Faramir and Cersei make plans - of several kinds.

Disclaimer: I don't own these two crazy people, only the OC stuff they get up to, and Ellard and Elwing.

He doesn't really do anything, at first, tells Jaime he needs to think about it. He does, truly, but unfortunately Jaime is right – bored, frustrated Cersei is an explicitly dangerous Cersei. The City is keeping her busy, at least mostly, though he makes sure not to give into her too easily with any political decision either. Cersei always needs to think she is in charge and it's her idea, then she gets predictable - at least somewhat. So, if anything, he opposes her a bit firmer, keeps the seal on the money a little bit tighter.

There are a couple of projects he would like to pitch, but they are all rather altruistic in nature - his own father refused them in Gondor, so why should she agree here? It's mostly reforms designed to help the smallfolk, nothing major, but potentially effective. He wants lists for job vacancies, for masters who would take apprentices - until now either organised by the guilds or not at all. He wants a place where poor people can get food, not just private charity, but government-run. And since the project is certainly too big and too ambitious for a kingdom, he wants all of this at least in King's Landing, in Cersei's domain.

"You always say we don't have the money. Why should we help these people?" the woman asks, slightly annoyed.

"Well, firstly because it's decent. But from a more pragmatic point of view, a riot is much more expensive. Healthy people are better workers, which is good for the industry. Less illness leads to more security, for us as well, since less diseases spread. Which reminds me - we urgently need to increase the number of available healers. Especially with the next winter coming there is the chance of coughs, typhus and all of this being dragged in through the gates by visitors who flee from the colder North down here South. We can't afford an epidemic."

"I am not spending money on more administration," she argues, "but we can send a stern reminder to the guilds to keep their list. They may send them in, once every year. We don't have to read them, but it's a threat. I agree with the food distribution. But I want an opportunity for the Lannister family to participate in the charity under our own banner."

He has to grin. Lannister loyalty, all the way through.

"You can have your healers if you find a way to get so many healers. We don't have that many maesters, stupid."

"I'll think of something. Now, what do you want in return? You always want something in return."

She swallows, then grins evilly.

"A place for women who want to leave their husbands."

Faramir is quite certain she expects him to refuse, that she picked it to shock him. So, he nods.

"It's your city, Cersei. And besides, it's a good idea."

The surprise is bright and open on her face, and he revels in it for a moment. Then he exits to let her steam about it.

~ 0 ~

There is peace between the two of them, at least for a while, and at least somewhat, in which they kind of pretend to work together. Others notice and others talk about how she doesn't bite his head off, which always makes her lash out at him even more in the days to come. If anyone ever notices her bitchy behaviour is connected to the rumours, they do not say – after all, Cersei has enough things to be grumpy about, with Robert openly flaunting his wenches now. He doesn't even pretend to be truthful anymore, and people know. People pity the queen, which she probably hates most of all.

Faramir is mostly concerned about rumours in terms of his children, because they are his priority and he always makes sure he has enough time for both, to see how they are doing. Whenever time allows it, he practices with his son himself and finds the boy has every talent that can be found in both the Stark and the Dayne family. He will be a great swordsman, but he is also quite bright, though he doesn't like books the way Faramir does.

Birdy tries to join them, on her little wobbly legs, but of course she can't, to her dismay. Thankfully, there is still that kind and competent nurse who keeps an eye on her, otherwise Faramir wouldn't know how he should manage everything all at once.

Elwing knows nothing about her mother, she has not the least bit of a clue. For her, the world is complete without one, he hopes it can stay like that just a little bit longer. He wants his girl to be happy, as happy as she can possibly be in a cage full of lions.

It's a good time, he thinks, the few months they have together, just like that, almost carefree, even though life is never carefree for him. He has an eye on Cersei, but for now, she seems to stay in line, and he doesn't want to get back on that slippery slope just yet. At least he thinks so. Sometimes, when he catches her eye at one of the official feasts or when he sees the sun playing on her hair during a council meeting, he might also think about other things – but no.

So, all goes well until one fairly warm evening in the Red Keep. The castle has become quiet, with only the occasional sound of footsteps echoing through the halls, but they are far away. Faramir walks through the dimly lit corridors, his thoughts heavy. He has been busy all day and nothing seems to have come of it, he feels frustrated. He is also quite tired, but he won't be able to sleep just now, there is far too much on his mind - so where can he go? The roof, he ponders, because roofs are always far away and fresh and give some perspective. At least he likes to think so, maybe he just likes roofs.

He checks on his children first, both asleep in their respective rooms with servants nearby. Ellard always tries to be brave and calm, but Elwing sometimes wakes up from nightmares and wants to get into Faramir's bed, so he must make sure people know he won't be around for a bit. Of course he has heard the scoffing, that he is coddling his daughter too much, but they can go fuck themselves for all he cares.

"Where will you be?" the guard asks.
"In the garden."
The man nods respectfully. "Of course, my Lord."

The councilman turns around and leaves, only to notice he has just been lying about his destination – and he doesn't even know why. But now, he feels it's a waste of time to go back, after all, he won't be out long anyway. The children will be fine, he tells himself.

He crosses a couple of halls until he reaches a tower, and up up up the stairs he goes. The air starts to change, softer and clearer, he is almost there - as he ascends the final steps, he almost startles. The roof is occupied, apparently he hasn't been the only one with that idea - instead, he sees a figure in the shadow of a chimney gazing out at the dark city. It's Cersei, because of course it is, and because no one else would sit on a grubby roof with that much poise. Well, it's her city, he supposes, she's the queen, so she might as well.

Next to her he can see a bottle and a goblet, a fair upgrade from the stolen wine in their youth. Faramir hesitates for a moment before stepping onto the flat rooftop. Cersei turns as she hears him, surprised at first, but not anymore as she recognized him.

He doesn't ask whether he can join her, though she is his queen - he simply flops down next to her. The curious thing is, she doesn't protest either. Instead, she only moves her goblet to the side.

"You know, I come up here to be alone," she comments dryly.
He shrugs. "After that meeting earlier I needed some air, and it seems you had the same idea."
Cersei nods, her eyes scanning the horizon.
"Yes, quite a waste of time. For once not even your fault."
He snorts. "Oh, thank you, your Grace."
"Don't you snarl at me! You already raged an assault on my peaceful evening!" she complains.
"My excuses." He waits for a heartbeat. "Do you come here often? It doesn't seem like a place for a queen."
"It's my keep. I can do whatever I like. Like sitting on this rooftop with my wine while night falls and hoping nobody finds me. And yes, I come here sometimes. The castle feels so suffocating at times," she bites back.
He hums. "Apparently at different times that I do, usually. Though, truth be told, I haven't really had the time in a couple of months."

He can see she is curious.

"The children?"
"Them too, little menaces."
"They are, aren't they."
She takes another dainty sip. "The boy. Is he yours?"

Well, so apparently this is going to be THAT kind of a night. Faramir looks at her in the light of the slowly rising moon, his expression softening.

"He looks quite like me, doesn't he?"

"And he has purple in his eyes. There were three Stark brothers and one Stark sister and three Daynes with purple eyes at Harrenhal, just like a purple-eyed prince who took your sister away. So, excuse me if I am not that simpering and silly and have a couple of questions. My son will inherit the throne one day, probably rather sooner than later, so ..."

"I never took you for simpering and silly. Don't fret though, he's certainly not half-Targaryen and not a danger to your Joffrey. "
"Had you told me if he were Targaryen?"
"And risk your wrath? No Kitten, certainly not!"
"And yet, here you claim he's not."
"Because he can't be. My sister was pregnant, and her daughter died."

Cersei waits for a moment, because truly, she can't trust him. He wouldn't trust himself. But something seems to give him away and she starts to grin.

"You don't know. You simply don't know if he's yours! Oh, my goodness, that is hilarious."

Faramir gives her a look, which makes her sober slightly, though she still seems far too mirthful.

"There seems to be a pattern of mothers not telling," he bites out, "he's certainly not Ned's son though, just to inform you, before you start any rumours,".
"Yeah, I didn't think so. Therefore, I assume Lord Stark is not happy?"

Faramir takes her goblet and a deep gulp.

"Of course he's not. Though it took you a long time to figure that out."
"Well, maybe I already did. Who knows? I prefer revelling in that secret knowledge, you know?"
"Funny. Though might I say his displeasure is mostly concentrated on Elwing, especially since he has had perfect true-born Sansa in the meantime."
"Why?"

She almost sounds offended, and he notices.

"He suspects Ashara to be Ellard's mother. He knows I wanted to marry her, ultimately. Whereas about Elwing, he can only speculate. And as far as his speculations go, I have seduced some innocent noble virgin in King's Landing."
Cersei takes the goblet from him. "How did he come to that conclusion?"
"Arryn wanted me to look bad, I suppose. But it makes Birdy look rather good. So I never corrected him. Much. Especially not on the nobility part." He rolls his eyes. "Though I suspect Ned assumes her mother is either already married or a septa because otherwise I would have married her."
"Would you?"
He looks at her incredulously. "Marry Birdy's mother? And die in my sleep? No, thank you."

Faramir thinks he can see a faint grin around her lips.

"Is she happy?"
"Who? Birdy?"
"Yes, Elwing. You don't have other daughters, to my knowledge."

He huffs out a laugh.
"I suppose that depends on whether Ellard has time to play. She gets very cross if he doesn't, the demanding little thing. But in general, yes. She loves life."
"You are such a mother hen."
"Well, we both are two parents in one, for different children, though. You try to make up for Robert's lack of presence, I make up for the fact that Elwing's mother can't be a part of her life."

He blames her less than he should, maybe, and she knows because she just nods. Then she sighs, taking a sip of her wine before meeting his gaze.

"It's lonely. Robert... well, you know how things are with him. And Jaime, he's always so busy with his duties. Sometimes, it feels like I'm all alone in this place, with Joffrey, of course."

Faramir scoots back until he can lean against the chimney next to her, a picture of casual indifference and interest all in once - just what he wants to portray. Apparently, they are back on the slippery slope without him even trying, and now it is time to navigate it. Because fighting it, all this attraction - it's too exhausting, and he doesn't have time for that. He reaches out, his hand covering hers.

"You're not alone, Kitten."

She looks down at their hands, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through her. When she looks back up, there are unshed tears in her eyes. Faramir wonders how many are true and how many are faked, what game she is playing. Because truly, she thinks she is starting this, which is just what he wanted. Besides, these big gleaming eyes are beautiful in the moonlight, like pools of starlight.

"How can you say that?"

Faramir's heart aches at the vulnerability in her voice, whether it's true or not. He moves closer, his voice a whisper between the two of them.

"Because I know us."

He does, actually. He knows them both so very well. Their faces are just inches apart now, the unspoken tension threatening to break once again. Jaime was right, he wants her, even though it's stupid, even though he doesn't even know whether he likes her. Cersei's breath hitches, and before he can think, he closes the distance, his lips capturing hers in a desperate kiss. The queen responds instantly, the overflow of feelings pouring into the kiss. His hands find her waist, pulling her closer in the shadows, and Cersei wraps her arms around his neck as good as it's possible in this position. Faramir finds he never wants to stop kissing her, not when she is like that, pliant and demanding all at once, sweet and spicy from the wine. He thinks he hears her sigh, but then they break apart, breathless, foreheads touching. They are both panting, he notices, with very little dignity left.

"I think we've been here once before."
She sounds surprisingly wry. Which is probably fair, given she was pregnant for months afterwards.
"I know. But I can't help it. I can't stay away from you."
Cersei searches his eyes, seeing the truth in them. He might want to play her, but he is certainly not lying. She takes a shaky breath, her resolve crumbling.
"Then don't."
He thinks she might just mean that, too.

Thank you for coming on this crazy trip with me!
I know the way I am posting is not everyone's cup of tea, so I am happy you are reading this anyway.
There is only one longer extra-story coming (promise!) and then we are moving into GOT-territory.