The smell of butter was nothing new along this particular length of corridor near the popcorn room. Intent on her own business, Cersei nearly swept past. What stopped her? That intangible bond between twins, perhaps, a psychic twinge?
Whatever the reason, she stopped; and then she stared.
"There is that," she conceded with a sniffle. "But it was a lobster. I've never been so frightened in all my life." And it was not easy to frighten Cersei Lannister.
Jaime had comforted Cersei over many things, even the death of their her own son. But there is a reason there are no condolence cards that read, "I'm sorry you got turned into a lobster temporarily."
Whatever the reason, she stopped; and then she stared.
"Jaime?"
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Jaime, in all his buttery glory, grinned evilly and moved forward to embrace Cersei.
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"It has been all too long. This place is terrible."
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Good, not too terribly long, Jaime thought.
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"...Praytell, have you had any encounters with lobsters lately that might make you say such a thing?"
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"They turned me into a lobster," she wailed.
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"Dare I ask, why? And who?"
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"Well, you got better."
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"Did anyone try and, er, boil you?," he asked.
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Jaime suddenly knew just the thing to cheer her up.
"No, if you'll cease your anger, I'll tell you a delightful little tale about our little brother and the misfortune that befell his cock."
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