𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 | game of thrones [SLOW UPDATES]

chapter one

【𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃】

As much as Isolde loved being a Lannister, she was glad to not have to spend her time within the walls of Casterly Rock anymore. The Princess loved her grandfather more than her own father, however, she was a Princess, and had been raised to love the finer things in life. She did not think fondly back to the years Tywin had decided he would do a better job raising her than her own parents. She loved being in Kings Landing, where she waltzed through the castle walls, and everyone basked in her presence. She could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and everyone applauded her for it. The Princess Isolde was adored across the Kingdom, and that is the way she wanted it.

However, she began to long for the walls of Casterly Rock more with each day she spent trapped in her wheelhouse that dragged her into the barbaric, cold, and desolate North.

Isolde watched the scenery pass by. She grimaced at the dreary skies. The North was shades of blues and greys. There was not a lick of sun, nor a gentle breeze. The harsh air blew past her nose in an unfriendly manner, and she shut the window with a huff.

"This is a dreadful place." She declared to no one in particular.

Her mother hummed in agreement, sitting across from her, cuddling the sleeping Tommen and Myrcella.

Isolde waved herself with her fan, as if she could fan away the northern air from touching her golden skin. She glanced at Cersei. Guilt for her mother churned in her stomach. She resented her father for dragging the entirety of his family to Winterfell. It was an insult to them all, Cersei the most. Her father had brought the family he wished he didn't have into the home of the woman he wished he had one with - Lyanna Stark. A name not even Isolde would dare whisper amongst her mother.

"It will be over soon, at least." Isolde tried to console her.

Cersei raised her eyebrow at her daughter, both knowing that was a lie.

"At least we'll be the prettiest ones there?" She tried again, tilting her head.

Cersei chuckled, cupping her daughter's face, and kissing her on the forehead.

Isolde regrettably prayed that they would arrive soon. She was uncomfortable in the wheelhouse. Her hair was too big for the small ceiling, and so she sat awkwardly hunched in order not to ruin her over the top up-do. She had complained that she should be allowed to ride on one of the horses alongside her brother, so her hair didn't get ruined, but Robert simply told her to change her hair instead. 

Isolde refused. And Cersei did not stop her. The Queen loved her daughter more than anything. If she wanted to be adorned in the finest silks, the shiniest jewels, and the most extravagant hair, far be it from her mother to stop her. She could do what she wanted. She was the Golden Princess, after all.