon Mother's cheek.

Any murmuring's silenced.

Even what little I understood about noble etiquette was this was just not done. Kisses upon a married lady's cheek was reserved for immediate family members, close female friends, and their husband only.

This was him shaming my mother and father, alongside a heaping of insult upon our house.

"Your grace," I gave a greeting curtsy, trying to break the awkward silence that had suddenly filled the room.

His gaze turned towards me and I could see no shame in it, only pure amusement.

"My children, Jaime and Cersei," My mother introduced us woodenly.

"Your grace," Jaime gave a bow in greeting.

As his eyes flicked over us, I could see his lips curl into an expression of distaste. "Ah. Tywin's spawn." He said dismissively as he turned around to ascend the Iron Throne once again.

You know what?

Sandor Clegane had a good point.

With my seismic sense, I felt every step he took upon the dais and on the final step, when he was only stepping onto the next stair with the tip of his foot, I raised my right heel slightly before promptly slamming it back into the ground.

Fuck the King.

The spot upon which he had suddenly stepped onto broke suddenly and the King slipped and tumbled down the stairs.

He rolled the few steps down to the floor as the Kingsguards scrambled to aid their liege.

I thought it would have been funny if not for one thing.

He didn't get back up when he hit the bottom floor.

"Send for Grandmaester Pycelle!" Someone yelled. "His Grace has a headwound!"

Ohhhhh fuck.