Hating Her (Cersei x Daenerys)

Daenerys

As Daenerys Targaryen stepped out onto the balcony of Dragonstone, she noticed that something was different, although she could not quite tell what it was. The gargoyles decorating the castle walls were myriad as ever, but something disrupted their even stoney pattern. Suddenly she realized what had caught her eye: down in the grounds, flashes of color sprinkled the continuous grey, set in a semi-circle with seven spokes.

"Uncle?", she called as she went looking for the old maester in his chambers. In truth, Aemon Targaryen was her great-uncle, but she had gotten used to simply calling him uncle for the shortness of it. After King Robert's and Khal Drogo's deaths, the maester of the Wall had had word sent to her that she was to return to Westeros at last, however not as a conqueror, but to be fostered by him, her last remaining relative. She had disliked the idea at first, especially as it interfered with her plans to gather her strength in Essos and then come to the Seven Kingdoms fully prepared to take what was hers by birthright, with fire and blood if necessary. But the old man knew the words of their House as well as she did, and was eventually able to dissuade her from her mission for the time being, just until she was a woman grown and the tension in the country had settled down a little.

"Uncle, what are statues of the Seven Gods doing down in the courtyard? The Targaryens have never kept any Gods, you told me yourself that only fools believe in some stranger power to redeem them, let alone seven of them. So since when do you follow the Casterly Cunt's latest fashion?" "Young lady, is that any way to speak to your elder? I know well enough what I have said, there is no need to remind me of wisdom I gave to you. But it should interest you to know that Her Grace" - he shot her a sharp look at the mention of the title - "will be marrying into our family, so we had best show a little respect towards her family and culture. Indeed we do not keep any of the Gods beknownst to our Westerosi neighbors, so it should not hurt you to have these statues here. They don't have to mean anything to you, and they don't insult any personal gods of yours, so don't you mind them. Besides, you seemed quick to believe in the horselords' idea of the afterlife when you rode with them."

Dany was quite frankly shocked at the outburst of her otherwise so gentle great-uncle. "I- I'm sorry, uncle. I did not mean to make you so angry, nor did I know how important this matter is to you." It was only then that the other part of Aemon's message got through to her. "What do you mean, marrying into our family? Who is there to marry? We are the only Targaryens left last I checked, and I am a girl, and you are - forgive my manner - too old to marry. So tell me, who could Queen Cersei possibly wish to marry from our bloodline?"

Aemon smiled slyly, although his face also showed apprehension of the message he was about to reveal. "Whether she wishes it, I do not know, but it is neccessary, for both our families. You see, the Queen may no longer be imprisoned by the Faith, yet the accusations against her have not been forgotten. We must weigh foul against foul here and discern the lesser evil. To lie with your brother is arguably a larger crime than to lie with another woman, furthermore this subject is much less persecuted in women than in men, for it is not common in this world for a woman to hold a position of power, let alone two." Slowly and menacingly it dawned on Dany what the maester was suggesting. "As for our family, well, we are a dying breed. We need an heir to continue our name. You cannot bear children, which poses a considerable problem to this quest, however in this special case, as there is no actual man to claim the right to give the child its last name, the one who does not carry the child would prevail. The whole matter is messy and confusing and far from perfect, but it is the best solution we could come up with. The details still need polishing, for example who would anonymously father the child, or how we will sell this relation in its entirety to the public without causing more outrage, yet it is better than not acting at all. You have to understand, this is for the good of everyone, for peace, for the realm."

Daenerys was struck speechless. Aemon's words had been clear as glass, yet she had so many questions that she could not hope for him to have the answer to. Above all though, she felt angry. Her great-uncle had made this choice for her and given her no say in it, and furthermore, he had stolen her chance of the future she dreamed of, of her throne. How could she take it from the Queen if she was married to her? Not to mention the queer arrangement this was in general. She could not recall any king or queen in the history of man having to marry someone of the same gender. Seeing how the public reacted to it when it were lowborn nobodies playing at this, she did not want to know the response a royal marriage of this sort would spark. She realized she had yet to answer to the torrent of information she had just received. "This is madness", she finally managed to press out from between gritted teeth. Aemon only grinned. "Maybe so. Anyhow, it appears to be a family trait."

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Dany hardly felt up to the wedding preparations. She stood by idly while servants were holding countless dresses up to her body, finally creating what they called "a wedding dress fit for a goddess", but she didn't feel like a goddess. After all, gods got to decide about their own fate. Gods were free. Several times Dany had thought about escaping the ceremony, leaving Dragonstone and fleeing from her own family, back to Essos perhaps, or to the north. But to what avail? What would she do? She relied on Aemon as the elder member of her House to pave the way to her throne, as long as he was alive and out in the Seven Kingdoms, despite him being a maester, she could not claim them by herself, and what else would she want to do? This was her mission, her fate. And maybe this wedding would somehow help her achieve her goal, although she could not yet see how.

So she endured the preparations without complaint, but also with an expressive lack of enthusiasm. No one really seemed to care, though. Arranged marriages were far from unusual, after all, and somehow Daenerys doubted all of the people working on the event actually knew about its special circumstances. She still could not imagine how this would take the slightest bit of shame off Cersei's name, even though she found not without surprise that to herself, it did not really make a difference. She had touched women before, when she practiced for Khal Drogo with her handmaids, and on the ship to Astapor, and in her temple in Meereen, and she had liked it well enough those times. Still, the prospect of marrying Cersei of all people filled her with a sort of repulsion. The woman was vile, people said, a monster without emotions nor mercy. Well, two could play that game, Daenerys told herself. She would show this would-be queen who was really in control.