Title: Five Times Jaime Made Cersei Laugh
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire
Characters: Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister
Word Count: 889
Rating: NC-17, warning for cesty things.
Summary: Hm, so a pentagonal exercise in trying to develop Jaime and Cersei's messed-up-ness, spanning from their childhood to Joffrey's birth.
Author's Notes: Prompted by
minviendha , and interestingly, I'm starting to enjoy writing the Lannisters quite a bit. Hm. Yeah. Move along, move along.
One. “Cersei, Cersei, wait for me!” He was running after her, trying to keep up. Though his twin sister had legs exactly the same length as his, he found her hard to follow if she had enough momentum to start exactly five seconds before he did.
Maybe it was also because he was finding almost more enjoyable to lag behind her and look at her back as she ran. Her hair was pretty, espescially when the sun hit it and made it shine like gold. Jaime might have been a little bit too busy while admiring his sister - he tripped and fell face first in the mud.
Next thing he knew, Cersei was giggling a little, and reaching to help him up. “Come on, we'll be late for dinner. And now we have to get you a new change of clothes...” He wasn't all that bothered by the prospect. After all, he liked playing maester with Cersei, more than with anyone else.
Two. “I bet you're not bold enough to try,” she taunted him, again. They were thirteen, then, barely boy and girl, and in the midst of a move to King's Landing. There were casks and casks of dresses and shirts in Cersei's room, and he was enjoying the leisurely observation of her busy preparations.
“So, do you think they'd tell us apart, if we traded clothes?” It was an idle question, really. Cersei blushed a little. “Hm, I don't know. Do you think?” Jaime shrugged distractedly. “I dunno.”
“Well, there's really only one way to find out,” she said, and there was a thread of mischief in her voice. “No, you wouldn't,” he said, chuckling in schock. “Oh yes I would. Here. Try this one on,” she ordered him as she threw him a gown of Lannister crimson, the one she never wore.
In the mirror, the boy and the girl looked like each other - but that day, Jaime noticed acutely that there was something fundamentally different about his twin's body. He didn't bother to explain his blush when Cersei pointed it out, and that made her laugh even more.
Three. They were just sixteen, and there had been a sort of banquet for their birthday. A tourney had even been given - it wasn't large by any means, but it had been pleasant and well organized, and all the Lannister bannermen had sent at least one man to joust.
Jaime had watched the lists with growing interest - growing attention, even. He hadn't quite found a way to get himself in, though. The Twin's Tourney was a show for him, not an adventure, alas. What a pity - he would have licked them all clean, he knew.
The best part, though, happened later in the night, when everyone was drunkenly asleep. Cersei's hand had sneaked under the tablecloth and touched his thigh, and they had slipped away later, to find each other. That time, he kissed her passionately for the first time, without her own invitation to do so.
It must have been the wine. At any rate, the muffled giggle she gave him as she arched under his touch was reward enough.
Four. King Robert Baratheon was gone, and that was never a bad thing for Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard. He slipped into the Queen's room discreetly - she was sleeping, then, soundly, snoring very lightly like a little kitten wrapped in heavy woolen blankets.
It didn't take him too much time to remove his clothes and to slip in the Royal bed next to her, snuggling her back like he'd done so many time before. She stirred a little, moved against him, muttered something in her sleep. This night, though, Jaime wasn't quite up for serious things.
His fingers trailed along her side, lightly. They sneaked under tender places, exploring. She made another noise - she was awake, now, and pretending to be lost in slumber, he realized. Very well, then. His fingertips brushed a nipple, his thumb explored it a bit longer, before he moved his attentions to the warm place under her arms.
Then, he tickled her mercilessly, and she opened her eyes with a joyful, reflexive start, almost yelping in adamant protest before she started to twist about in excessive laughter.
Five. It had been a while since Jaime had had a chance to speak with his sister alone, since the baby's birth. Jaime had been there as much as he could, but it never quite seemed to be enough. In the silent room where baby and mother rested, he kept a quiet vigil, like a lion over a lioness and newborn cub.
Oh, but this new bord really did look like a cub. Not a trace of the stag on this one, oh no, he mused as he looked at the baby sleeping. After a moment, Cersei stirred, opened her eyes, slowly.
“What are you thinking about,” she said, tiredly, lazily.
“Ah, I was thinking what a good thing it is that this one takes after his mother,” Jaime replied with a tender smile.
Cersei laughed. “Oh, I think he'll have a great deal to take after his father too,” she said with an amused grin.
Jaime blushed but couldn't help but be quietly pleased.