Chapter 23

Arraon

Arraon took the whetstone and brought it from one end of the blade to the other. The work was arduous but needed to be done. Back in his bedchamber, he sat in the shadow of his bed upon the steps leading up to it with Daemon at his side, with his sword balanced across his knee. The sound of the stone scraped his ears as a child, when uncle Tyg had urged him to learn how to keep care of his own blades, rather than relying on a squire to do everything. And so he did, practising as oft as he could so that the sound of it eventually became as familiar as his own heartbeat and the noise was barely an issue for him at all.

Even taking its importance into account, he had failed in his duty as of late. He had left his swords hanging on the wall for too long, for what purpose did they serve? He finished whetting the sword and brought it's strange, foreign edge to his face. To deny that there was an elegance and delicacy to it would be foolish but that did not mean that it was effective. They served their purpose in sparring matches which relied upon speed and skill alone but on the battlefield, Arraon doubted their usefulness.

Arraon had used it only once when he and Ser Jaime battled the Kingswood Brotherhood. Against peasants with no armour and shit tier weaponry, they proved effective and capable weapons but otherwise? They had completely failed him when he faced the Smiling Knight. Even when he landed a hit upon him, it simply resounded off his armour. He was doubly fortunate that he managed to deflect the Knight's own attacks and that the future Kingsguard did not witness that embarrassment.

Why then did he continue to hold them? Why not abandon them completely for the broadswords of his youth? He could have said that they did not suit him but he knew that was a lie. On the few occasions that he had been able to pick one up again, it still fit neatly in his hand as a warrior and a knight but something about the way it fit into his hand did not sit right with him.

Arraon could never figure out what it was. He always assumed it was the weight of the weapon which made it far too unseemly for him to use, but if he were being honest with himself, that was never the case. He just felt strange to hold such a conventional weapon. Or was it that holding an unconventional weapon made him feel more at ease, as if he fit that more? He only wished that he knew the answer to these questions.

Nevertheless, focusing on a mind numbing and repetitive task like that took his mind off what had happened recently. Yet as soon as he allowed his mind to wander, it inevitably drew back to those events nonetheless. Sylvia was gone, as was the rest of Lord Lefford's Household. They had seen them off at the Lion's Mouth, and Sylvia wore the same dress that she had arrived him and flashed him several wicked smiles as Lord Lymon made his prolonged farewells to their Lord Paramount.

Arraon hated seeing that. He hated seeing her, hated everything about her now. As he continued to refine his blade, he thought it would have been prudent to test it on her heart. Somehow, he knew it was a cruel sentiment. Knew that he would not have done much different in her position but he no longer cared. She betrayed him, and he no longer cared about her.

He had thought that perhaps she would have left some kind of impact on her, but she barely did. True, the scar of her would not heal easily, that much he knew. He had offered his heart to her and she had manipulated him, poisoned him and wounded him as part of some twisted game. He prayed that the gods would judge her cruelly, and hoped he never saw that face ever again. Yet that only paled in comparison to the guilt and outrage he felt at himself over what he said to his father.

Lord Tywin Lannister was the finest man to have ever lived, and he had raised the Seven Kingdoms and House Lannister from their knees. He lived for justice and truth, Arraon had seen that more than enough times to know, yet he had repaid him with arrogance and insults to his face. Even when the Leffords departed, Lord Tywin would not meet Arraon's eyes and retreated into his chambers as quickly as he had left.

How could he have been so insolent? How could he accuse him of consorting with whores? Even the image of it beggared belief. Yet perhaps that was the truth of it. Maybe he was begat from a whore, even if Lord Tywin did not know it. As he said, blood always tells, and Arraon's certainly had. Yet the story it told was not of a Lannister of Casterly Rock.

Yet his thoughts on all of this were quickly interrupted with the door swinging open without warning. Arraon did not fail to notice that Daemon regarded the entry with approval.

"I told you, I do not wish to be disturbed." Arraon hissed under his breath assuming it must have been one of the servants.

"Oh I don't doubt it, but fortunately for me, I never do what you tell me," Cersei said as she floated into the room in a crimson dress with Jewel at her side. Jewel began to cuddle blithely with her white haired sibling as Cersei closed the door behind her. "Ugh," Cersei continued, "How can you bear this room? You can barely see anything!"

Arraon watched as she went over to one of the two wrought iron candle holders in the room which were lit and took a splint from their foot, lighting every candle stick on that holder before methodically going to each of the seven wrought holders in the room to light each candle. In truth, Arraon hadn't noticed the darkness all that much. Nights spent entirely at Summerhall with only a reading light and Rhaegar's harp had taught him to have more appreciation for dimmer light.

"So," Cersei began as she continued to light every candle, "Is it true what they're saying?"

"That would depend on what 'they' are saying, sweet sister."

"That you fucked Lefford's baseborn niece after you fell yesterday." Cersei said bluntly as she did not even look at him. When he did not reply, Cersei spun around on the spot and Arraon could not meet her eyes but he did see her eyebrow cock above before a smile graced her lips. "Oh, by the Seven, this is even more joyous than I thought. You fell for her as well!

"Yes, I did, but…her heart proved to be false."

Cersei scoffed at that notion. "You should have known."

"Excuse me?"

"You should have known she was a whore." She said as she pointed the splint directly at Arraon as she moved to the next candle holder.

"And how was I to know that?"

"Oh, don't be naïve. I knew it from the second I saw her. The demure attitude, hiding behind her hair, the quaint stuttering. And the less said for those scant, fabric deprived dresses the better. Still, I never considered her existence again until this quaint little drama began to unfold." Cersei giggled in a sinister way only that she could. He supposed Cersei was entitled to think that about her, for what could she be to Cersei but a passing annoyance, if even that? Yet to Arraon, she represented everything in the world he could have hated at that moment. Everything cruel and deceitful and twisted wrapped up in sweet smiles. Though he had to thank her, for without her treachery, he would never have known not to blindly trust such lies in the first place.

"If it was so obvious, then why did you not see fit to tell me?"

"I assumed you knew! I thought you were playing some game with her, but she turned out to be the one with the advantage on you." She said as she lit the last candle on the last holder in the room, letting the light shine with a light as bright as their shared golden hair. "Still, I suppose it can't be helped, you are but a man."

"Excuse me?"

"She knows how the game is played; she fluttered her eyelashes and your hardened steel looks for a sheath."

"And how did you become such an expert on the workings of the mind?"

"I pay attention to people, dear brother. If more people paid attention to me, the world would be a better place."

"Perhaps you are right on that. If I spent more of my time around you, I would have been able to tell that Sylvia was such a wanton harlot from the moment I met her." He said with a smile as Cersei settled beside Jewel, scratching her head, at the foot of the marble steps. She had a disgruntled look on her face at that comment, which told Arraon she would have prevented it if she could. "Indulge me, how did you hear of this rumour anyhow?"

"I heard my handmaids talking about it."

"Didn't you dismiss them but a moon ago?"

"I did."

"So, how did you overhear this rumour?"

"I dismissed them once I heard them prattling on about gossip that need not concern them."

"Again? How many is that now?"

"I lost count some time ago. Not that it matters, they are as disposable as my dresses."

"They're people, Cersei."

"Yes, they're people, and they're completely disposable. It is one of father's most important lessons that I shall need one day."

"What do you mean?"

"For when I become the Lady of Casterly Rock. I have observed father for many years and the lessons he tried to impart onto you and Jaime. I shall be a worthy successor to him."

Arraon was completely unsure of how to respond to that. He did not know whether to laugh or to simply remain silent and ignore the sentiment. Eventually, he took the sword from his knee and placed it in front of him, with his hands doubly resting on the tip of its hilt. "Cersei, what in the name of forest and river makes you think father will ever allow you to replace him?"

"Who else? Jaime has taken the white cloak and your birth makes you unfit for this office. I am father's sole heir."

"You are aware that we have a brother, don't you?"

"What of it?"

"A younger brother comes before the sister. That has been custom and law in Westeros since the coming of the Andals."

Cersei only laughed at that. "You do not think father would ever seat that beast on the high seat of our ancestors, do you? He would never desecrate the family name in such a manner."

"Careful," Arraon warned, "He is still our brother. You shouldn't speak of him like that."

"Why? He is the disgrace of our house." She said with a coldness that Arraon had come to expect from his half-sister but then she began to chuckle, in a way that only she could. "It's funny really, I always thought that was your role in life but then he took that position from you."

"Oh? And what did I do to deserve this promotion?"

"You didn't kill my mother." She said as she looked directly at him. Her voice was quiet as a whisper and yet clear as a dagger's edge. Her eyes were strange now. Usually, they shone green like fire, burning with some scheme or deception but this time was different. They were hard and clear as cut emeralds. That was when Arraon knew that she was being completely sincere, and the fact of that chilled him to the bone.

"Neither did Tyrion, Cersei."

"As he came into the world, he caused her to bleed to death. I don't expect you to care about her, but it's because of him that she is dead."

Arraon considered her remark about Lady Joanna cruel, even for Cersei. He had loved her, in so far as he could, but he chose to ignore it rather than belabour the point with Cersei. "Murder requires intent. He did not intend that, he had no control over that."

"No, and pox carriers do not intend to spread their foul disease but it they do it all the same."

"The pox kills many. Even if I accept your premise, Tyrion only…killed your mother. There is no comparison for he will not harm anyone else."

"No," she said immediately with a worrying nerve in her voice, "You're wrong. He will kill us all one day, I know it. I know it. I know it."

Arraon could see that there was no bringing her out of this mad fantasy. "Well, if he does kill me, I promise to take him with me and then the two you hate will be gone forever."

"What are you talking about? I have never hated you."

"Everything you said to me through our childhood begs to differ."

"Arraon, you were an annoyance to me. Akin to the mud stains on my dress or a maid who chatters rather than work. You were the person who took me away from time with Jaime. Besides that, I barely thought of you, for what evils did you do to me? Even for Jewel, I have you to thank in some cosmic sense. But hate? No, that I reserve for the enemies of our family."

"Oh, so it is our family after all this time?"

"Well," Cersei protested through clenched teeth, "Maybe, perhaps, sort of. No, not at all. Not House Lannister proper…Alright, in the sense that we share some…things, I suppose so."

"That must be why you chose to come here tonight." Arraon said with a slight smirk. Cersei was not impressed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She asked in a frustrated tone and furrowed eyebrows.

Arraon set his sword to the side and slinked off the edge of the bed to the marble rung, closer to Cersei. He brought his hands between his knees as Daemon similarly rested his head on his leg. "Cersei, of all the nights that you could have come to discuss all of this, why did you choose tonight?"

"Because I wished to know if the allegations surrounding you were true is all."

"You could have found that out any other way. The truth, if you please. Why did you come to see me near the hour of the fox?"

Cersei looked as if she were musing what she might say as she opened her lips to speak several times before she closed them again. "In truth, I…wished to see how this had all affected you."

"To see if your reaction was justified?"

Cersei's face shot up at that and her eyes flashed with burning fire. "What in the name of all Seven Hells are you talking about? Reaction to what?!"

"Cersei…I know. Jaime told me."

"He told you?! That buffoon! He should have known to keep that a secret! What if someone overheard? What if someone else already knows? When did he tell you?" Cersei blurted out in what seemed like an instant.

"Oh, he didn't tell me. He simply did not answer my questions about it on the day the King named him to the Kingsguard, but I thank you for confirming my suspicions."

Cersei flashed with anger at that and gritted her teeth in frustration as her lips pouted before returning to their dignified form. Or, at least, what passed for dignified with Cersei. "Well, it hardly matters now, does it?"

"So?"

"So…what?"

"So, what do you regret?"

Cersei laughed. "I regret nothing. Jaime and I are but one person separated. When we joined that night, it felt more magical than anything in my life. The way he caressed me, touched me, tasted me-"

"Alright, alright," Arraon interrupted with a raised hand, "I didn't need to know the details."

"You asked."

"I asked what you regret."

"Who says that I regret anything?"

"Your presence here. Either you can tell me the truth Cersei or you can stop playing games and leave."

"I suppose…I regret what came after. Or, what didn't come after."

Arraon chose to ignore the obvious jest now she was being serious. "Ser Jaime said you could be together if he wore the white cloak and you were to wear a Targaryen one."

"Quite. Rhaegar could have me at night and I could be with Jaime by the day."

"Then you are fortunate your plan failed."

"Excuse me?"

"I would never allow you to cuckold Rhaegar."

"And you would have told Rhaegar to put a stop to it?"

"If I had to."

"I must say I'm surprised."

"Why is that?" Arraon asked curiously.

"On the night we were to be betrothed, Rhaegar told me you had extolled my virtues. Of how beautiful and gracious I was. Curious that you would foil your own plans then."

"I said the words I said to advance Father's cause. To do my part to help unify the Houses of Lannister and Targaryen, no more and no less."

"And now you would turn against House Lannister to assist your royal acquaintance?"

"I would do what is right for our family."

"How very dutiful of you." Cersei sneered. "Not that it matters now anyway. The Mad King foiled all our plans and stole Jaime for himself."

"And how did you feel about that?" Arraon believed they may have finally arrived at the point.

"I think you know." She said with a smile. "The hurt, the emptiness, the sorrow, the anger at what could have been and the remorse for what can never happen now. Still, it must be worse for you."

"Why is that?"

"Because Jaime will love me until our dying day. Your harlot shirked up her skirts and ran away as soon as she could."

"Yes," he admitted, "That does hurt."

"If it makes you feel any better, I could have her killed the next time I see her."

Arraon placed a hand upon his heart with a mocking expression. "You'd do that for me, the humble bastard?"

"What else is family for?" She said, and the two of them shared a laugh at that.

It was at that moment that Arraon began to see her in a different light. He knew she was still the devious, untrustworthy, cold, manipulative snake that he had known since before they could even talk but she seemed different now in a way that he could not express. He wondered if this was the side of her that Ser Jaime had found so alluring, but he doubted that as that must have only been the part of her she only allowed him to ever see. And yet, it was as if some side of her had been opened up like a book where before, he could only see a repulsive cover.

On the one hand, he wanted to believe she was being sincere but on the other, he supposed this could all just be one grand game for her to have wriggled a confession out of him. Though, he doubted she would go to all this trouble for that. And in a distant thought, he saw this moment as being the beginning of a grand new chapter in their relationship on the path to being close, affectionate siblings.

He silently prayed to every fucking god he could think of so that would not be the case.