Boy from Beyond the Wall

The Queen and the Prince

Cersei never claimed to be the woman that always knew what to do. There were many moments in her life when she was unsure of how to act when faced with a new challenge, a new and gnarly twist of fate. And the latter, for all the outwardly predictability, was still able to surprise her, in ways less than pleasant. The queen was now presented with one, embodied by that one boy, that little demon. And it was up to her once again to address the issue and make sure it never bothered her again and threatened to ruin her entire life. And, worst of all, perhaps, ruin the lives of her own children.

On that evening, the boy never confronted her. Yet, as he stood in the distant corner of the dining hall, occasionally approaching the Stark children to exchange a couple of phrases, the boy still threw glances her way. And with his look alone he kept reminding the queen of what she had done. And that he also knew everything yet opted to remain silent deep into the night, maybe hatching a plan to extort her on the basis of that knowledge. The thought alone filled Cersei with fury she was forced to conceal. She knew that killing him now, in the middle of Winterfell, was a new challenge to the lioness. He somehow survived the fall without a scratch, there was evidently more to him than a scrawny body and sharp tongue. That idea filled her with remembrance of the man currently in the brothel with northern wenches — her vile little brother.

Cersei asked Catelyn about the child. Fortunately, the latter's distaste for the servant boy associating with her children easily invited a discussion. A discussion that wasn't very fruitful, as Catelyn knew better than to divulge more than she absolutely had to. The child was a vagabond that could make himself useful around the place. There was something else Catelyn didn't tell her, and Cersei knew this. The queen once again examined the boy, his raven hair and blue eyes, and a small voice at the back of Cersei's blonde head was whispering to her a horrid suspicion. What could a child with Stormland features be doing around Ned Stark? No, she quickly dismissed the notion. Robert was a buffoon, too dumb to hatch such a plan. Which could not be said about the late Jon Arryn.

Much later, in the middle of the feast, the hunting party came back: the king, lord Stark and the rest, including ser Jaime. Cersei immediately sought out her brother and did so without much difficulty. After all, the men were starving and dying to get some nourishment. At the cost of renouncing the pleasure, Jaime left that celebration of life and a hunted boar's death, instead joining his sister at a more secluded part of the castle as per her unspoken request. Sometimes all she needed to do was to give him a sign. Jaime could see her distress, and he suspected that it had something to do with the morning incident. His suspicions were soon confirmed in one of the empty corridors of the ever-cold castle, with the news shocking Jaime even more.

"This can't be right, nobody could have survived that," he reacted to the newfound information.

"How could you not check the body?" Cersei hissed.

"I was too busy covering our tracks."

"You didn't do a good job, good sir."

The two blonde nobles saw the grinning boy in question sitting on the windowsill. His ability to appear out of nowhere was a power that Lannisters were not yet fully aware of.

"It's 'ser', lad," Jaime still corrected.

"Where I'm from, your only title would be 'prisoner-to-be'," Danny responded dryly. "Pushing children out of the windows is not exactly legal."

"Watch your tongue," said Jaime quietly, absent-mindedly tapping on the hilt of his sword. "I can always amend my little mishap."