Queen Cersei Lannister drums her fingers on the tabletop, her nerves strung tight with annoyance and impatience. She nearly jumps from her seat at the loud burst of laughter at her left side- Robert, guffawing over something inane, spewing crumbs of bread into his beard. She feels her nose start to wrinkle, her mouth start to drop down into a scowl, but she checks herself and forces her expression back into one of absolute stillness.
There is no reason for this issue to be so complicated- but then, Robert wouldn’t be Robert if he could ever do anything the sensible way. Her father only wants one or two naval ships to bolster the defenses at Lannisport against smugglers and pirates; certainly not an outlandish request. But Robert has ignored each and every raven, taking one look at Lord Tywin’s seal and tossing the missives into the hearth without even bothering to read them.
(In one of her own ravens to her father, Cersei had suggested that Lord Tywin simply ignore Robert’s requests for more coin until the matter was resolved. The reply she’d received was sharp and succinct, accusing her of being an overly-dramatic hothead with no sense of diplomacy.)
In an effort to prove her usefulness, Cersei had appealed to Robert directly, which resulted in nothing but a drunken shouting match and her unceremonious exile from his chambers. But lions never give up without a real fight, and more than Robert’s idiocy will be required to divert the Queen from her purpose.
The small council filters into the chamber- Robert, as usual, did not trouble himself to attend their session- and Cersei locks her emerald gaze on the Master of Ships. When Stannis Baratheon makes eye contact with her, followed by an awkward bow of the head, she gestures to the seat beside her and smiles brilliantly. His hooded eyes glance about almost nervously, as though in search of any other vacant seat at the table- but he has no choice. When he finally shuffles toward her side of the table, she lets her smile broaden even more.
She’d disclosed her plan to Jaime earlier that day, and he’d nearly choked on his own laughter. “You intend to charm Stannis Baratheon into helping Father?” he gasped, only laughing louder when her elbow jutted into his stomach.
“You don’t think I can do it?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Were it any other man, sweet sister, I’d be a fool to bet against you,” he drawled, leaning over to kiss the side of her neck. “But Stannis....” He laughs again, dodging the fist that she launches at his shoulder. “It will be the challenge of your life.”
FILL: Cersei/Stannis, seduction fail; "Persuasion"; PG (Part One)
Queen Cersei Lannister drums her fingers on the tabletop, her nerves strung tight with annoyance and impatience. She nearly jumps from her seat at the loud burst of laughter at her left side- Robert, guffawing over something inane, spewing crumbs of bread into his beard. She feels her nose start to wrinkle, her mouth start to drop down into a scowl, but she checks herself and forces her expression back into one of absolute stillness.
There is no reason for this issue to be so complicated- but then, Robert wouldn’t be Robert if he could ever do anything the sensible way. Her father only wants one or two naval ships to bolster the defenses at Lannisport against smugglers and pirates; certainly not an outlandish request. But Robert has ignored each and every raven, taking one look at Lord Tywin’s seal and tossing the missives into the hearth without even bothering to read them.
(In one of her own ravens to her father, Cersei had suggested that Lord Tywin simply ignore Robert’s requests for more coin until the matter was resolved. The reply she’d received was sharp and succinct, accusing her of being an overly-dramatic hothead with no sense of diplomacy.)
In an effort to prove her usefulness, Cersei had appealed to Robert directly, which resulted in nothing but a drunken shouting match and her unceremonious exile from his chambers. But lions never give up without a real fight, and more than Robert’s idiocy will be required to divert the Queen from her purpose.
The small council filters into the chamber- Robert, as usual, did not trouble himself to attend their session- and Cersei locks her emerald gaze on the Master of Ships. When Stannis Baratheon makes eye contact with her, followed by an awkward bow of the head, she gestures to the seat beside her and smiles brilliantly. His hooded eyes glance about almost nervously, as though in search of any other vacant seat at the table- but he has no choice. When he finally shuffles toward her side of the table, she lets her smile broaden even more.
She’d disclosed her plan to Jaime earlier that day, and he’d nearly choked on his own laughter. “You intend to charm Stannis Baratheon into helping Father?” he gasped, only laughing louder when her elbow jutted into his stomach.
“You don’t think I can do it?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Were it any other man, sweet sister, I’d be a fool to bet against you,” he drawled, leaning over to kiss the side of her neck. “But Stannis....” He laughs again, dodging the fist that she launches at his shoulder. “It will be the challenge of your life.”
That was all Cersei needed to hear.