Chapter 9
CERSEI LANNISTER
As the King and his counsellors gathered in the Council Chambers, the Queen rested in the gardens with her family. She had been dreading the upcoming trip to the North, and after Robert had scarred her, she had decided that she would not accompany him to that ghastly place.
He could very well summon the Stark lord here if he so desired to name him his Hand, and yet he planned on riding for days just to visit that cold wasteland. She knew of his reasons. His real reason, and while he may call it all progress, yet she knew more than most how much he cared for the realm.
He had let a traitor sit in his council for years. A traitor who had now emptied out the Crown's coffers and tried to kill his own family. The realm was in chaos, and many had begun questioning their right to the throne, and yet all Robert could think of was that Northern whore.
Lyanna Stark, and sometimes she tried to remember her face, tried to imagine what exactly in her drew Robert to her in such a way that he could not forget about her to this day.
He was the King and had everything one could ask for. Cersei herself was second to none in her beauty and had been hailed as the Jewel of the West at their marriage, and yet he had called out her name.
Lyanna, he had whispered in her ear, making a whore out of her. And just the mention of that name made her blood boil, as she slowly touched the wound on her forehead, and wondered if he would have scarred her like this as well.
"So, you are here," and it was the voice of one of her children which made her turn, and Cersei was enjoying a small respite in the gardens as she tried to recoup her strength after a few tumultuous days.
"Joffrey," she called out, and her eldest walked towards her in his elaborate dress, with his golden hair sliding down and reaching his shoulder. He looked like a young Jaime in that moment, as he walked up to her.
"I have been searching all over the castle for you," he complained, and with Steffon's return, she had not been able to spend time with her eldest. Him and Steffon had not always been on the best of terms, and she had noticed the return of his temper over the last few days as he grew more and more sullen.
"I was resting," she answered as he sat down, with a scoff.
"Good, but I wished to speak to you about something," and she nodded.
"Of course," she smiled, and of all her children, Joffrey had not once inquired about her wound, and he was much unlike Steffon in that regard, for though her second son could have the temper of a lion, he was always the more caring of his children.
He would often entertain Myrcella and Tommen with songs, and tales when he was here, and his absence and two were the perhaps most happy at his return. There had been a few spars as well, especially when Joffrey had killed one of Tommen's kittens, and it had taken Jaime to pull away the twins from one another.
She was not blind to her eldest's faults, but she blamed them on Robert, for the lack of interest he showed in his children. Joffrey was to be his heir, and yet he did not care for him at all.
"I have decided that I will accompany father on his journey to the North," and immediately her head snapped towards him at once.
"I am the Prince, and the realm must see its Pri...'
"NO!" and her voice came out sterner than she had hoped for it to be.
"What?" Joffrey frowned in rage, yet her mind was made.
"NO! You will not be going anywhere," she declared, and with Baelish on the loose looking for revenge, she could not have her children away from her.
"There is a traitor on the loose," and he scoffed.
"None will dare to attack me, and if they do make that mistake, I will have them cut down into pieces," and if it were only that simple.
"You are not going," she declared, and now his face was flushed in rage.
"I do not care what you say. This is my decision," and he was being unusually stubborn over this, so she tried a different way.
"The North is a wasteland, and the Northmen are no different than barbarians. What do you even hope to gain by going there?" and he straightened his neck as he answered.
"I am their Prince, and they should know where their loyalties lie," and why would he even care for such a thing?
"They already know that, my dear. For all their faults, the North is loyal to your father...." and he cut in.
"They need to be loyal to me! ME!" Joffrey countered, making her frown.
"And they will be," she assured him.
"NO!" and he seemed hard set on his decision.
"It is time they set their eyes on the new monarch. I intend to speak to father today myself to tell him of my decision...:
"You will do no such thing," Cersei warned, angrily as she gave her son a glare.
"I have made the decision already, and none of my children will leave this castle until that traitor is caught," and his nostrils flared.
"I am not a coward like my brother. I am not scared of some traitor," but he should be.
"You are not going, Joffrey and that is final," and he roared in frustration.
"Why?" he asked, and now her pain began to simmer in her head once more.
"Because I have said so," and why couldn't he be more understanding?
"It's because of him, isn't it?" he replied through gritted teeth.
"Steffon! Steffon! Steffon! It's always about him," and she shook her head.
"Your brother has nothing to do with this. You are not going to the North by yourself," and as he saw his defeat, he gave her a glare.
"It would have been better if those bandits had killed that bastar..." Joffrey, and the slap came at reflex, and only later did she realise what she had done.
THWACK!
Joffrey held his face as he gave her a glare, and before she could say anything else, he walked away at a blistering pace.
"Joffrey. Joffrey..." but her son was long gone by then, and she did not have the energy to chase after him, as she fell back to the table and rubbed her head, and she had let her frustrations with that Stark woman control her.
She had not meant to hit him, and yet his words had simply been too cruel. Yet still, she should not have done that. She should not have hit him, for in her heart she knew the truth of her son, even if she would never accept it.
Still, she lay there lamenting her actions when Jaime walked into the garden.
"You are still here," and his voice made her open her eyes, and the burden on her shoulders lessened as she saw his face.
"Yes," and he had been the one to bring her here early in the morning.
"What about you? How was the Council Meeting?" and Jaime shrugged.
"Same as always. Robert had little interest in it, and simply delegated away all his duties to his councillors," and that was no different.
"He intends to leave tomorrow," and with only Robert riding to the North, the preparations and the retinue had been cut short quite a bit, allowing him to leave as soon as possible.
"Aren't you happy hearing that?" Jaime asked as he sat down beside her, and she was. It had been some time since the two of them had been together, and with Robert gone, they would have the entire castle to themselves.
"I am," she answered, returning his smile.
"We have never been apart for so long," and Jaime nodded.
"There is no one here right now," and she glanced around, and saw no one in the garden, yet she shook her head in the end.
"Joffrey was just here," and Jaime's smile dimmed at her refusal, as she bent forward and picked up an orange and began to peel away its skin.
"What did he want?"
"He wanted to join Robert on his trip to the North," and that startled him as much as it had her.
"Why would he ever want to go to that wasteland?" and she had been wondering the same question.
"I don't know, but he was quite insistent. In the end, things got quite heated and I..." and she took a deep breath, as regret filled her once more.
"...slapped him," and that caught Jaime by surprise, for everyone knew that she doted on her eldest quite a bit.
"Over this?" Jaime asked, and she shook her head.
"No. Not this, it was what he said about Steffon. He said that he should have died in that attack," and now Jaime had no complaints to utter, as his hands stopped peeling away the skin.
"He probably did not mean anything by it," Jaime defended him, and she hoped that it was true even though a part of her knew that this was just hope.
"But what if he did?" she found herself asking, as Jaime's head snapped towards her.
"Why would he ever want that? They are brothers," he answered, and he did not see what her eyes saw.
"Could you ever have the heart to kill me?" he questioned, and she could never hurt him. Not really, yet she had hurt others for him before, she had killed for him before.
"Never, but they are nothing like us," she answered as she reached for his hand and let its warmth soothe her.
"I pray that they never become like us," and as always, Jaime was not taking this seriously, and she pushed away his hand in frustration.
Seeing her displeasure, he finally realised his mistake.
"Alright, I understand your fears, but they have always been at odds with one another. Maybe Joffrey was just jealous of all the attention being showered upon Steffon, and was angry over that," and she prayed that it was all so simple.
"Maybe," she realised that his words did make some sense.
"I will take him to the yard, have him practise a bit so that he can take out his anger," and she rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"I will never understand men and their fascination with hitting things with swords and lances," and Jaime laughed at her words.
"I remember you being quite eager to do that as well, in our youth," and she had taken quite a few of his lessons in their youth, as she took advantage of their likeness to replace him in his swordplay lessons.
"I was naive then," she countered, but her worries must have shown as Jaime slowly reached for her hand and tried to reassure her worried heart.
"Everything will be fine," he added.
"Soon, Robert will be gone, and we will have all the castle to ourselves. There will be no one to stop us," and that was indeed a tempting offer.
"Where is Steffon?" and her second eldest had not returned with him, even though he had been summoned by Robert to the Council Chambers earlier.
"He is with Tyrion," Jaime answered, and the mention of that monster soured her mood at once.
"What is he doing with him?" she snarled, and if that monster dared to pass on his habits to her son, she would have his head.
"He is going over the ledgers with him. A missive came from Braavos today, and the Iron Bank is much concerned about the money that they are owed. They are sending an envoy to the capital to sort out the matter," and to think that Robert's mistake had left them all so vulnerable that a mere bank had the audacity to question the Iron Throne.
"He is helping Tyrio..."
Yet just as they were talking, a servant ran towards them, and her heart sank as soon as she spotted the panic on his face.
"Your grace. Your grace..."
"What happened?" she asked while she held her breath.
"It is the Princes, your grace. A fight has broken out between them...."
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