We all do, Blake but we just have to deal with it it whether we like it or not.
I've been wondering, do the Citadel know about Malora Hightower had actually used magic and they had a policy against magic that they despised and wanted it stamped out?
A Song of Weiss and Fire
- Thread starter Krieg Schnee
- Start date
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Ah yes, the classic divide...
The reformist on the one hand...
... And the revolutionary on the other.
This is the difference between BY carried on into their new lives. Weiss grew up in privilege, but came to recognize it and determined to use it to change it. But that determination ended up with her cast out by the forces of reaction. Meanwhile, while Blake was also in a way privileged, it was only the sort of relative privilege that came from being high up on what was a marginalized and repressed group. Recognizing this early on, she determined that only by participating in a revolt against the established order could she change that. But then as that revolution radicalized, it almost ate her, as revolution is sometimes want to do.
And that led both of them (back) to RWBY. I wonder if that means history is bound to repeat itself, in that respect?
The reformist on the one hand...
... And the revolutionary on the other.
This is the difference between BY carried on into their new lives. Weiss grew up in privilege, but came to recognize it and determined to use it to change it. But that determination ended up with her cast out by the forces of reaction. Meanwhile, while Blake was also in a way privileged, it was only the sort of relative privilege that came from being high up on what was a marginalized and repressed group. Recognizing this early on, she determined that only by participating in a revolt against the established order could she change that. But then as that revolution radicalized, it almost ate her, as revolution is sometimes want to do.
And that led both of them (back) to RWBY. I wonder if that means history is bound to repeat itself, in that respect?
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4-2
Weiss
The Crossroad Inn was just as Weiss had imagined and lived up to the name, in that it was an inn that sat at the crossroads of the Riverroad, Kingsroad, and High Road. It sat just north of the Trident, with the ruby ford close by, where Robert Baratheon had slain Prince Rhaegar in what sounded like an epic confrontation, if the songs were to be believed. Thousands of men had died in this very land over a decade ago, and many more likely die in the far future. It was a sad truth of life, of humanity. Weiss pressed her lips together. Humans always seemed to brew conflict, which allowed the Grimm to grow so powerful back on Remnant. Thankfully, none existed in this world, which would easily fall due to a lack of Dust and Aura.
"Would it not have been better to stay south of the Trident, Lady Weiss? We could have stayed the night in Lord Harroways town." Cedric questioned, attempting to, no doubt raise a valid point, in his mind.
"Perhaps." Weiss kept her gaze forward, looking towards her destination. They had managed to cross the Trident without an issue, at the shallow point where the Kingsroad kept going north. Tomorrow, they would have to retrace their steps to continue onto the Riveroad, which flowed just south of the Trident. "However, I wish to see the inn where King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne once stayed."
"It's just a normal inn." Cedric muttered under his breath, not willing to contradict her that outloud. He had changed into a set of silver chains, along with a Lannister half-helm that covered his hair and eyes. It had been a nameday gift from Weiss a few years ago. Cedric held the Lannister banner high in the air, flanking Weiss' right side. Pod rode to her left upon a smaller mare, wearing a fine doublet in the colors of House Payne, and held Weiss' personal standard.
"A normal inn that has seen the rise and fall of our history." Weiss corrected her sworn sword, shooting him a half-glare. She had changed into a red dress decorated with golden snowflakes, more presentable than her riding trousers and silk shirt. Also, since she was about to greet new people, she needed to look her best. She was representing the Lannisters, after all, and she had to maintain appearances.
While she would have preferred to travel inconspicuously, without drawing too much attention, her Valyrian features weren't easily hidden, as well as the group of almost fifty people that she traveled with, which included a dozen heavily armored men-at-arms on stallions. Even a village idiot would know that she was a noble lady at a glance, coupled with the lions emblazoned across her clothing, and they would recognize her as a Lannister. With the way news and rumors spread in this world, Weiss likely was now being claimed as someone who single-handedly descended from the Heavens on white wings and proceeded to bash her way through the melee reciting scripture. That is, if news of the melee had already started to spread, along with a description of her. Photographs didn't exist here, and commissioning paintings was expensive enough that only rich nobles and merchants would be able to do so.
Cedric shrugged in response to her words, but acquiesced as they continued to approach the Crossroad Inn. It was three stories tall, with several turrets and chimneys made out of white stone. Nearly half a hundred houses made out of the same white stones sat several hundred feet away, along with a small market and a small sept that towered over the homes. Even with the mild traffic at the crossroads, it looked painfully boring. Not boring, idyllic. It looked like it came right out of one of her childhood stories.
Weiss urged her horse onward towards the Inn, with Cedric, Pod and the rest following closely behind. A few smallfolk children were playing on the muddy road, but were quickly pulled to the side by their parents or friends once the Lannister banners were spotted and the sounds of their horses filled the air. A minor Lady from the Westerlands she may be, but she was still a noble, even in the Riverlands. Add in the Lannister reputation for taking no offense without retaliation, and nobody wanted to take any chances. The Riverlands had been fought over anytime a war kicked off, so the smallfolk had learned to be cautious around strange nobles. Today's visitor might return the next day and sack the village, after all.
Thankfully, Weiss wasn't that cruel, but that didn't mean the smallfolk knew her character. For all they knew, she was a spoiled Lannister girl on a simple road trip and, well, their reputation spoke for itself. They approached the Crossroad Inn without any issues, though Weiss' white hair earned her more than a few stares and murmurs. Valyrian features were rare outside the Crownlands and Essos.
Weiss pressed her lips into a thin line as her sapphire eyes scanned the rather plain inn, and then turned to the crossroad itself, which had little traffic today. That was boring, she was hoping to have seen other traveling nobles from the other kingdoms, ideally from the North. Her original plan had centered around finding a Northern lord or merchant that had traveled this far south, and hopefully question them about the children of Lord Eddard Stark.
"How disappointing." Weiss mumbled under her breath, before letting out a slow exhalation. Hopefully there were some Northerners within the Inn itself, or maybe she could find one before they departed in the morning. From here her party would ride back across the Trident, and take the Riverroad to Riverrun, the seat of House Tully who ruled the Riverlands since the time of Aegon the Conqueror.
"Will my Lady give Podrick and I leave to explore the ruby ford once we have settled in?" Cedric asked, his voice smug at being proved correct for once.
"Silly Cedric." Weiss shot him a soft glare. "The smallfolk must've picked Rhaegar's rubies clean by now, or they would've been washed downstream." Not that she could blame him, mind. It was worth a shot at least, if only for bragging rights.
There was only one ruby that was needed in this life.
Brienne
Dragonstone seemed gloomier than usual without the presence of its heir, though it seemed to brighten with the arrival of Lady Shireen. Yet, even with the presence of Lord Stannis' second daughter, Dragonstone could never compare with Tarth. Tarth was beautiful, unlike Brienne, oddly humorous to her, that her home and future domain would be lovely, whereas she was not. The Sapphire Isle was covered in gorgeous lakes, soaring mountains, high meadows and shadowed vales. Dragonstone, on the other hand, had a tragic sense of beauty that appealed to her, oddly enough. A dark architecture that, for some inexplicable reason, drew her in. Black stone made up the castle itself, with dragons carvings and statues decorating the ancient walls and halls. And when a storm blew up, the place would shine in the rain, water glistening off the blackened stone. The fog only seemed to enhance its dangerous beauty, shrouding the castle in an air of mystery.
Brienne quickly took a backstep, raising her shield to block a slash a few seconds too late, the blunted steel hitting the side of her arm hard. Shaking her head and ignoring the pain, she pushed forward, attempting to bash the shield onto Ser Waymar's handsome face, which was twisted into a grin at finally landing a blow on her. She towered over the Vale Knight, a not uncommon occurrence, and she used that to her advantage. Swinging her mace hard onto his own shield, he was shoved backwards, sliding a bit on the sand of the training ring. He winced behind his half-helm, but adjusted his footing to bring his blunted sword around, which Brienne blocked with her shield once more. The two slowly backed off, their weapons at the ready position.
"Were you there when the Lannister girl fought?" Brienne asked suddenly, seeking to distract Waymar. She had passed on Blake's offer to join her in King's Landing, no, there were too many people, most of which would no doubt laugh in her face or whisper behind her back. Even on Dragonstone, when Lord Stannis wasn't present, Brienne heard the whispers that the other knights and men-at-arms spread, calling her 'Brienne the Beauty'. Admittedly, that number was dropping a tad, being beaten into a sparring ring did encourage one to watch their tongue.
"Aye, when she faced my Father and the Red Priest." Ser Waymar answered while still keeping his eyes on her. He was the youngest son of Lord Yohn Royce, and a decent swordsman. "I was escorting Lady Shireen through the tents with the Onion Knight, so I didn't see how she fared earlier."
Brienne struck first, charging at him with her mace high in the air, only for the smaller Royce to sidestep out of the way, as if he was in a waltz. He counted with a slash that Brienne knocked out of the way with the head of her mace and the two of them sprang back once more. She had only heard rumors and whispers from King's Landing, all about a Lannister girl who had defeated some of the realm's finest warriors, and named Blake the 'Princess of Love and Beauty' with a display of magic.
"Was she as skilled as they say?" Brienne continued. Blake's letters left out much, only that she had to remain in King's Landing for a while longer, and she never mentioned the Lannister girl. Was that out of fear of them being intercepted, or something else?
"Better." Ser Waymar's eyes danced darkly. "My Father's not an unskilled squire, and Thoros of Myr has won many melees, yet she defeated them one and the same." He lunged forward, his blunted sword scraping against Brienne's shield. The move was sloppy, and easily predicted.
"She broke my Father's shield with her sword, like that of a Braovosi, shattering wood and snapping the strips of iron like they were bread." Ser Waymar continued while he maneuvered around the ring, trying to flank her. "Unnatural, like the magic she used to form stairs made out of seven-pointed snowflakes."
Brienne tried another shield bash, just for the thinner knight to avoid it once more. She had grown used to magic, sharing the same table with Malora Hightower and the Red Woman would do that to anyone. "And then she named Lady Blake as the 'Princess of Love and Beauty."
"Aye." Ser Waymar smirked as he went back on the offensive, with three quick strikes that forced Brienne behind her shield and drove her back a step. She pressed her thin lips tightly. Why would the Lannister girl name Blake, and not the Queen? Or any other lady present? Was there something else at play?
Suddenly, Brienne found her opening as Ser Waymar overextended himself, and slid her body to the left, using her shield to block his blade and slammed her mace into his exposed shoulder. A bruise for a bruise. So far, Ser Waymar had proven to be one of the tougher foes, making her work for any injury she would inflict on him.
Ser Waymar grunted as their dance came to an end. He removed his half-helm, allowing his long black hair to fall freely, which framed his young and clean-shaven face. "The Lannister could beat both of us, she's as skilled as the Kingslayer."
Brienne removed her own helm, revealing her short cropped blonde hair, and frowned. Blake was the best fighter she knew, Brienne had never won in any of their spars. If this Lannister girl truly lived up to the rumors, then she was dangerous. The future Evenstar did not know much about Lannisters personally, relying on rumors and what she had heard from others, but she knew that the Royal Court was full of them due to the Queen's influence. However, she also knew that they were cruel and ruthless, extinguishing Houses Reyne and Tarbeck before her Father was even born. In the end, it wouldn't matter. White Lioness or Kingslayer, if it ever came to blows, then Lady Blake Baratheon would come out the victor. She was the most skilled warrior Brienne had ever met, and more than worthy of her loyalty.
"Very good." Another voice interrupted them, sultry and foreign. The two looked up from the training yard, their eyes drifting to the battlements, where a woman in red watched them.
Melisandre, the Red Priestess, gave them a small and subtle smirk. With a low-cut, red dress that left her shoulders and cleavage exposed, the Red Woman looked like an other-worldly being. If Blake was an elegant beauty, then this woman had the look of a seductress, with her hair as red as copper. Red was a common theme to her, it seemed, all her clothes were in some form of red, her eyes were an unsettling red, yet her skin was as pale as the snow in winter.
"Our Prince shall need such skilled warriors in the war to come." She said, the red-gold choker with a ruby around her long neck shining softly when the clouds parted, briefly revealing the sun. "Loyal warriors at that." The Red PriestessWoman sauntered away without another word as the two stared at her back. She disappeared into a crowd of servants and knights scurrying about.
Brienne allowed her sword-arm to fall to her side gently, her hand gripping the mace tightly. She was prone to that, show up, say some relatively enigmatic phrase, and depart. The fact that she was foretelling war was a matter of debate among the knights. Some argued it was proof she could see the future in her fires. Others retorted by pointing out even Patchface could say something ominous, and in fact seemed to say nothing but dark tidings.
Brienne didn't trust the Red Woman, not one bit.
A/N
We'll be slowing done on updates to let the chapters breathe, and to tease the start of the war.
Ownnnnnn, WhiteRose for the win lads!
oof.
Grey Rook
Genuine Nerd
- Location
- The Quantum Foam
My immediate thought is to wonder if Melisandre is secretly Cinder. Also to think that Weiss' pining for Ruby might have caused her to fall in love with her memory, which is likely to end in tears once they meet and Weiss is reminded of what Ruby is actually like. Not very familiar with ASOIAF, so can't comment on the rest.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Her outfit does bring it to mind, but the hair and eye color don't quite match. Unless she's wearing contacts and using hair dye.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I mean, you're operating under the assumption Mel's hair and eye color is normal.
Honestly, I have some doubts.
Yeah, because if Melisandre is really Cinder, she wouldn't bother with all these Lord of Light nonsense. All she cares about is power and wanted to be on top of the Pecking Order.
Plus she would have tried to kill Blake Baratheon after recognizing her as one of Ruby's friends who always get in her way, which would earn the wrath of Stannis the Mannis and no amount of whatever magic she scraped would save her from him.
4-3
Weiss
The Crossroad Inn was owned by a plump woman named Marsha Heddle. She was kind, and had red teeth stained from years of chewing on sourleaf. Apparently, her family had owned the Crossroad Inn since before the start of the First Blackfyre Rebellion, when Jon Rivers the Bittersteel attempted to crown Daemon Blackfyre as king over the Seven Kingdoms. Weiss frowned as she took a small sip of wine, her sapphire eyes glancing around the other occupants of the Crossroad Inn's dining room. She didn't recognize any Northern sigils, which was a shame. Instead, she saw a variety of sigils from all over Westeros. Obviously some Riverlanders, a couple of Crownlanders trying to avoid drawing attention, some Stormlanders, and even a house from the Vale were present. Yet she saw no Northern houses represented among their ranks. Maybe they had hidden their sigils? Or they were merchants without a House symbol? Normally merchants proudly advertised their Kingdom of origin, but she was used to more Southern houses, not what the Northern merchants would prefer.
Sighing, she lowered her goblet, and started looking at the customers who didn't have visible house sigils. A pair of Dragonseed sellswords stood at the bar, talking with someone from the Vale house, gesturing at a map. Obviously not Northerners, so she moved on from them. Cedric moved to sit beside her, nursing a goblet of ale. He did a double take at the sellswords, seeming to recognize them from somewhere, before looking at her once more, though she wished Blake had been able to join her on this short journey.
"What new's have you heard from King's Landing?" Weiss asked Cedric. After everyone broke their fast they would be on the move once more, down to Lord Harroway's town and then onto Riverrun, and finally, Lannisport. It would be nice to return home, once more.
"The Lord Hand is dead." Cedric said in a low voice. Even this early in the morning, a musician was playing his lyre and men japed with their companions loudly. "His Lady Wife fled the Red Keep in the night not even a week later with her household and most of the lords of the Vale, claiming that the Lord Hand had been murdered."
It had been two weeks since Weiss left King's Landing, which meant it would take another week or more for Lysa Arryn to arrive at the Crossroad Inn. Assuming she made good time, that is. Even if they ran the horses hard, large groups of people tend to travel slower, especially such a large party like that and on such incomplete roads at that.
"Mad with grief, I assume." Weiss shrugged in response to the news. Her exposure to Lady Arryn had been limited, but she'd heard all the rumors. The woman wasn't exactly mentally stable before her husband had died, and now she was likely jumping at snarks and grumpkins. "King's Landing is no place for a sickly boy like her son."
She had only caught glimpses of the now Lord Robert Arryn, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. If Weiss was being honest, she would be surprised if he managed to live to adulthood. She hated the thought of children dying, but that was commonplace in this world, with even grown men dying to a simple chill. Not even the Hand was immune to such a fate, it seemed.
"Aye." Cedric nodded, turning his attention to a serving girl that approached Weiss' table. She placed a platter full of cheese, fruits and thick slices of bacon before the Lannister Lady. It was typical inn fare, but she enjoyed it. Sure, she was used to the rich food in Lannisport, but this was made with something resembling love.
"Thank you." Weiss said politely as the serving girl bowed her head. She was plain and young, with crooked teeth. Likely a daughter of the innkeeper, or a farmgirl seeking to get some excitement in her life.
"We are honored to have your patronage, M'Lady." She bowed her head once more before moving to assist another patron, who appeared to be from House Grandison if Weiss was correct. The serving girl likely said that to any noble that visited, keen on a tip. Cedric reached to grab a grape when Weiss gently slapped his hand away.
"Get your own food, Ser, this has already been claimed." Weiss smirked and slid a gold dragon right in front of him. Keeping up her Aura reserves meant eating a large amount of food, most of which was already on its way. She had been immensely grateful for the feast following the melee, it allowed her to eat and not be judged. She wiped the grape he had attempted to grab and popped it into her mouth, the fruit sweet and refreshing.
Cedric rolled his eyes, but quickly snatched the gold dragon and slid it into his coin pouch. "As you command, my Lady Lannister." He attempted to give her a sarcastic bow, but hit his knee on the wooden bench, earning himself a yelp and grimace.
Weiss giggled as her sworn sword made his way to another table, where three of her men-at-arms broke their fast before it would be their turn to relieve the ones who guarded their belongings during the night. The chest that contained her winnings from the melee was hidden in her quarters while she slept, not trusting anyone else with thousands of gold dragons. Specifically, she had even changed out the contents for one of her luggage, so even if someone tried to steal the chest, they'd be only getting some dresses and shoes.
She grabbed her fork and knife, turning her attention to a delicious looking peach. Gently holding it with the fork, Weiss stabbed the peach, slicing its tender and juicy flesh, cutting around the seed. Once she was satisfied, Weiss stuffed it in her mouth once she was sure no one was looking in her direction. Even if she was far from the Westerlands and King's Landing, she had a reputation to uphold. Weiss frowned as she stared at the rest of her platter.
Perhaps it would've been wiser to eat everything in the privacy of her chambers.
Cersei
It took three weeks for them to arrive at the Deep Den after days worth of delays due to the incompetence of the carpenters and workers that had built the grand wheelhouse the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms traveled in with her children. What hadn't helped was the flocks of sheep who had dared to obstruct her majestic procession by clogging up the roads, churning up mud and complaining about any delays. Even so, a night in the Deep Den was better than one out on the road, even if the small, insignificant castle wasn't worthy of hosting the Queen. And at least the Lydden's knew their place as humble vassals. She had been treated as the Queen that she was upon her arrival, flocks of servants following her whim, everybody bowing and scraping in front of her.
Cersei barged into Lord Lydden's solar, which Father had commandeered for his personal use during their short stay. The two knights guarding the door did not even dare to stop her, as they knew their place. They simply opened the door and bowed as she walked in, the proud lioness that she was.
"Father." Cersei said softly as she slipped into the solar. It was plain, with only a single statue from one of the Free Cities, and another of a badger. How fitting such a minor vassal, to only have a pathetic solar without any decorations or anything. Where was their pride?
"I don't recall summoning you." Father said, reading a sheet of paper, likely taken from the pile of unopened letters, beside his goblet of Lannisport wine. He had been displeased during the trip back, focusing instead on the affairs of the family over meeting with her. Nobody had been able to get him to open up, even more so then usual.
"I wished to speak with you." Cersei's voice held a slight edge, sharper than she normally would've used on him. He may have been her Father, but she was still his Queen. Yet, at the same time, there was still a part of her that always would be his daughter, unwilling to resist him.
"I'm busy." Father didn't look up as he placed the paper to the side and grabbed another letter, opening it with the small knife he had by his side, the handle decorated with the head of a golden lion. "The delays your wheelhouse has cost us meant that Lord Lydden received letters directed for myself."
Cersei narrowed her eyes as she walked closer to his desk, despite not being prompted to do so. Who was he to lecture her about something as petty as delays? She had learned all her lessons about appearances and power from him! "It's about the Lannisport girl."
Father's green eyes continued to scan the letter, his face unreadable. She took this as a chance to continue speaking. She had to get these words out, she was not going to let this slip away. The old Witch was a liar, and she would not let anything stand in her way.
"Why would you let her train with a blade? She's just a girl! And a Lannisport Lannister at that, no better than a merchant." Cersei nearly snarled like the proud Lioness that she was. The white haired girl may have bewitched her Father and that fool Robert, but she wouldn't be so easily fooled. "And that no magic, just a mere trick like the Red Priest Robert keeps that claims to see the future in his flames?"
Father continued to ignore her as he read the stupid letter. That only enraged Cersei even more, who continued her rant. What was so important that some slip of a cousin would get all that Cersei was denied? Sure, her precious snowflakes looked nice, but Jaime would take her apart in a real fight.
"Why do you allow her to embarrass our family?!" She nearly shrieked, her volume steadily increasing until it was almost a roar. That earned her a sharp glare as Father finally looked up, his green eyes meeting her own.
"Embarrass the family, you say?" Father's voice was cold, reminding her of the Lannister's reputation for ruthlessness. He set the letter to the side and leaned back in Lord Lydden's chair. "When was the last time you won a melee?"
Cersei gritted her teeth. Father knew very well that she had been more skilled than Jaime before he forbade her from training. Despite her disguise, she'd been picked out for showing a jump in skill that someone had noticed was off.
"Did Jaime win the joust? Was he named the champion and crowned his own 'Queen of Love and Beauty?" Father's voice was as sharp as Valyrian steel. It made her take a step back, involuntarily. "And Tyrion, does he not slander the Lannister name with every whore he beds across the Seven Kingdoms?"
Cersei remained silent, knowing better than to interrupt her Father when he was angry. She was his Queen, but she was no fool. A Lion did not provoke another Lion and expect there to be no retaliation.
"That girl, that Lannister, won a melee against men twice her size and three times as experienced." Father finally stood up, yet his gaze never faltered. "She showed the realm that House Lannister is strong, not just in wealth, position and power. She showed them the superiority of our House, my legacy. How the men and women that bear the Lannister name are of a better stock. A girl of five and ten namedays defeated grown men in combat without a scratch, and showed off the magic that runs in our blood. Tell me, your Grace, how does that child embarrass the Lannister name?"
Cersei flinched softly and licked her full and perfect lips. She needed to choose her words carefully, lest she stir up her Father's anger even more. Her error, as much as it pained her to admit it, was that she had underestimated his attachment to the waif. This would need to be investigated further, before they could be dealt with.
"The only embarrassment I see lies before me." Father said before Cersei could answer. Stunned, Cersei stared at him, her face frozen in place? Her? A disappointment? She who had secured the Iron Throne for House Lannister? Who had endured the Fat Fool's japes and fondling, night after night? She embarrassed them? His face remained impassive as he reached for the letter he was reading, extending it in her direction. "You will remain at Casterly Rock for one night before heading North."
"North?" Cersei frowned as she snatched the letter, skimming over its contents. It was succint, barely a page or two, but the instructions were clear. Coupled with the Royal Seal that had been broken by Father, it was obviously a command, even if it was phrased as a request.
"The Fat Fool has summoned you to Moat Cailin along with the children, he means to visit Winterfell." Father explained as Cersei's eyes slowly widened in shock as she read the letter, and then reread it, just to make sure. Why was Robert summoning her to join him in the North? That barren wasteland was filled with barbarians that worshiped trees, and was freezing cold even in the summer. Why would he want her to bring the children? Unless…
"He likely means to name Lord Stark as his new Hand, and arrange a marriage." Father returned to Lord Lydden's seat. His face still impassive as ever, no doubt reconsidering plans that had been upset.
"I will never allow one of those wolves to sink their teeth in my children." Cersei scowled. Poor Joff, the Starks weren't worthy of such a marriage. Of course, in her opinion, nobody was worthy of marrying her precious Joff.
"You will allow it to happen." Father's voice was stern and broke no debate on the topic. "The Starks may not be a rich house, but their lineage is as long as ours, even if they are isolated from the rest of the kingdoms. Preparations are already being made for your departure." With that, he dismissed her with the wave of a hand.
Cersei returned to the hallway with dark eyes and her hands balled into fists. The doors closed behind her with a thud as she left the solar. Yet, as she walked down the hall, missing Jaime's touch and filled with rage, she only had one thought in mind.
No one would ever treat her like that again, not even Father.
A/N
Well this was written faster than I had expected it to.
You're no lioness Cersei, just a small hissy kitten who fancied herself as one.
This one is the real lioness:
View: https://youtu.be/Jq-ZDuH3NiI?si=ENlLI9ooQDE95l12
Yet Cersei is so obsessed of the prophecy that lives rent free in her head, lol.
Some Yi Tish guy in the background:
View: https://youtu.be/bHb5CFGYz1A?si=CZNvjN2jE60HpxDP
It would have been funny if Cersei wasn't this pathetic and delusional that everyone can see through her. Well, what the heck? I'll laugh anyway!
View: https://youtu.be/CbjMhmFGs0c?si=6txmbhosHRhqyICK
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Genna was correct to claim Tyrion is the most like Tywin. Both are sociopathic, intelligent, ruthless, egotistical, thin-skinned whoremongers.
But, Cersei is not unlike her father too. She is also an egotistical, ruthless sociopath. Like Tywin, Cersei views her children as extensions of herself. Like Tywin, she has an inflated view of her own abilities. And most importantly, like Tywin Cersei has an intrinsic understanding that rules only matter if someone is enforcing them. Which leads to audacity.
Cersei's failures come from the fact that the power and authority she has lived with her whole life has always been derived from others (her father, her husband, and her sons), but she has never internalized that.
Thus, as her household and family dissolve around her, she increasingly overestimates her relative power. Going so far as to literally delegate her power and authority away because she assumes no one would cross her.
But, Cersei is not unlike her father too. She is also an egotistical, ruthless sociopath. Like Tywin, Cersei views her children as extensions of herself. Like Tywin, she has an inflated view of her own abilities. And most importantly, like Tywin Cersei has an intrinsic understanding that rules only matter if someone is enforcing them. Which leads to audacity.
Cersei's failures come from the fact that the power and authority she has lived with her whole life has always been derived from others (her father, her husband, and her sons), but she has never internalized that.
Thus, as her household and family dissolve around her, she increasingly overestimates her relative power. Going so far as to literally delegate her power and authority away because she assumes no one would cross her.
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Isn't it because Tywin treated Tyrion like shit for being a dwarf and blamed him for the death of his wife Joanna by childbirth? That shaped and defined Tyrion into the way he is now.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I mean, her friend did mysteriously throw herself down that well....
Add in the fact that someone who is a younger, prettier copy of her shows up, well....
We all know it's Cersei who threw her down the well so that she won't blab and pass it off as an unfortunate accident.
Lol, true. Plus it made Cersei mad that Weiss Lannister is actually allowed to use a sword and fight with "magic". An obvious projection of her being salty that a Lannister cousin did it better.
- Location
- Russia
Another idea about Ruby Bolton - she is the only living child and heir of Lord Bolton - because when the Bastard killed her legitimate brother, 9 years old Ruby broke bastards spine over her knee. And then she beat all his friends.
She is wearing red cape in obvious rebellion to her Lord Father who wears pink cape.
She is bethrowrd to Rob Stark (so she can be a sister in law to second Stark Bastard - Yang Snow who is daughter of purple eyed Ashara Dayne) because - "who can stop me?"
Sorry, just another bout if speculation.
Meanwhile in the story plot thickens. I winder if because of delay caused by Cersei they will actually arrive to North closer to canon time?
She is wearing red cape in obvious rebellion to her Lord Father who wears pink cape.
She is bethrowrd to Rob Stark (so she can be a sister in law to second Stark Bastard - Yang Snow who is daughter of purple eyed Ashara Dayne) because - "who can stop me?"
Sorry, just another bout if speculation.
Meanwhile in the story plot thickens. I winder if because of delay caused by Cersei they will actually arrive to North closer to canon time?
At least Ramsay Snow would probably wish he died after Ruby Bolton broke his spine and Roose Bolton won't lift a finger since he won't need him as he has another child.
Of course it depends if Roose Bolton have a dose of Adaptational Nice Guy and not betray the Starks eventually.
As for his pink cape, she might find it amusing that he can wear it without shame and take it in stride.
I doubt Yang Snow* would let Catelyn Stark mistreat her and Jon Snow because of the bastard status and would give that Tuly woman a piece of her mind like a fiery Dayne daughter of Ashara.
*Her alternate name would be Barbara, a reference to Yang's voice actress, Barbara Dunkelman.
Bloody hell woman, she's more delulu than Blake on season 1
- Location
- La Serena, Chile
Ummm, are we talking about the same Ruby Rose?
The same who never intentionally killed or even beat to a bloody pulp? The same who pretty much ignored the murderer of Penny and Pyrrha to fight with Emerald back in V5?
Because if anything, I would see Ruby having a Bad Time coming to terms with the fact she has a half-sibling who secretly is a Monster. Either neither or not much physical punishment from her.
Oh she would scream in anguish and rage, but beyond that...
...would she even know? Because Roose Bolton managed to kept Ramsay's cruelty a secret. Same deal with still flaying people despite being oficially forbidden
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's Cersei, what did anyone expect?
Having to write from her POV (I'm the beta) is tricky because well, everyone else is based in reality for the most part. But not her.
Also, SB noticed something before you guys in Weiss's section. And no, it's not the cameo of Geralt/Ciri, again. It's relatively minor, but is some foreshadowing.
Fair, Ruby would absolutely have Ramsay be sent flying by her tornado move like in the cafeteria fight. But unlike Team JNPR, he won't survive it.
True, Roose Bolton only brought in Ramsay after Domeric Bolton died and the Flaying Lord is in need of an heir. But since Ruby is around, he won't need Ramsay unless of course he needs another spare.
Cersei is a petulant womanchild who fancied herself as a cunning lioness but everyone saw through her like an open book.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
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- He/Him
On the other hand, Westerosian sexism, but at the same time, she'd be less of a liability, especially if she's trueborn.
To paraphase the Last Days of FOXHOUND, some people can be played like fine violins. Others are just kazoos with a big red button labeled 'INFERORITY COMPLEX'.
If Cersei didn't have the Lannister name backing her up, she would be basically fucked, and not in a good way.
Oh yeh, Imagine what would happen to a hot blondie who's into incest.
Honestly being a salt wife would be a rather generous fate for her.
Lady Lannister and Lady Baratheon
I Commissioned ARJART for this amazing art! I squealed when I saw the finished product. It might be my favorite piece so far!
- Location
- La Serena, Chile
Okay that is just Beautiful and oh so painful if you are a Monochrome shipperI Commissioned ARJART for this amazing art! I squealed when I saw the finished product. It might be my favorite piece so far!
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