Hating Her (Cersei x Daenerys)

Cersei

Cersei still could not believe this was actually happening. In two days' time, she would marry that Targaryen slut from Dragonstone, and her reign would be constantly threatened henceforth. She could certainly see the advantages this arrangement brought as far as her reputation was concerned, but it seemed as though Daenerys had gotten the better end of the deal. Her House would have died out with her if it weren't for this arrangement, and she was rid of one her largest enemies, whereas to the Lannisters, the Targaryens were hardly a concern anymore. It was as if someone had just handed the throne to her and expected Cersei to be thankful. She ground her teeth together and turned towards her closet to look at the wedding dress again. It was a long, wide gown of snowy white samite slashed with cloth-of-gold at the cinched waist. The sleeves were loose and wide, but the slash collar revealed her shoulders and the tops of her breasts, creating a balanced mixture of modesty and seduction. It was a gorgeous piece, and Cersei would have been looking forward to wearing it, if it hadn't been for the occasion.

Even so, she felt the tiniest bit of excitement when she thought about the wedding. To be sure, she still resented her family for the whole arrangement, but the foreign girl had sparked her interest, much to her own discontent. Her head felt like a jousting match between her pride and her curiosity, and the lances kept battering against the shields to no avail. On one hand, she was intent to learn more about her soon-to-be bride and was even somewhat looking forward to their subliminal clashes delivered through courtesies - because for all the threats it bore, it was also fun to argue with someone on your level (as far as wits were concerned, anyhow), but on the other hand, she despised the girl for her birth, for her claim and for her willpower in realizing that claim. Every part of Cersei seemed to scream at her that she should hate Daenerys, but she found a strange resistance within herself that was rather intrigued than opposed.

The thoughts were too exhausting for her to bear any longer, and so she took to the wine she had saved for the night. It was a strongwine from Dorne, sour but sufficient to her needs. She drank deep and after the first cup, she already felt a little more at ease. But her rest didn't last long. She was on her third cup and dressed for bed by the time somebody knocked on her door. "Come in", she said after a moment of consideration. It was Jaime. "Brother", she exclaimed, surprised. "You have returned already? I thought you wouldn't be back from the Rock for another week." "I finished my business there earlier than expected, and good thing I did." He looked at her grudgingly. "What is this wedding I keep hearing about? Is it true? You're to be married to the Targaryen girl?" She sighed. "You heard right. Father arranged it. He wants to clear our reputation, apparently he hopes the people will forget these rumors of incest over a new, but arguably lesser outrage." "He can't be serious", Jaime shouted, visibly enraged. "How can he possibly think this folly to be helpful?" "Don't be so loud", Cersei hissed. "The walls have ears in the Keep." She was already in a state without her brother's help. "Do you think I'm any more happy with this than you are?" "I don't know, are you?" Cersei couldn't believe his audacity. "What are you saying?", she asked, her voice cold with chagrin. "I am saying that you don't seem to have done anything to stop the wedding; on the contrary, you are taking quite a great part in the planning from what I've been told." "Of course I am", she snapped. "Trying to stop our dear Lord Father's plans would be about as effective as trying to marry a Tyrell to a Martell, and you know that as well as I do. So if I can't prevent this wedding, I may as well do my best to make it bearable."

Her brother seemed content with that answer, or else he just had nothing left to add. Instead, Jaime shifted to another subject. "A marriage must be consummated. Usually, that is followed up by a child, but that should be rather hard to accomplish in your case. So, what will you do? Have another man make one for you?" He didn't say it, but his words rang clear with the suggestion of him being that man. He crossed the room and sat beside Cersei on the bed, trying to slip his hand beneath the seam of her robe across her chest. But she pushed him away gently. "No. You don't understand. All this is to disarm the accusations of incest against us, which were founded on the distinct Lannister looks of our children. What impression do you think it would make if that happened again in this new marriage?" Jaime didn't seem to care much, however. "It doesn't matter", he whispered, leaning up against her and putting his arm over her shoulder. "Let them think whatever they want. It's hardly a secret that the child isn't Daenerys's, is it?" He chuckled. "There are plenty of blond men in this city. Any of them could be the father." Cersei put a hand on his cheek and kissed him, savoring the moment. Then she pulled away and shook her head. "It cannot be", she said, quietly but firmly. She got up off the bed and poured herself another cup of wine. Jaime sat in sullen silence and, after a moment of waiting for her to change her mind, left the room.

Before drifting off to sleep, Cersei realized with confusion how easy denying Jaime had felt. Before, whenever he returned to her after being away for a long time, she had been desperate to feel him again, never wanting him to leave her for evermore. But tonight, she had just felt annoyed by his intruding on her already stirred up emotions, and by his hot-headed lack of reason. She was in no rush to return to his bed, and although she knew she would miss the kisses and embraces and sex sooner rather than later, well, she was to be a woman married soon after all...