Chapter 30: Royal Wedding: Lannister Dilemma

(1,200 words)

- Cersei Lannister POV -

- Kingslanding - Crownlands - Westeros - 280 A.D -

"Cersei, Jaime... And Tyrion" our father said to us in our assigned area inside Red Keep.

"Father" Jaime and I said. Tyrion was seven years old, and like the fool he was, he didn't even pay attention to father's words. We were both 14 and sitting on a bed.

"As always, you must know that you are lions, and you must act as such. We are not beneath anyone, not even dragons. But you must also understand that there are people with whom even we must be respectful and cautious. Respectful but not fearful, there is a big difference in that" he told us with his natural serious expression, and his dominant aura. Almost as dominant as Percival.

"With whom father?" asked Jaime. And I could only imagine that, apart from royalty, there was no one to give special respect to. But if there were more people to be wary of.

"Well, speaking of respect, the only ones are the royals, but you shouldn't look down on anyone from the rest of the houses, but they should know their position," said my father, but now he became more serious. "And be cautious... The only ones are, Olenna Tyrell, Queen of Thorns. Varys, The Spider, and... Percival Bolton" he said, and my eyes widened with surprise as I rose from my place. Beside me, my brother was clenching his fists tightly.

"Percival Bolton?" I asked aloud. And Tywin gave me a strange look, and began to think of something, for the while opening his eyes in surprise.

"You asked me to give you information about this man a few years ago? He was the winner of the archery tournament.... Good to know that" he commented quietly, but I could hear him.

"Why be wary of him?" I asked again, I was a little nervous about what he was going to tell me. Olenna Tyrell was my father's only true rival in politics, and Varys had a giant spy network, which was what made him dangerous. But... Percival Bolton? Maybe even I underestimated how cool he was for my dad to tell us to be cautious, considering he's only five years older than me.

"Probably not many in Westeros know this. Only those with the biggest spy networks like Varys, the Tyrells and us. But a few years ago he went to Essos, and in less than four years, took control of all of Braavos but the Iron Bank, using methods.... Quite cruel and questionable, although no spy could find out how he really did everything. And it's been two years since we lost all our spies and haven't been able to get any more people in. But last we heard, he was given the title of Lord of Braavos," my father told us, and I flashed a smirk on my face.

He was handsome, cold, ruthless, intelligent, mysterious, and now powerful. He was truly the perfect man, and my dream man. My father noticed my smile, and looked at me with eyes full of suspicion, but didn't comment.

"Cersei" my brother said to me as our father left. He was bringing his face close to mine regardless of Tyrion being at our side. Before my mother's death, we had kissed, but nothing more than that. And when she died, we gave each other a kiss or two, but nothing has happened since I met Percival. We haven't seen much of each other either, since two years ago I came with my father to Kingslanding, which separated me from my brother who also became a squire.

"What is it?" I said with a rather distant expression. It wasn't the coldness I occupy with non-family members. But it was the indifference with which I spoke to Uncle Kevan or Uncle Gerion.

"Why? Why do you like that guy more?" he asked me with a pained expression on his face.

"You don't have to understand Jaime, it just happened" I replied. Besides, I don't know why I like him, I just want to be with him all the time and watch everything he does, all the time.

"I can't accept it!" he shouted, alerting Tyrion who looked at us with surprise on his face, but also frowned a little. Who does he think he is to criticize us! He took our mother!

"You don't even have to understand or accept it. You're my brother, so act like one," I said.

"I'll tell father!" he shouted at me as he too stood up.

"What will you tell him? That you want to marry your own sister and you're jealous of another guy?" I said with a hint of contempt.

"You were just like me until a while ago! Before you met that bastard!"

"Was! And don't you dare treat him like that!" I shouted at him totally pissed off. Tyrion stepped between us trying to calm us down.

"Brothers..." he said in a babyish tone. But that made me more upset than I was about Jaime's tantrums.

"Shut up!" I yelled at him as I pushed him hard and he fell backwards hitting his head.

Hearing in "Crack," both me and Jaime stared at each other, and a tinge of fear was in our eyes.

"Brother?" asked Jaime with a fearful tone as he tried to shake Tyrion a little, but there was no answer.

I fell to my knees and began to cry, as Jaime screamed for help, causing many guards and maids to arrive. Had I... Had I killed my brother?

"What happened!" shouted our father as Grand Maester Pycelle accompanied him. He was the best Maester in The Citadel and The Seven Kingdoms, no wonder he worked in Kings Landing no less.

"H-he... He fell!" I shouted, still on my knees with complicated emotions. On one hand he was my mother's murderer, but he was also part of her legacy being her son and my brother. What would Percival do in this situation?

The Maester bent down and began to check the boy. Touching his whole body carefully while showing different expressions.

"How is he?" asked Tywin after dismissing all the unhelpful staff, or possible spies from other houses. He paced back and forth while wiggling the fingers of his hand nervously. It was the same attitude he had at Tyrion's birth, when our mother died. Did he love Tyrion that much to put him equal to his wife?

"He is not life-threatening," the Grand Maester said, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. "But his spine was damaged, and he may be left in a state of deep sleep if he does not wake naturally for the next few days, so that is the worst situation," he told us, and our sigh turned to tension. Jaime was boiling with rage, though, unbeknownst to me. That rage was directed at Percival, and not at me. I didn't know because if I knew what he was thinking, I would slap him in front of everyone. The mistake was his for getting in the way, and maybe it could have been mine. but not Percival's!

"Best situation?" my brother asked.

"Inability to walk and to sire an heir," he told us, and Tywin's eyes widened in surprise and horror.