A Tale of Stags and Lions - Mine is the Fury (Game of Thrones)

Chapter One - Wolves and Stags

Fanart: By Nilah Magruder on Reddit

Word Count: 4342

King's Landing – 298AC

Cersei Lannister leaned on the balcony of the throne room nervously. The body of Jon Arryn, the hand of the king, laid cold and dead on a marble table with the blue cloth covering it, the sigil of a hand embroidered in the material. Candles filled the room and gathered around his resting corpse was the silent sisters. A religious order of women who swore to silence. They walked around him in a funeral ceremony with vessels filled with burning incense, which was very strong.

It was a dull affair and Cersei couldn't understand how anyone could choose to be a silent sister, they must be desperate.

"As your brother, I feel it's my duty to warn you, you worry too much"

A smiling Jaime approached her, confident as always. He leaned against one of the pillars and looked down at Jon and then back at her.

"It's starting to show"

Cersei scoffed looking away "And you never worry about anything. When we were seven and you jumped off the cliffs at Casterly Rock, you were never afraid"

"There was nothing to be afraid of until you told Father 'We're Lannisters, Lannisters don't act like fools'" He mocked his father.

She shook her head observing the dead body "What if Jon Arryn told someone?"

"But who would he tell?"

"My husband?"

Jaime gave her a look of disbelief "If he told the king, both our heads would be skewered on the city gates by now. Whatever Jon Arryn knew or didn't know, it died with him and Robert will choose a new Hand of the King, someone to do his job while he's off fucking boars and hunting whores" He paused for a moment "Or is it the other way around?"

Cersei didn't seem convinced, he reach out his hand to touch her arm "And life will go on" he reassured.

She smiled looking as her secret lover "You should be the Hand of the King"

He let go of her delicate arm and chuckled "No, not me"

His eyes ran over the throne room and the suddenly stopped, Cersei's gaze following his.

"But you know who would make a good hand?"

In the corridor which led to the small council chamber stood Lyonel Baratheon with his personal guard Aeron Velaryon. They were talking in hushed voices to each other.

Cersei took note that Lyonel grew up to be a handsome young man. His hair was still as black as ever but slightly curly like her's and Myrcella's. His eyes were also after her, the same shape and emerald green color. However apart from that he was all Robert. At the age of fifteen he was already 6ft tall and still growing, this made sense since the king was a giant as 6ft and a half. He was also strong and built for battle as the Baratheon's always were. He had a strong posture but could be really clumsy.

He resembled him in looks, that was irrefutable but not much is personality. He wasn't quick to anger or yell, he didn't drink, he wasn't interested in prostitutes - the only thing he had in common with the druken fool was that they both liked to fight and win. He was chatty and a bit awkward. He wasn't cunning like her or intelligent like his grandfather Tywin but he wasn't a complete idiot either, if he felt someone was untrustworthy he wasn't going to risk it, however he was still inexperienced so it would be easy for a good act to fool him. Mostly he was more like his uncle Renly, who he was very close with. He always focused on doing the right thing and what is best for everyone, not for himself. He had a big heart and he was loveable.