They are for Lysa, sweet bright-eyed girl (still child, really) that she is, but Catelyn has always been more pragmatic, head not in the clouds but firmly to earth.
And yet when Brandon Stark dismounts, when he first comes to Riverrun to meet his future bride, he is tall and broad and so handsome that her breath catches in her throat. Oh, she thinks, and she can feel her cheeks heat as Brandon kisses her hand, smiling against her skin.
She knows Lysa will mock her (and rightfully so) later.
Robert likes to make Ned uncomfortable, speaking of his wedding and bedding his sister, the children they will have (all black-haired and strong, he says), the life they will lead. He has no sister to feel so protective of, and besides, it has always been a joy to discomfit Ned, and so easy, too, solemn as he is.
But the truth of the matter is that he is more fond of her than any other lass he has ever seen. Perhaps, he ponders, it is because so many of the maids he beds and whispers promises to fall so willingly in his arms, and Lyanna Stark is no easy maid, she is a challenge. I will win her yet, he tells himself, and yet he hopes she is not so easily won - Robert has always loved the chase, the hunt, the battle.
Some wonder if Lyanna Stark was ever kidnapped at all, or if she went willingly with the silver prince, but they would never ponder so within earsight of the king.
In the truth that only emerges when he is deep in his cups, Robert knows why they wonder so. He remembers a youth too beautiful for this kingdom, otherwordly silver hair and violet eyes, and what maid would not be swayed, be temped by an angel whispering poison in their ear (perhaps even Lyanna, he thinks, and he drinks).
When Robert raised his war hammer he did it not just for Lyanna Stark, but for the kingdom, for the promises the prince had broken. You were beautiful and you were everything, and you were selfish, he whispers in his heart and he brings the hammer down.
She laughs wildly when her father suggests the match, a backup, she thinks (these Starks die too easily and Hoster Tully has set his eye to Winterfell), and she imagines her life, forever playing second fiddle to Catelyn, the Lady of Winterfell.
But the choice comes down to a third (now second) son or a man old enough to have sired her father, and so she weds Benjen Stark with suspicion in her heart (he is no Petyr, she thinks).
He is no Petyr but she finds that he is kind and just and willing to try to love her, and he is no Petyr but all the same, there is no shadow of her sister hanging over her shoulder. His affection is simple, and it is all hers, and that is something new and different.
Perhaps, Lysa thinks when her child quickens, this shall not be terrible after all.
He weds his nephew's - his son's - bride at his father's demand. And why not, he thinks bitterly as he puts the Lannister cloak around her (again, though minus the Baratheon stag marching beside it, it never belonged anyway), it is just the latest in his line of perversion, he supposes.
It is not long after the wedding that he notices something of Cersei around her eyes, a gleam, she plays the part of a unassuming maid but he knows then that there is something more lurking beneath her sweet face. And when he sees it, he suddenly can imagine her at the Rock, ruling as their mother did once, honey to soften the underlying poison for those that displeased her.
Why not, Jaime thinks again, and he is surprised that the thought is less bitter.
YAY I LOVE IT! The sense of resignation is so poignant here, very "Oh well my father always gets what he wants and I hate this but what can I do..." UGH TYWIN AND HIS KIDS.
And I ADORE the comparisons between Cersei and Margaery, and adore even MORE the comparison between Margaery and Joanna. Because TOTALLY SHE WOULD BE A FIERCE LADY OF THE ROCK.
TYWIN AND HIS KIDS, SUCH A MESSED UP DYNAMIC, POOR BBS THEY JUST WANT LOOOOOVE.
I'm coming to the realization that Jaime is my fandom bicycle; I wrote this and was like WHELP OKAY GUESS I SHIP THIS NOW. And Jaime/Cersei, Jaime/Brienne, Jaime/Catelyn, Jaime/Sansa, Jaime/Robb (IN THE SERIES THEY TOTES WANTED TO MAKE OUT), BASICALLY JAIME/ALL THE FIERCE LADIES.
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They are for Lysa, sweet bright-eyed girl (still child, really) that she is, but Catelyn has always been more pragmatic, head not in the clouds but firmly to earth.
And yet when Brandon Stark dismounts, when he first comes to Riverrun to meet his future bride, he is tall and broad and so handsome that her breath catches in her throat. Oh, she thinks, and she can feel her cheeks heat as Brandon kisses her hand, smiling against her skin.
She knows Lysa will mock her (and rightfully so) later.
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But the truth of the matter is that he is more fond of her than any other lass he has ever seen. Perhaps, he ponders, it is because so many of the maids he beds and whispers promises to fall so willingly in his arms, and Lyanna Stark is no easy maid, she is a challenge. I will win her yet, he tells himself, and yet he hopes she is not so easily won - Robert has always loved the chase, the hunt, the battle.
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In the truth that only emerges when he is deep in his cups, Robert knows why they wonder so. He remembers a youth too beautiful for this kingdom, otherwordly silver hair and violet eyes, and what maid would not be swayed, be temped by an angel whispering poison in their ear (perhaps even Lyanna, he thinks, and he drinks).
When Robert raised his war hammer he did it not just for Lyanna Stark, but for the kingdom, for the promises the prince had broken. You were beautiful and you were everything, and you were selfish, he whispers in his heart and he brings the hammer down.
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She laughs wildly when her father suggests the match, a backup, she thinks (these Starks die too easily and Hoster Tully has set his eye to Winterfell), and she imagines her life, forever playing second fiddle to Catelyn, the Lady of Winterfell.
But the choice comes down to a third (now second) son or a man old enough to have sired her father, and so she weds Benjen Stark with suspicion in her heart (he is no Petyr, she thinks).
He is no Petyr but she finds that he is kind and just and willing to try to love her, and he is no Petyr but all the same, there is no shadow of her sister hanging over her shoulder. His affection is simple, and it is all hers, and that is something new and different.
Perhaps, Lysa thinks when her child quickens, this shall not be terrible after all.
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It is not long after the wedding that he notices something of Cersei around her eyes, a gleam, she plays the part of a unassuming maid but he knows then that there is something more lurking beneath her sweet face. And when he sees it, he suddenly can imagine her at the Rock, ruling as their mother did once, honey to soften the underlying poison for those that displeased her.
Why not, Jaime thinks again, and he is surprised that the thought is less bitter.
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And I ADORE the comparisons between Cersei and Margaery, and adore even MORE the comparison between Margaery and Joanna. Because TOTALLY SHE WOULD BE A FIERCE LADY OF THE ROCK.
Gorgeous. You're the best.
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I'm coming to the realization that Jaime is my fandom bicycle; I wrote this and was like WHELP OKAY GUESS I SHIP THIS NOW. And Jaime/Cersei, Jaime/Brienne, Jaime/Catelyn, Jaime/Sansa, Jaime/Robb (IN THE SERIES THEY TOTES WANTED TO MAKE OUT), BASICALLY JAIME/ALL THE FIERCE LADIES.
So glad you likeeeeed!
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