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Chapter 14 (Different Stannis)
🕑 Added 2025-06-07 17:58:22 +0000 UTCThird Pov
Cersei Lannister stood before the tall mirror in her chambers, bathed in the warm, golden light that seeped through heavy crimson curtains, casting a glow across her flawless skin, her sight casting a magical allure. At the age of seventeen, she already knew. That her beauty was not just a blessing, it was a weapon, a polished blade she wielded.
Tonight, it would be aimed at Stannis Baratheon.
To the new king.
And if everything went according to plan, her future husband.
Her emerald eyes drifted to the gown draped elegantly over the chaise, a striking image of Lannister red, its golden embroidery flickering like flames in the sunlight. She studied it with a critical eye, her mind weighing its effect.
“Too bold,” she murmured, dismissing a handmaid’s suggestion with a flick of her wrist, already expecting a more modest yet equally captivating choice.
A young servant girl approached, her freckled face trembling with nerves, her hands clutching a modest gown of cream and pearl. Her wide, fawn-like eyes betrayed her fear of Cersei.
“Do you think I’m a septa?” Cersei snapped, her voice laced with disgust. “I am a queen in all but name, and I shall dress as such.”
Her gaze settled on a gown of rich green silk, its colouring a perfect match for her eyes and golden hair.
“That one,” she commanded, pointing decisively. “Now.”
The handmaids moved with practiced speed, none dared be slow in her presence. Soon, the cool silk slid against her skin as they laced her into the gown, the bodice tightening like a second skin, the corset pressing against her ribs until her breath hitched.
An older woman, a court veteran with a grey-streaked braid and a knowing glint in her eyes, knelt to smooth the skirts, her skilful hands a testament to years of service.
Cersei stood motionless, like a doll in their hands, while her mind raced ahead, planning each step of the upcoming meeting. A faint smile of triumph curled her lips. Stannis was famed for his wisdom, which he used not only to amass wealth but also to defeat an army ten times larger than his own. he was also known as a formidable warrior. But he was still just a man, and men often crumbled before her.
"A glance, and I’ll have him begging for my hand," she thought with a smirk. Her father’s voice echoed in her memory: "You will be queen."
Tonight, she would begin to seal that fate, outshining Elia Martell’s frail elegance and Lyanna Stark’s wild beauty. Rhaegar had been blind to her worth, but Stannis would see her for what she was: "a queen in waiting."
The handmaids stepped back, and Cersei turned to the dressing table, where another maid awaited with combs and pins.
“Up,” she commanded, “but let it fall loosely, like a crown.” The girl complied, weaving Cersei’s golden hair into a cascade of curls and pinning the top high to showcase the elegant curve of her neck. A delicate circlet of gold, adorned with emeralds that mirrored her eyes, was placed atop her brow, its sparkle shimmering in the torchlight. Cersei tilted her head, and the mirror reflected not just a girl, but a goddess, a lioness, a queen ready to claim her throne.
"No king can resist this," she thought, her heart pounding with unwavering certainty. "He’ll see a queen and want no other."
The door creaked open, and Genna Lannister entered, wearing a crimson gown with her green eyes sparkling with warmth.
“By the gods, Cersei,” she said, her voice rich with amusement, “You look every inch a queen, my dear. Ready to claim a crown?”
Cersei turned, holding her chin high, a smile playing on her lips. “I’ll have him at my feet by night’s end.”
Genna’s laugh was warm.
“Your father always knew you were bound for greatness.” She gestured toward a nearby chair, but Cersei remained standing, her eyes drawn back to the mirror. She preferred the power she saw there, the power that could defeat any man.
“And if he seeks more than beauty,” Cersei added, her voice firm with resolve, “I’ll show him my mind cuts deeper than any sword, securing my place at his side.”
Genna’s smile softened, her eyes drifting to a cherished memory. “You remind me so much of myself when I was your age, dreaming about what it would be like to be a queen and imagining the princes and princesses I would raise. I truly believe you’ll bring that dream to life. I can’t help but wonder, will they inherit your beautiful golden hair or their father’s dark locks?” She chuckled gently, leaning back with a warm expression.“They’ll be a sight to behold, either way.”
Her aunt's words awakened the memory that Cersei desperately wanted to forget the prophecy of Maggy the Frog: "Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you". She recalled the prophecy, which stated that she would be Queen until a younger, more beautiful woman cast her down and that death would come at the hands of her "little brother," whom she believed to be Tyrion. A shiver ran through her, but she quickly dismissed it.
"A madwoman’s ravings", she told herself, forcing the thought away. "Nothing more."
Straightening, she forced a smile, though it tightened her features. “They’ll be golden,” she said, her voice taut with defiance. “Like me.”
The door swung open, and Jaime Lannister strode in, his golden hair shining, his green eyes, mirrors of Cersei’s own, fixing on her with awe and a deeper, forbidden hunger. He paused, his gaze tracing the emerald gown that clung to her every curve.
“You’re stunning, Cersei,” he breathed, his voice thick with admiration and a trace of longing.
"I know," Cersei replied without looking at him, her tone casual, though a faint smile flickered as she continued to study herself in the mirror.
Genna chuckled. "When Stannis sees her like this, he might run to Tywin himself and beg to marry her on the spot."
Jaime’s smile stiffened, a spark of jealousy flaring in his eyes. He and Cersei were no mere siblings. Their bond surpassed mere siblinghood or twinship, they had once been everything to each other. As children, they had shared beds, secrets, and kisses.
Their mother had once caught them kissing; she moved Jaime's chamber to the other side of Casterly Rock and put a guard outside of Cersei's chamber. She then warned her twins that they must never do such a thing again, or else she would be forced to tell their father. But when their mother died, there had been no one left to keep them apart. Their father's cold indifference and the grief that hollowed out their hearts had pulled them back together. When Tywin became Hand, he took Cersei to King’s Landing, leaving Jaime behind.
At the age of fifteen, Jaime fought the Kingswood Brotherhood, earning knighthood from Ser Arthur Dayne after saving Lord Crakehall. On his way to Casterly Rock, he stopped in King’s Landing, where Cersei, at an inn on Eel Alley, convinced him to join the Kingsguard to avoid a betrothal to Lysa Tully. A night of passion persuaded him, but Tywin’s fury at the appointment led him to resign as Hand, taking Cersei back to Casterly Rock and separating them again. Though they hadn’t been intimate since Jaime’s love for her remained fierce, and watching her prepare for another man twisted a knife in his gut.
Hiding his turmoil, Jaime forced a grin. “Father bid me escort you, Cersei. The king awaits in the godswood.”
Her heart quickened at the thought of a crown within reach, though she hid it behind a haughty nod.
“Then let’s not keep him waiting.” She turned to Genna. “Wish me luck, Aunt.”
Genna’s smile was warm as she kissed Cersei’s cheek. “You won’t need it, girl. Go claim your crown.”
Cersei and Jaime departed, their footsteps echoing through the Red Keep’s huge corridors. They were walking silently before Jaime broke it, smirking. “Nervous, sister?”
Cersei scoffed. “About what?”
Jaime’s grin widened, teasing. “What if he rejects you?”
She laughed, her arrogance ringing clear. “Impossible. I’ll be queen, you’ll become Kingsguard again, and all will be as we planned years ago.”
Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Kingsguard again? Cersei, we can’t—” He stopped, jaw tight. “Stannis, if he finds out, he’ll have our heads.”
Cersei stopped. They were already at the entrance of the godswood. She turned to face him, her voice low but tinged with steel. "Can't?"
She stepped close, her breath warm against his skin, and kissed him fiercely. Jaime stiffened, then melted, years of suppressed longing breaking free. She pulled back, breathless. “No one will know.”
Dazed, Jaime repeated, “No one will know.”
Cersei smiled, knowing full well the influence she wielded over Jaime and how easily he could be persuaded.
"All men think with their cocks". Thought Cersei.
“Wait here,” she told him, fixing her neckline. “I’ll see the king.”
She entered the godswood, heading for the heart tree, which was familiar to Cersei as she had been there many times during her time in King’s Landing when Tywin was Hand. As she drew near, she spotted Stannis, dressed in black with yellow accents, his athletic frame towering over her. "Not as handsome as Jaime’s or Rhaegar’s, but he is good-looking," she noted. His piercing blue eyes met hers.
Cersei curtsied, her voice sweet and innocent. “Your Grace.”
Stannis’s POV
"Seven hells, she’s hot." I thought as Cersei Lannister stood in front of me in her prime, with shiny curls, flawless skin, and a body drawn by the gods themselves. She had an innocent smile, but her striking eyes were watching me like a lion to its prey. "Robert had this woman in his bed and still chased cheap whores? The man was brain-dead."
"Calm yourself. Don’t be fooled by that smile," I warn myself, then offer a slight smile of my own. “Lady Cersei, I’ve been waiting for you.”
Her innocent smile turned provocative, and she stepped closer, her voice honeyed. “I heard you wished to meet me, and here I am.”
"Interesting, how far she and Jaime have already gone?" I thought.
Of course, I am aware of their twisted relationship, which started "War of five kings", but I have no idea when it began or how it evolved. Still, Cersei was the best match for queenship; her father's gold and soldiers would fuel my plans. I didn’t need her love, only her loyalty, and to separate her from Jaime. That might prove impossible.
"In the Worst case, I’ll at least have an excuse to sack and plunder the Casterly Rock," I thought, then smiled thinly.
“Lady Cersei, your father likely told you why I wished to speak. I must decide if you’ll be queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”
Her eyes lit with excitement, her hunger for the crown bare. She steps towards me, her voice smooth as silk.
“Your Grace. I’ve heard of your wisdom, your courage, your skill in battle. It would be a great honour for me to become your wife.” She tilts her head, letting her hair fall seductively over one shoulder.
I stepped closer too, leaving a single pace between us, my voice firm.
“I’ll be plain, Lady Cersei. As queen, I expect you to take your role seriously. At tourneys, feasts, and gatherings, I want to charm the lords and ladies, win their loyalty, and make allies. Do not scorn or slight them with arrogance.”
She paused, considered, then smiled. “A wise request, Your Grace. When my father was Hand, I attended many gatherings, and in Casterly Rock, I won the hearts of his vassals and lords with ease.”
“Next,” I said, my tone steady. “I want you to treat the smallfolk and poor with kindness. Go into King’s Landing, give them food, coin, aid.”
Her eyes flickered with unease, quickly veiled. “In Lannisport, I always aided the needy, and I’d do so here with joy.”
I pictured the Cersei I knew, from my memories, an arrogant, cruel, tending to filthy beggars, and a chuckle escaped me. “I’m sure you will.”
Her smile faltered, puzzled or annoyed by my amusement. My voice turned steel. “And last, most important, you’ll be loyal to me. Adultery must not cross your mind.”
Her smile is replaced by a look that seems to ask how I could even dare to think she'd cheat on me, as if she's the most virtuous girl in the world. “Adultery? Your Grace, such a thought would never enter my heart. Your words wound me.”
“Nor with your brother, either,” I said, dropping the bomb.
Her eyes widen, her mouth parting in shock. “Your Grace, I don’t understand—”
“I’ll be blunt, Lady Cersei,” I cut in, my tone like iron. “I know everything about you and Jaime.” I paused, letting my words sink in. She was shocked. Her eyes glistened, tears forming. She tried to speak, but I pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. “Spare me denials. I’ll still give you a chance to fulfil your dream, to be queen.” Her tearful eyes met mine, shocked. My finger traced her lips, a warning cloaked in softness. “But betray me, and I’ll know. History proves Lannister brides to Baratheons bear black-haired children, without exception. If our children won't have black hair, I’ll know. Even without it, I will know, The Red Keep’s walls have eyes and ears.” My voice grew cold. “And if I learn of treachery, you’ll regret the day you were born.”
I lifted my hand. Cersei stared, frozen, speechless. “I… I…” she stammered.
I smiled mockingly. “Go, Lady Cersei. Think about my words. Tomorrow, tell me if you accept my terms.” I gestured for her to leave.
She bows, trembling. “Your Grace,” she whispers, then flees.
Watching her vanish, shaken and lost, "Maybe I made the biggest mistake in my life, but people say 'who doesn't take risks doesn't drink champagne" I smiled. "Let’s see what happens."
Third-Person POV
Cersei ran out of the godswood, her golden gown dragging behind her like a fading flame. Her face was a mess of tears, her breathing jagged, as she rushed toward her chambers, oblivious to everything around her.
Jaime, leaning near the entrance, spotted her distress and bolted after her.
“Cersei!” he shouted, grabbing her arm to stop her. “What’s wrong? Did he touch you?”
Cersei swiped at her tears, her voice cracking. “He knows about us.”
Jaime’s eyes went wide.
Comments
RebelRob_94
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