"𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓'𝑠 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑," their father always called it. Could make a man or woman wild in a sense, unpredictable, and powerful. And when a violet-eyed twin born to the Lord Eddard Stark, all knew that the boy would have it. And he did.
Beside his...
꧁~~~Cersei Lannister~~~꧂ ꧁~~~298 After Conquest~~~꧂
꧁Cersei of the one of the Great Houses of Westeros, House Lannister, was used to disrespect shown to her for most of her life. Most people underestimate the butterfly, or, in this case, the Lioness. Nobody seems to ever realize that her claws are just as long and sharp as anybody else's. And yet despite that fact, the Wolfmade her feel like an utter fool in front of everyone. But also the fact that his eyes told her that he knew that and was challenging her made it all the more infuriating.
The Stag King, her disgusting husband, enjoyed the snarky and sly comments about her brother Jaime and herself to no end. Cersei may be proud, but moreover, she is fucking pissed. Her son gets shunned by his father all because some kid utterly humiliated her brother in combat, and that part is another thing in itself as well.
The first night in Winterfell is certainly not going swell at all.
Joffrey, her beautiful and blessed firstborn son, sulks by himself at a table in the Great Hall, looking around with slightly widened eyes, looking thoroughly out of place here. She herself feels out of place. Beside her sits a Tully fish turned Stark wolf. Catelyn Stark isn't much company, she notes. Underneath all the courtesies, it's the same as her, really. Cold, miserable and prideful.
Sharp laughter rings out in the hall as music fills the air, the drunken atmosphere baring down on her as she takes another large gulp of her wine. Cersei's eyes trail across the room, watching her pig of a husband wearing his antlered golden crown, downing is ale and wine, groping and feeling up another wench without a single thought nor care for his wife. To say that Cersei Lannister was beyond pissed off tonight would be the understatement of the whole century.
"Have you ever been in the North before, Your Grace?"
Cersei barely turns to the sound of Lady Catelyn's words pouring from her mouth, not really caring to listen all that much. But she courtesies her anyway, as she had been taught to do since she learned how to breathe.
"No.."
Robert roars in laughter, slapping the backside of another wench as he yanks the woman onto his lap, utterly burying his face down into her breasts as Cersei's eye twitches slightly in fury.
"It's a lovely country."
"I'm sure it is quite grim after King's Landing... I remember when Ned brought me up here."
The Lady of Winterfell says as a way to somehow ease the tension practically radiating off of Cersei as the Queen would rather be anywhere else. Her anger only grows as she watches the Northeners party with her husband whislt her her practically sulks by himself at a table.
Sansa Stark though catches her eye for just a moment as Sansa talks quietly between herself and her best friend, Jeyne Poole. Despite a raging feast going on all around them, the two best friends are in a world of their own, gossiping about this and that, the crown Prince and what-not.
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