It's the small, small things...
Who : Jamie and Cersei Lannister
Fandom : A Song of Ice and Fire
Word Count : 605
Rating : PG-13 for kissees and UST
Prompted by : sakru909
That day was just too sunny to stay inside, and besides, Cersei was bored. She refused the cloak Septa Antone offered with a sweet smile that was full of guile and less than innocent, and ignored the men at arms who followed her around like a group of puppies.
“Lady, you cannot go unprotected,” Ser Carter told her, tiredly as he repeated it for the umpteenth time.
“I will not be unprotected,” Ser, she told him impatiently. “I am going to see my brother.”
The knight sighed and contented himself with keeping a distant eye on her as she crossed the court yard, passed the sept and made for the training field.
Jaime was on his palfrey, smiling wickedly down at the boy he’d just dismounted for the fourth time.
“When are you going to give up, Cyrus?” The boy sighed, and stood, laboriously, before he bowed to Jaime. “As you bid, my lord,” he told him, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Jaime’s jab was interrupted with Cersei’s crystalline laughter, and he turned to face her as he dismissed his opponent with only a light wave of the hand. “Sweet sister,” he said as he dismounted. “What brings you here?”
She smiled, mischievously and came closer, too close for comfort. “Can’t I simply want to see my dear brother?” Jaime’s eyes glazed a little for her closeness, and he swallowed. “Of course. You can see me whenever you want to.”
She reached, twined her hand in his hair, a gesture innocent in appearance, that she’d done many times before, but it suddenly felt sinful. “I’m glad,” she whispered, for his ears alone. “Because I want to see you as much as I can.”
Jaime coughed, a little. “Walk with me?” It should have been a command, but it was not. “Take your armor off first,” she told him, uncompromisingly.
He reddened for no good reason and went off to do just that. When he came back to the field, she was sitting on a ball of hay, but she stood almost immediately.
“Good. You look better,” she told him, appreciatively. “Look what I have,” she showed him, palm outstretched.
It was a small toy they’d about, argued over and over when they were little, though Jaime always caved in and let Cersei have it. His eyebrows lifted, and he said, curtly, “Give me that.”
Cersei laughed and sprinted out of reach - her feet were light and her strides where as long as her twin brother’s. He started after her, running, and it was the obsessive training that gave him the upper hand. Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Laughing, they tumbled in a pile of hay, and laughing, she came up on top, unsurprisingly. Her body was too close for comfort and too far for comfort all at once.
He was only fourteen, and his body responded to her closeness before he realized what it meant. Her lips edged that wicked smile he knew well, and she leaned in, wriggling her hips against him. “Oh, sweet brother, what have we here?”
He blushed, stuttered something both ineffectual and useless… and suddenly his hands were in her hair, and her lips were on his. The kiss was not tender, but savage and hungry, practiced as if Cersei had rehearsed it countless times. Jaime endured it, became assertive as the kiss continued, until his sister broke it, abruptly, leaving him breathless and achingly aroused.
“Can I keep the toy, now?” She asked, sweetly, like a kitten, almost.
All he could do was nod. For him, Cersei had simply negated the existence of the word ‘no’.
Fandom : A Song of Ice and Fire
Word Count : 605
Rating : PG-13 for kissees and UST
Prompted by : sakru909
That day was just too sunny to stay inside, and besides, Cersei was bored. She refused the cloak Septa Antone offered with a sweet smile that was full of guile and less than innocent, and ignored the men at arms who followed her around like a group of puppies.
“Lady, you cannot go unprotected,” Ser Carter told her, tiredly as he repeated it for the umpteenth time.
“I will not be unprotected,” Ser, she told him impatiently. “I am going to see my brother.”
The knight sighed and contented himself with keeping a distant eye on her as she crossed the court yard, passed the sept and made for the training field.
Jaime was on his palfrey, smiling wickedly down at the boy he’d just dismounted for the fourth time.
“When are you going to give up, Cyrus?” The boy sighed, and stood, laboriously, before he bowed to Jaime. “As you bid, my lord,” he told him, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Jaime’s jab was interrupted with Cersei’s crystalline laughter, and he turned to face her as he dismissed his opponent with only a light wave of the hand. “Sweet sister,” he said as he dismounted. “What brings you here?”
She smiled, mischievously and came closer, too close for comfort. “Can’t I simply want to see my dear brother?” Jaime’s eyes glazed a little for her closeness, and he swallowed. “Of course. You can see me whenever you want to.”
She reached, twined her hand in his hair, a gesture innocent in appearance, that she’d done many times before, but it suddenly felt sinful. “I’m glad,” she whispered, for his ears alone. “Because I want to see you as much as I can.”
Jaime coughed, a little. “Walk with me?” It should have been a command, but it was not. “Take your armor off first,” she told him, uncompromisingly.
He reddened for no good reason and went off to do just that. When he came back to the field, she was sitting on a ball of hay, but she stood almost immediately.
“Good. You look better,” she told him, appreciatively. “Look what I have,” she showed him, palm outstretched.
It was a small toy they’d about, argued over and over when they were little, though Jaime always caved in and let Cersei have it. His eyebrows lifted, and he said, curtly, “Give me that.”
Cersei laughed and sprinted out of reach - her feet were light and her strides where as long as her twin brother’s. He started after her, running, and it was the obsessive training that gave him the upper hand. Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Laughing, they tumbled in a pile of hay, and laughing, she came up on top, unsurprisingly. Her body was too close for comfort and too far for comfort all at once.
He was only fourteen, and his body responded to her closeness before he realized what it meant. Her lips edged that wicked smile he knew well, and she leaned in, wriggling her hips against him. “Oh, sweet brother, what have we here?”
He blushed, stuttered something both ineffectual and useless… and suddenly his hands were in her hair, and her lips were on his. The kiss was not tender, but savage and hungry, practiced as if Cersei had rehearsed it countless times. Jaime endured it, became assertive as the kiss continued, until his sister broke it, abruptly, leaving him breathless and achingly aroused.
“Can I keep the toy, now?” She asked, sweetly, like a kitten, almost.
All he could do was nod. For him, Cersei had simply negated the existence of the word ‘no’.