Curiosities

Jon awoke the next morning to an empty bed and a horrible feeling in the back of his mind. For a moment he thought that perhaps he had simply dreamed the encounter with Cersei, that perhaps it was just brought on by too much wine during the feast. But after he bathed and dressed himself and joined the Lannister household for breakfast he knew at once it had all happened.

Lady Cersei looked resplendent in the morning light, and her emerald eyes shone with delight when she saw him. With a weary greeting to them all, Jon lowered himself into the seat beside Myrcella who brightened considerably and began to regale him with the various things that they might do around the Keep today, or even out at Lannisport if weather permitted. Jon smiled and agreed to most things, enjoying her girlish excitement to be around him. Beneath the table he felt a foot begin to caress his thigh and then work its way up to his groin, rubbing playfully. Jon’s eyes snapped over to Cersei who smiled at him over the rim of her cup.

He looked around, and was thankful to see that none of the others paid him much mind beyond half-hearted indulgence towards Myrcella who continued to cheerfully chat away. Eventually the play stopped, and Cersei sat up a little straighter as her father entered the chamber, his expression hard as always.

Taking his place at the head of the table, Tywin quietly began to cut a piece of bacon, chew it ponderously, swallow, and then sit back to regard the table. “How did you sleep, Prince Jon?”

“Well..”Alarm shot through Jon, but he smothered it quickly. “ I was a little restless, but I got off eventually.”

Cersei’s eyes blazed with approval but she otherwise kept her expression trained.

“Good,” Tywin replied, “I had thought that we might go out to Lannisport today so that you might meet my brother, Ser Kevan. His time as master of coin has served him well, and he will wish to meet you before you return to the Capitol.”

Jon nodded in agreement. “That would be fine. My father speaks well of Ser Kevan.

“Tell me,” Jaime stirred himself from his place at the other end of the table, his voice raw from sleep. “How is your father fairing? I’ve heard...mixed reports.”

“Not well, I fear,” Jon felt as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown over his mood when thoughts of his father’s ill health came up. “His ailment has reduced his mobility greatly, and I fear that he slips further and further each day.”

Cersei took a long sip of her lemon water and spoke as if lost in thought, “I’m sure the Grand Maester will see to him. Pycelle was awarded his position through his years of experience and skill at healing after all.”

“Indeed,” Tywin said, leveling his daughter with a strange look before turning back to face Jon. “How is your brother? I had heard that he was making common cause with the Frey’s to bring an end the bandit problem that plagued the Riverlands.”

“Aegon is a proud warrior,” Jon shrugged, “ Between his considerable skill and the assistance he’s getting from the Riverlords, I doubt these bandits will be much of a problem.”

Tywin hummed in thoughtful agreement before returning to his meal. They ate in comfortable silence for another half hour before Tywin asked that Jamie and Jon ready themselves for the day’s travel.