Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun

Chapter Sixty-One

The first true day of the tourney dawned bright, the air was warm and held a sweet scent in it. It was as glorious a day of spring as Cersei had ever seen in her life. Cersei had been born in a summer, though it had been a short one and soon enough Winter had come on them again. Half her life had seemed to have been spent in Winter, it had been such a long one after all.

The smallfolk liked to say that a longer summer meant a longer winter, if this day of Spring foretold what the summer was to be like, she hoped the spring passed quickly and the summer stayed for as long as it could. Cersei also hoped that the beautiful day might send her husband into a better mood, since they had arrived at Harrenhal Rhaegar had fallen into a dark and depressing mood, barely even talking to anyone and not even manging to must a smile at the sight of her or for baby Rhaenys.

She had loved him for his pout, for the heaviness in his soul that seemed to weigh down his shoulders as well. It had made something in her want to reach out and take him into her arms, to run her fingers through his hair and to sooth what ever pain he bared on his own, to tell him that he did not have to hold it on his own shoulders anymore. But whatever pain her husband carried, he had no interest in divulging it to her.

It irriated her, when she remembered the earliest days of her marriage, yes at the start Rhaegar had been reserved and melancholy but that was simply who he was and of course he felt badly for that sickly wretch Elia Martell and her savage husband for being parted at his Father's order but Cersei had simply assumed that once they were both gone from the capital that her husband would begin to cheer more.

And he did, to a point. For all that Dragonstone was a dim and fearsome place and her lord husband had seemed to take a a downward turn in his mood, he also seemed more comfortable with talking to her when they were not under the eyes of his mad Father. Many nights, as she sat with him in his solar, he would strum his harp and sing her songs that would by turns make her smile till her cheeks hurt and made her cry till her eyes burned.

And once her belly began to swell with their daughter, often times Rhaegar would come to her and kneel before her and kiss her swollen belly and rested his head against the soft curve of her flesh. He would sing to Rhaenys as she grew and the memories were so sweet, that even thinking of them made Cersei smile. Those days were the happiest of her marriage so far, and she hoped that they would go back to them soon.

But there had been bad days as well, she remebered the night when Lord Sunglass had come to Dragonstone and had spoken to her Lord Husband. She had only found out about it later in the night, one of her maids had a brother who had seen Lord Sunglass's ship dock at the harbour and she had quickly told Cersei about it. Once the night and silence had fallen on the castle and Cersei was ready for bed, her husband came to her.

The Lioness feared nothing, certainly not her own mate at the very least, but that night when Rhaegar had come to her there was something in his mood that had unnerved her totally. He had been distant and cold, he sat in a chair at the corner of their bedchamber and had stared into the flames of the heath and would not respond to her no matter how much she tried to reach him.

That was the worst that she had seen him for a long while, but since they had arrived at Harrenhal his mood had taken more and more turns for the worse. Sometimes he would just sit quietly in their bedchamer and not speak to her, other times he would not come to their chamber at all and when she sent her guards to find out any information on where her husband was and when they came back, all they told her was that the prince did not wish to be disturbed and that her husband command her to get some rest.

And yet for all of that, his mood often flipped on the turn of a coin. Other nights he would come to her, seemingly wanting nothing other than her. He would kiss her deeply and hold her face in his hands, kissing down her neck, her chest, her stomach and then inbetween her thighs where the slight silver scruff of the beard that had grown would cause the tender skin to burn in the most beautiful way imaginable as his tongue ran soothing licks over the folds of her womanhood and sucked on bundle of nerves at the top.

There was still a pleasent ache in between her legs, on the nights when Rhaegar had wanted her he had been insatiable. Often demanding to take her again and again with very little rest and Cersei was not in the mind to refuse him, even if it did tire her so. Perhaps he was simply so insistent that she was with child before too long, concern for the succession of the throne motivating him, though the thought that she herself would not be enough for him to want her as he had stung something deep inside of her.

Whatever his reasons, he had not made any attempt to divulge them to her. She had certainly tried to, waiting till after he had spilled into her and was catching his breath and she had kept her head resting on his chest, glancing up at him and making sure she only had adoration in her eyes when she asked him if there was anything that might have been bothering his, wrapping a lock of silver hair around her finger as she whispered that he could tell her if there was.

Rhaegar had pressed a kiss to the smooth skin of her forehead and held her close and told her that there was nothing she needed to be concerned with, it had made her frown and she had wanted to insist that he speak with her about it but his mood had been so fickle as of late, a single breeze changed his mood and Cersei was so comfortable and warm in his arms that she allowed it to slip away and let herself slip into to sleep as well, but she promised to not forget.

The winds of chance seemed to be what decided if her husband would come to her as of late, if he came to her one night then it was likely that the next night he would not. It irritated her more than any words could say, but she could not command him to come to her which only made her irritation that much worse. On the nights she was alone in her bed chamber, she would pace the room, feeling for everything like a lioness in a cage.

Even Jaime had not been much of a comfort in this, the other half of herself being here with her as he was always meant to be gave her more joy than she could speak in words but he was almost always never with her anymore. Uncle Kevan had taken him from her side and was not letting him out of his side and according to what Jaime had said in the few times that they had been together, Aunt Genna and Kevan had been trying to find any way they could out of this.

Cersei didn't doubt that her uncle would command Jaime to ride hom for the Rock as soon as possible, were it not for the fact that doing so would offend the King. Her uncle, and her Father for that matter, could do as they liked but it made little differnce now. Jaime and her would never be parted again and she would kill anyone who tried too.

It had been a brilliant move on her part, she didn't want her Jaime to marry Lysa Tully just as much as Jaime didn't want to marry the insipid watery eyed little trout bitch, when she had recived Jaime's letter the idea had come into her head almost instantly. Kingsguard, Jaime had always wanted to be a knight. He would point his wooden sword at hares and command them to surrender in the name of the King and he had worshiped the idea of Arthur Dayne like he was the Warrior given form and flesh and thought.

So, the idea of naming Jaime to the kingsguard was perfect in every single way. She would have him always by her side and would have a sword that was only loyal to her around her and her husband and the king at all times. The knights of the kingsguard could not have children, could not hold lands or titles and most importantly could not wed.

So far, no word of Jaime's assention to the Kingsguard had slipped past those who had been the only ones in the hall to bear witness to the king's decision, which had included herself, Jaime, Ser Kevan, the King himself, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Barristan Selmy as well as some serving men who had been in the hall at the time.

Jaime would not speak of it, not after she had asked him not too. Ser Kevan might have told Aunt Genna and sent leters to their Lord Father, but they would not allow word to spread any further than them. The knights of the kingsguard were sworn to silence and the serving men surely must have known what would happen to them if the king suspected that any of them had spoken about one of his decisions.

Cersei couldn't wait for the moment when Jaime would speak the vows and kneel, rising again with the white cloak over his shoulders. And she couldn't wait to see how Lysa Tully would react once she had seen that both Jaime and Casterly Rock had been stolen away, ripped as far from her greedy fingers as they could get.

The thought of that cheered her, and cause a smile to bloom on her face. Jaime was soon to be hers and no one elses and Rhaegar was sure to come out of his mood and be the man she had dreamed of marrying soon enough. All would be well, and Maggy the Frog could burn in the seven hells and spit out as many false prophecies till the end of time.

With her mood much brightened and more ready to face the day to come, she called on her maids to tend to her needs. She sent one down to the kitchens to bring her food so she could break her fast while commanding the other to dress her for the day to come. She was a princess after all, and she needed to look her best.

And look her best, she did indeed.

She had forsworn black and red for the day, while she did love wearing her lord husband's colours, black with her fair skin made her look half a corpse and she would not have any man nor woman harbouring any thoughts that she did not wish for them to have. So, Cersei fell back on to her favourite colour. The gown she was soon garbed in was a deep dark green, so to match her eyes. The sleeves were embroided with golden thread, showing lions and dragons prowling for their next meal.

The corset was studded with emeralds and more emeralds had been woven into her hair, for all her maids were fools at least they knew how to do her hair. A heavy golden necklace with three emeralds set into it was placed around her. Finally, her tiara was placed in her hair. Her maid fetched her a looking glass and Cersei smiled at her reflection. Not even the maid could claim to be more lovely than her.

As one maid carried the looking glass away, the other returned with food for her to break her fast. It was fine fare, and more than she asked for in truth but that made little matter to her. Porridge sweetened with milk and honey and had blueberries floating in it which were so tender that when she placed a mouthful in her mouth and chewed on them, a burst of tart juice flooded her mouth that made it tingle in a way that she delighted in.

Beyond the porridge there were eggs that had been only boiled to the point that yolk was still runny, bacon that had been burned to blackness just how she liked it, trout that had been caught freash just that morning, bread fresh from the oven with more butter and honey as well as honey biscuits, she had asked for lavander but she supposed she could not have everything she wanted. There was also a pitcher of cold milk, mixed with honey that refershed her well.

With her belly soon full, Cersei was ready to face the tourney with her mood considerably brightened. Her maids followed after her as she left the room, their heads bowed in deference as her own head was held high as they made their way through the long stone corridors of Harrenhal.

Ser Barristan and Ser Gerold were standing outside of the apartments that had been given to the king and queen, they nodded to her and Ser Barristan opened the door for her to walk in once he had called out that she was waiting to be allowed to come inside, and the king had replied to that she may.

Rhaegar was waiting for her alongside his Father, he was beautiful every single day of his life but he seemed even more so when he was dressed in a fine black doublet with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen stitched over his breast in fine red thread, fire opals shone on his fingers. He was even beautiful with the dark frown on his face, his own lovely purple eyes having darkened to the point they looked like onyx.

Even the King seemed to have managed to make himself look more splendid than normal, it was hardly much of an improvement but considering how he had been looking for the past year and more, any improvement was noticeable enough to mention. His hair was as long as it had ever been but someone had washed it and taken a comb to it as well, it was a wave of pure smooth silver that flowed down his back.

His beard was also still as long, there was little that could truly be done about it since the King had decreed that no man nor woman could carry a blade in his presence unless they were a Kingsguard, her goodfather feared assassins in every single shadow and every minor crime was high treason and plot to see him brought low. Even so, perfume had been woven through the beard and it had been washed as well.

His clothes had been changed and the stained purple silk robes he had been favouring as of late were replaced with heavy robes of velvet, red and black. Rings of jet and rubes shone at his fingers and he wore his crown on his head and he wore it proudly. And for perhaps the first time since she had come to King's Landing to ready herself for her marriage to Rhaegar, she saw her goodfather eating.

It was meager fare, some bread and honey and porridge but it might have been the most nourshing thing that the King had eaten in days. Aerys Targaryen was nibbiling on some of the bread when she came in, his indigo eyes narrowing slightly at her when she stood before him. The king lowered his hand and placed the slice of bread on a platter in front of him with the rest of the loaf and the jar of honey. "Gooddaughter."

"Your Grace, how splendid you look this morning." Cersei spoke, falling into a curtsey effortlessly. She may have despised the lessons that had been forced on to her in her girlhood, she may have resented that Jaime got to learn how to fight with sword and lance and mace but that didn't mean that she didn't learn her own lessons as well as only a Lannister could. "Are you looking forward to the tourney, your Grace?"

That seemed to have amused the king, though Cersei could not say as to why; who could ever say they understood how a madman thought? The King brought his fingers to his lips and licked the honey off them without a thought. "Oh yes, I should say that I am indeed. Very much looking forward too it. I cannot say that my son is the same, look at him. Sitting there pouting like a sullen little childhood whose nursemaid has just told him that he can not have another applecake. How any maid can stand to be around him at any point is a mystery to me?"

For a moment, her husband's perfectly white teeth were clenched so very hard that Cersei thought that might shatter in fragments like a porcelain vase that had been dropped on to the floor by a clumsy servant. When Rhaegar finally spoke, she noticed that his eyes had darkened so that they more resembled the indigo of his Father rather than the lovely soft violet of his Mother.

"I needed to speak with Mother, it was important Father. I still don't understand why you sent her and Viserys back to the capital." That came as a surprise to Cersei, the King had never seemed to care for the queen or treat her with any gentleness but he also should have known how odd it would look if the Queen wasn't there at his side for the rest of the tourney.

"I do not need to explain myself to you boy, Your Mother is my wife and your brother is my son. I am the King. If I want them both sent back to King's Landing then that's what I will do and I shall not be questioned by you. Do you understand me?" Rhaegar's features quivered for just a moment, barely constrained rage hidden just under the surface she knew but as soon as it was there it was gone and her husband simply gave his Father a tight nod.

Cersei might not care much at all for her goodmother, even less so for that little brat Viserys, the humilation and the rage she had felt when the little bastard had said that he still believed it was Elia Martell and not her that his brother should be marrying still burned in her memory, but she did care for her husband and it was hard to pretend that the way his Father was speaking to him did not infuriate her.

Well, she wouldn't have to pretend for much longer. Aerys Targaryen, Second of his Name, King of the Andals, the First Men and the Rhoynar. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm was not a young man and men older than him that were also stronger had died. He was not long for this world, and those men did not have enemies in every kingdom.

But Cersei Lannister simply smiled sweetly and sat down at the table, pouring herself another cup of milk from one of the flagons on the table and brought it up to her lips. She pursered her lips as the thick and cloying taste filled her mouth, someone had added far too much honey to the drink and it was overly sweet. Still, she finished all of the cup regardless.

They all stayed in silence, aside from the sound of the king chewing at his bread, before a knock came at the door and the voice of Ser Barristan informed them that the tourney was ready to begin. The King smiled then, he showed too much teeth and Cersei's stomach rolled in disgust and a feeling of nausa came down on her and for a moment she wondered if she had too much to eat this morning.

If the King, or her husband, noticed her discomfort than neither of them cared to say anything about it. Rhaegar at least offered her hand so as to help her up before they left the chambers and began to make their way to the tourney grounds.

There was not a single cloud in the sky when they came on to the tourney grounds outside of Harrenhal and the sun was blazing hot above them, so much so in fact that she had to retrive a silk fan from her sleeves in order to stop herself from becoming to heated. She overheard a pair of serving men speaking of how hot it was, how if it was this hot in spring then what would summer be like and how hot it must be in Dorne at the moment.

The King and the royal family had pride of place as could only be expected and was only right, a large wooden platform in the middle of the benches with a large purple velvet awning to give them some shade from the sun. A large ornate chair embedded with gold and jewels with a plump red cushion was King Aerys's seat, two smaller and less grand seats were at the the King's left and right. Rhaegar took the right seat, the place of high honor while Cersei most content herself with the left.

A great deal of of the attending lords and ladies had already taken their places in the benches, it would not do for the King to wait on his subjects after all. A dozen banners fluttered in the wind but Cersei only knew those of the most important of houses. The grey direwolf on white of House Stark, the prancing Stag of House Baratheon, the sun ran through with a spear of House Martell and of course the Lion of House Lannister.

As she glanced around the stands, she caught sight of black eyed, brown skinned, flat chested Elia Martell sitting next to her savage of a husband who seemed to be suffering more than most under the heat of the sun. Two youths, a boy and a girl, who going by their features could only be siblings to Eddard Stark sat to the side of the brother. At the side of Elia Martell was a Dornishman who looked somewhat vaguely familar, it took her a moment to recognise Oberyn Martell.

Sitting close to them was a short man that she did not know, his eyes were as green as moss. Like lillypads, she thought. Cersei turned her gaze away from them to the other side of the royal box. With her red hair, it did not take her long at all to find Lysa Tully and her Father, the younger girl seemed to have felt her gaze on her because she soon turned to look at her and smiled up at her, Cersei smiled back. The feeling of victory was already brewing in her chest and she didn't want a moment of this to be spoiled.

So, she gave Lysa Tully that smile, it would be the last one she ever gave her. Cersei turned her head away after a moment and settled back into her chair, enjoying the beautiful day that would hearld all of her victories coming to bloom.

The six white knights of the Kingsguard took their place in front of the royal box, despite the heat all around them the six sworn brothers all were clad in heavy white plate and white helms with silk white cloaks flowing down from their shoulders. If the truth was to be told she didn't like the idea of Jaime being in white, it wasn't his colour but he wouldn't have to wear it all of the time. Only when he was on duty to the king, then he could come to her dressed in gold and crimson and green.

A heavy silence fell on the crowd as the herald commanded it be so in the name of the King, the only noise that was left to be heard was the sound of footsteps and a quiet mummering that was going through the crown when they realised that something was happening that was not something that happened at most tourneys.

Jaime appeared in front of the royal box, grabbed in a green doublet that matched his eyes and made Cersei realise how truly beautiful he was, and bent his knee in front of the box and kept his head bowed for a moment before he looked up at the King. "Your Grace, I am Ser Jaime of the House Lannister of Casterly Rock. Long has my family counted itself fortunate to be favoured by his grace."

"My own Lord Father once served as your hand, my lady sister is wed to your son and heir and will one day be a queen as fine as Queen Rhaella herself, we have recived many blessings from his grace and our gratitude and loyalty to your know no bounds. It is for all this, that I would beg the honor of serving your Grace in what I believe is the best way that I know how too."

"When word of Ser Harlan Grandison's death reached us at Casterly Rock we were all of us shocked and thrown into deep grief, a nobler knight there has never been and he died in service to his king and his reward no doubt is the finest of the Seven Heavens. But while he enjoys the delights of the gods we are left behind and while his place can never truly be filled, the spot in the sworn brotherhood of the Kingsguard needs to be filled with someone to ensure that his grace never lacks for protection."

"I would his grace my sword and my life, my glories and my honours, I would forsake any claims to lands and titles and trade them for a white cloak to serve your grace." The murmuring that went through the crowd turned into a massive muttering, like a thousand angry hornets had swarmed into the stands. Cersei chose that moment to glance back to Lysa Tully and she could not stop the smile when she saw how her skin had paled, her blue eyes had widened and her shoulders were shaking. Her Lord Father's face had turned as red as his daughter's hair.

Jaime had said the words as he was meant too, the part played beautifully and now it was the King's turn as he stared down at her brother with his dark eyes, tapping his fingers against the armrests of his chair before he spoke again. "Your efforts of valour against the Kingswood Brotherhood is well known Ser Jaime, you squired for one of my own Kingsguard, is that not so Ser Arthur?"

"It is indeed your Grace." Ser Arthur said from below, his voice muffled by his helm but even with it on his head Cersei could still hear the influence of the Rhoynish in his voice. "Ser Jaime served with valour and distinction and a great deal of bravery, he may indeed have the stuff of a great knight."

The King hummed for a moment before he spoke again. "Ser Gerold, you are the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard; it would fall on to you to oversee the initiation of Ser Jaime. What say you?"

Cersei knew it didn't truly matter what Ser Gerold actually thought, the king had already made his decision to include Jaime into the kingsguard. All of this was simply a bit of a show for the lambs, to allow the word of this to spread as quickly as it could through all the Seven Kingdoms. Which worked well for her, let all men and women knew that no one would ever be able to have Jaime.

The White Bull spoke then, his voice was so deep that Cersei almost imagined his helm would be echoing from the inside of it. "The place that Ser Garlan has left needs to be filled your Grace and Ser Jaime is a fine warrior from all that I have seen, and to be sure he is younger than Ser Harlan was. Much younger, there is little chance of him dying in the night."

He had been an old man, a very old man in point of fact. He probably would have died soon anyway even without her putting the sweetsleep in his wine. She would have been glad to let him go on living but she needed a spot open in the kingsguard for the plan to work and Ser Grandison had been the perfect candidate, old men died all of the time.

And Pycelle and the old man's squire was just as guilty as she was, Pycelle had always been her Father's creature and so having a Lannister sword perfectly placed must have seemed to him like a perfect idea and by the time he realised that the Lannister sword was going to be Jaime's, Harlan Grandison was on death's door and naught could be done.

And the squire had almost been willing to be rid of the man, he had been serving the old knight as a squire since he had been a boy and he was near twenty and five now. She wondered if she had paid too much by offering him a knighthood for putting the sweetsleep in his wine but Meryn Trant had done it all perfectly and soon enough he had been left with no master to squire for.

A Lannister always paid her debts and with a few sorrowful words and some well spent tears, Rhaegar Targaryen had knighted the man and that had been the end of it. The man had risen as a knight and he know to keep silent about it all, for he knew that if he spoke even a word then it would be the end of his life but Cersei would be sure to keep an eye on him anyway, she had come too far to let anyone ruin anything now.

"Very well then, I accept your oath of service Ser Jaime. Ser Gerold, see to the incitation if you would." Once the King had finished speaking, Jaime stood to his feet and the white brothers surrounded him like a flock of doves and lead him back to the castle, he would take his vows in the sept before the eyes of the gods and when he returned he would be a knight of the Kingsguard and any hope that Lysa Tully had of stealing what was her would be gone in that entire moment.

A rough sob escaped and everyone watched as Lysa Tully ran running from the stands, her face buried in her hands. Hoster Tully stood, his face was stone and his teeth were clenched tightly to the point that Cersei was sure she could hear them grinding against one another even from where she was sitting, and then followed his daughter out of the stands.

Once the speaking in the stands had died down, it was time for the tourney to start. The lists would take place on the second and third day and the archery competition would take place on the final day. On this first day, it was the day of the melee.

As the fighters arranged themselves on the grounds in front of the stands, Cersei caught sight of Elia Martell leaning over and whispering something into the ear of the girl who was sitting next to Eddard Stark. She frowned in that moment but she gave a nod that was so tight that it might have looked to anyone that the girl was terrified that her head would fall off.

Robert Baratheon strode up to the stands and spoke to the girl, he was a handsome man she had to admit with his thick black hair, clear blue eyes and thick muscles. He was nothing compared to either Jaime or Rhaegar but anyone who found herself wed to him would surely not complain that she was wed to an ugly man.

The young Lord of Storm's End spoke to the young woman and held up his arm, the Stark girl leaned forward and wrapped a scrap of silk around Lord Robert's wrist and the grin he sported afterwards it almost seemed like it was far too large for his face.

The Melee began quickly and ended almost as quickly as well and Robert Baratheon won the day with his warhammer. The final tally of injuries came to four broken arms, two broken legs, over a dozen shattered ribs and a fracture skull. The melee was over so quickly that after a discussion with the master of revels the King decided that the first round of tilts would be brought forward today.

The lords and ladies were allowed a moment to refresh themselves and once they had returned to the stands, the first tilt was about to begin. Cersei frowned as she looked at the two men on their horses armed with their lances, one was Ser Barristan and the other man was a stranger to her when he should not have been. At all. Something was wrong.

Cersei turned to the king and tried her best to smile. "Begging your pardons your Grace, but is Ser Jaime still in the sept taking his vows? I thought he was to be the one riding in the first tilt against Ser Barristan."

The king did not even glance at her as he spoke. "He finished swearing his vows but I have sent him back to the capital, to ensure the safety of my wife and child." He glanced at her there was something in his dark eyes that made Cersei realise that she was on rotten ice, if she said the wrong word now that she would find herself tied to a pyre and be burned to ashes.

And so, Cersei Lannister smiled brightly and settled herself into her chair all the while she was screaming inside as she watched the event carried on as every moment that passed Jaime was getting further and further away from her.

She stopped paying attention, she clapped her hands when all the others clapped and watched with a princess's grace as all the other lords and ladies let out loud and ragged cheers as lances exploded into splinters when they were slammed into shields and breastplates. The tourney stretched on as lesser knights, not even one close to having Jaime's skill was knocked out of the rounds.

The most interesting thing that happened was when a knight in mismatched armour beat three knights in a row and commanded them to teach their squires honour, whatever that meant. The King commanded the knight to unsaddle himself from his horse and take off his helm. The knight with the shield of the laughing tree did not unsaddle himself, he turned and rode off.

The King had shrieked in outrage and commanded that the knight be brought to him, sending knights lead by her husband to find the knight and bring them back. Her husband returned too with the knights with nothing to show but the shield of the knight, apparently they had found it in the godswood hanging off of the branch of a weirwood.

The knight of the laughing tree, as the commons started to call him, became something a legend. The King had become enraged at being so openly defied and commanded that if the knight was brought before him, he would make the man who did so a lord.

By the time all of that was done the day of the tourney was coming to an end and they all made their way back to the castle where a small feast was waiting for all of them. She had no hunger in her, she was still furious about Jaime being sent away from her. She would need to send a raven to King's Landing as soon as possible, once enough time had passed for Jaime to reach to King's Landing. She picked at her pie and sipped at her wine as she waited for enough time to pass she could go without it being seen as strange.

The Stark girl caught her sight again and she seemed pale and her older brother seemed worried about her for some reason, aside from looking pale she also looked like she was in pain and tired as well and her brother could not tempt her to eat at all no matter how he tried too.. What made her more confused, and angry, was that Rhaegar seemed to be watching her as well. She picked herself up once she saw that and stormed off. She wanted to see her daughter.

After an hour spent with Rhaenys, she made her way back to her apartments and found Rhaegar sitting at the table, a goblet of wine in his hands. He looked up at her and sipped at wine. "Fire and Ice."

"What?"

"Would you say you are Ice? I don't think so, you bright and golden. Burning like the son, a lioness of the rock. There is nothing icy about you and there was nothing in that scroll about marriage, only that the children must be from Ice and Fire." Her husband laughed then, it was a rare sound and she had always loved it but this one was different, this one was something cold and bitter. "Prophecy is a fickle bitch, you know?"

"I'm tired Rhaegar, I shall see you in the morning." Cersei walked over to the door that lead to the bedchamber and walked inside, crawling inside her bed and closing her eyes to sleep.

And as she slept, she knew that Rhaegar did not come to her. Her bed was empty when she woke and pushed herself up and had her maids dress her and moved herself out of the room and made her way to the tourney grounds.

She took her place in the stands and watched as the jousting carried on, cheering when her husband took the field as she knew she had too and when he defeated every challenger including all of Lord Whent's daughters brothers who also served as defenders of her title. Soon, Rhaegar won the day and a crown of blue winter roses was placed on the tip of his lance.

That sight was enough to rid her of the bad mood that had plagued her since Jaime had been sent off, but it was nothing compared to it when Rhaegar rode passed her and a gasp went up from the gathered lords and ladies of Westeros, how all the smiles died in that moment. Cersei followed him with her eyes and for a moment, she thought the gods were playing a sick jape on her and he was crowing Elia Martell to be his Queen of Love and Beauty, just as Jaime had done.

But no, it wasn't to Ned Stark's wife that he was offering her crown too. He was offering it to his sister and when she didn't take it, he took the crown from his lance, throw the lance down on the ground and crowned her himself. It was too much in that moment, it was all too much. Cersei jumped up from her chair, her cheeks burning with shame as she marched away.

All the lords and ladies in the Seven Kingdoms, and they had seen how she was shamed. She stormed her way back to the apartments she shared with her husband and marched over to the window, placing her hands on the window ledge.

Her rage was terrible to bare and when something wet and cold hit her hand she wanted to curse the gods seven times over for making her this, for giving her the week and feeble body of a woman and the heart of one as well. But when she brought her hand up to rub away her tears, her hand came away bone dry.

Cersei glanced up at the sky then and she frowned, not understanding anything any more.

It was snowing.

End of Chapter Sixty-One

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review and a follow and a favourite.

Next chapter, well we see how the starks and Robert react to Lyanna being given the crown, obviously Ned's probably going to have a worse reaction since the last time something like this happened...it didn't end.

With lots of love,

DiscordantSymphony