(no subject)
She was stretched out in front of the fire, proud, and warm, and lazy as the cats that graced her family's banners. The former (-and future, she told herself) queen of Westeros was content. Oh, Joffrey had gotten himself into some foolish trouble or other, which put of a damper on her plans, but that would be easily remedied by a sharp lecture and a reminder of all that was at stake.
They would return home soon. She was certain of it. How she knew, she could not have said, but what else could the return of her son to her, so beautiful and perfect, what else could it mean? They would gather followers, perhaps, and set off in one of the boats that dotted the island's shore - perhaps that new one that belonged to that Caspian boy who followed after the Starks like a lost puppy. Oh, she had heard it had been tried before to no avail, but why should that stop them from trying again? Or she would find someone who knew how to make those flying machines work, and they would return home in that. And what a return that would make!
The details, the logic of such a plan, they were not necessary to contemplate. Details were left to other people - and Cersei knew how to make other people's details fit her desire.
Cersei turned lazily upon the floor next to the fire, smiling slowly. She had her child, she had her beauty, she would have her power again. She had wasted too much time wallowing in useless hopelessness. No longer, she told herself.
For all her relaxed, controlled calm, there was a glint in her eye of madness and determination. Her hopes were absurd, but she would grasp them at any cost. Oh, yes.
They would return home soon. She was certain of it. How she knew, she could not have said, but what else could the return of her son to her, so beautiful and perfect, what else could it mean? They would gather followers, perhaps, and set off in one of the boats that dotted the island's shore - perhaps that new one that belonged to that Caspian boy who followed after the Starks like a lost puppy. Oh, she had heard it had been tried before to no avail, but why should that stop them from trying again? Or she would find someone who knew how to make those flying machines work, and they would return home in that. And what a return that would make!
The details, the logic of such a plan, they were not necessary to contemplate. Details were left to other people - and Cersei knew how to make other people's details fit her desire.
Cersei turned lazily upon the floor next to the fire, smiling slowly. She had her child, she had her beauty, she would have her power again. She had wasted too much time wallowing in useless hopelessness. No longer, she told herself.
For all her relaxed, controlled calm, there was a glint in her eye of madness and determination. Her hopes were absurd, but she would grasp them at any cost. Oh, yes.