The Snows of Winterfell: The First Song - Vengeance of the She-Wolf

Line Four: Cersei

Line Four: Cersei

Cersei Baratheon was more than happy to know that Robb Stark was dead.  

Although it had only been a month since word of his death reached King's Landing, the Queen Dowager was still celebrating that fact that the boy cold no longer be an irritating thorn in her side. She mused quietly to herself as her little golden-haired Tommen sat within arm's reach, reading aloud to her of Aegon and his Dragons. Cersei smiled genuinely whenever he glanced up at her, and her hands reached for a goblet of wine she had poured for herself that sat nearly empty on a small table. She was rather glad that Joffery's attentions were not her concern for the moment, and aimed toward incessantly torturing the so-called 'Princess' Sansa Stark, now a Ward of the Crown. 

At that moment, Tyrion walked in, a glass of wine in his hand and humming a tune. As he walked in he gave a little bow. 

"Sister, Nephew. How are we this evening?" 

Cersei's full, pouting lips were pulled down as a scowl spread across her face. As he entered her private chambers, she rolled her eyes and sat up on her bed as Tommen gave his little uncle a fool's grin. 

"Come to spoil my good mood as always, little Imp?" Cersei inquired, drawing her youngest child closer to her body as she stared down her nose at him. 

"Tell me what you want, and then run back to your whores." 

Tyrion gave a look at her and sipped his wine. It was a pleasant Dornish Red and went down smooth. He let the taste linger on his tongue before clearing his throat,  

"What do I want? Well for starters, we still need to discuss the fact that our dear brother, Tybalt, is still a prisoner in Winterfell even though you already claimed the war is over." 

The former Queen's irritation had already spiked the moment her youngest brother reared his ugly head-- she wanted him gone on sight. The fact that he took his sweet time explaining his presence in her chambers merely added to her growing annoyance. When Tyrion mentioned Tybalt, however, Cersei's cat-green eyes narrowed as though he had slighted her-which he had, of course, or it was how she had taken his satiric inquiry. 

"Oh, the war is far from over," Cersei said darkly as she stroked Tommen's hair. "Joffrey merely said so in order to appease the hording masses-a foolish thing, considering the fact that the damned Starks are everywhere!" 

Cersei scoffed before shooing Tommen off of the bed; she called in a maid to take him back to his own chambers. She chose to ignore the child's protests and moved to the small table laden with food and drinks just a few feet from away. Glorious as ever in red, her grown fit her body shape well even with the elegant metalwork that accompanied it. She glided about, musing with a refilled goblet in her palm. 

"Frankly, I'm surprised that little girl hasn't sent us Tybalt's head already-wouldn't be such a shame with you in his place, though. Am I the only one of Father's children who hasn't been lured by a Stark bitch?" 

Tyrion shrugged. "It was our loving father who sent him to treat with Robb Stark when my dearest nephew Joffery lost his sense and called for Ned Stark's head. You are just as equal for our brother's imprisonment, as you watched as Ilyn Payne let the sword drop. Now, I feel it is my job to get him out of the mess our dear King started." 

His eyes shot into her like arrows, blame coming off in waves as he spoke. Without another word, he sat down and took a heavy swig of wine. His eyebrows raised in a condescending quirk. Cersei rolled her eyes at Tyrion and wandered over to her balcony. 

"Though Ned Stark was a fool and stuck his nose where he had no business sticking it, his execution was all Joffrey's doing, not mine, Tyrion. I, at least tried to intervene, to warn him against it-- but you know how my darling boy is; there is always someone he must antagonize-- he just decided to antagonize an entire fucking region this time 'round," Cersei said, her tone slightly bitter as she stared out into the capital city of King's Landing. 

"And you know Tybalt has a way with his words; he's probably already got that little whore bowing to him as we speak. She's as foolish as the rest of them, too. Have you heard what she's calling herself? 'The She-Wolf'," she shook her head and turned towards her brother. 

Tyrion rolled his eyes. "If he truly had her bowing down to him she wouldn't be calling herself 'The She Wolf', would she? Honestly, you could be intelligent if you weren't so damn daft. In any case, another thing is, he has failed to report back for several months, even before the Red Wedding. For all we know he might be like Jaime now. Missing limbs included." 

Cersei decided to ignore Tyrion's quips-- she knew he was making up for what he was lacking in certain areas, so she let it go; just this once. She contemplated his words, mulling them over in her mind until something started to piece together. 

"He rode to Winterfell in order to negotiate with the Stark boy for Jamie's release, did he not? He must have been ambushed, then, because he wasn't riding alone-- but of course, got himself captured... Tybalt has been a prisoner for all of those months-- but why was no message sent back with a rider, unless..." 

She mused silently for a moment longer before one of her fine golden brows twitched uncontrollably, and her radiant face narrowed as her lips tightened. In an assured, overtly confident voice, she concluded,  

"She would not be so foolish as to kill him-- she could not possibly be so stupid as to bring the entire force of our House and allies down on her and the North. We are missing something, Tyrion, and you need to find out what it is." 

At this, the dwarf chuckled.  

"I need to do it? Me? Dear sister, you need to pull your weight around here. I've been doing all I can for this family while you have drug its name through the mud. If I'm going to do anything with Tybalt, you will be assisting." 

"I have pulled my weight around for long enough," Cersei snapped at him, setting the goblet down hard enough to slosh the wine around.  

"And who are you to judge me, Tyrion, when you're the one who enjoys whoring yourself about as though the entire continent were your personal brothel?" 

She snorted, rather unladylike, and moved towards the door. Although he was irritating to the bone and she prayed often enough that her youngest brother would simply die, Cersei knew Tyrion had a point. He obviously lacked the resources that were required in order to end this trivial matter that was the North-much less rescue their brother Tybalt --unless he had her backing. With that thought in mind, she begrudgingly added, 

"Fine, Tyrion-we will find Tybalt...together."  

Her lips curled with repugnance for moment before she caught herself. However, another thought occurred to Cersei, and she turned back to glance at her malformed dwarf of a younger brother. 

"Might I ask how your dear wife has taken to the news? Of her family, I mean? I suppose I should offer my condolences-it was a necessary measure, however. Now, if only Ellaria Stark hadn't gotten away, we could've put all of this foolishness behind us and prepared for Joffrey and Margaery's wedding as we should have." 

Tyrion shook his head at his sister.  

"Poor, poor deluded Cersei. I met Ellaria Stark. Yes she has the beauty and grace of my beloved wife," he rolled his eyes at the term, "but she also possess the fierceness Arya had. We cannot act like she isn't a threat. The North remembers what the Freys, Boltons, and our family has done to them. If you ask me, if we really want the foolishness to end we should send an envoy with tokens of good faith for negotiating." 

She blinked at Tyrion for a moment as his words registered before she gave him a small smile; the look in her and her tone of voice were as though she were speaking to her little Tommen when she said, 

"Tyrion, what a foolish thing to say! I think you might have caught something from one of your whores-- especially that one you keep in your rooms --because I must say that you have gone daft." 

His sister tutted at him with a heavy sigh.  

"Send an envoy if you wish, Tyrion, it makes no difference to me. But the only tokens sent in my regards will my greatest faith-- that she will inevitably die as her brother and father did: taken without mercy and pity." 

Dismissing him from her mind, the Queen Dowager of the Seven Kingdoms left the room.