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The wine that evening flowed freely, the dancing was careless, the laughter bellowing, and conversation sweet. Catelyn sat on a raised dais, with Edmure’s vacant chair at her left, Cersei Lannister at her right. Both girl were pleasantly flushed from the wine they’d consumed as the hours dragged on. Catelyn, Lysa and Edmure’s septa had taken ill and both Hoster and Tywin were too occupied to notice their daughters drinking a little more wine than was good for them.
“Let’s dance!” Catelyn announced gayly to her companion. Cersei eyed her with surprise.
“In case you haven’t noticed, nobody’s asked us,” she replied.
In truth, some boys and young men had come to ask, but the girls had been enjoying the company of a peer too much to relent the pleasant conversation - as much as Catelyn loved to dance. They were seven and ten, in ‘the prime of their youth’, as many would describe them, both beautiful in their own way. In all her golden beauty, Cersei was the rising sun of the West. With her green eyes and curls that had the colour of sunlight filtering through leaves, she had the beauty of spring.
Catelyn, though splendidly stunning, paled a little in comparison to her companion. Her auburn curls had the beauty of the last rays of the sun before it set, her eyes were the deep blue of the water that ran past her home. Her beauty was one of autumn days, when the leaves turned red and orange and caught the light, and when raindrops dappled the grass.
Catelyn shrugged, making the curls that framed her face, flowing down to her shoulder, bounce. She smiled at the lioness. “We can dance together.”
Cersei swirled the remaining wine in her goblet as she considered the suggestion.
“What are you afraid of Cersei? I thought lions didn't care about the opinions of sheep,” Catelyn purred. The wine had made her bold and daring, less reserved than her usual self. Cersei narrowed her eyes.
“We don’t.”
Catelyn stood gracefully despite the amount of alcohol she’d consumed. The legs of her chair scraped over the floor, but the room was too noisy for it to be heard. Once up on her feet, she extended a slender hand to Cersei, her brows raised in a challenge. “Well then?”
Cersei’s beautiful green eyes flicked to the extended hand. In the light of the flickering candles and torches, the flecks of gold in her irises were even more mesmerising than they had been before - Catelyn almost felt compelled to count them. The blonde took her hand resolutely, rising with as much grace as her friend had only seconds before. They found themselves standing only hair widths apart, the smooth silk of the bodices of their gowns brushing when both took a rather sharp breath, until Catelyn stepped back, a becoming blush spreading from her face down to the column of her throat. It was Cersei who first found her voice again.
“Shall we?” she tilted her head to the side questioningly, glancing to her right where the dancers moved to cheerful tunes - some gracefully, others stiff and sloppy. Catelyn nodded and pulled Cersei along to the area that had been cleared for dancing. The girls giggled as they clumsily weaved their way through the dancing couples - undecided on who should lead. It was Cersei who eventually took the role, being the most dominant one of the two of them, born to reign as queen, princess at the very least , Catelyn reflected. She’d noticed that the other woman disliked being told no, which might have annoyed her in others, but in a way was charming in the lioness.
Catelyn and Cersei danced until Hoster thought it proper that his daughter should retire. Tywin agreed that his own should follow, so the girls found themselves walking through the corridors on their way to their respective rooms. In some corridors, the torhces had gone out, leaving only the pale moonlight that shone through the high windows to light their way.
Catelyn glanced to Cersei who walked next to her in amicable silence, the well formed lines of her profile illuminated by silvery light.
“You know,” she said softly, “you are as beautiful as the stories say you are.”
Cersei’s eyes turned to her curiously, the golden flecks the only thing that was clearly visible about them in the relative dark.
“Yet I’m the one who’s not betrothed, while you’re to wed Brandon Stark,” Catelyn could hear the hurt pride in Cersei’s voice. She remembered that her father had always told her Tywin had meant for his daughter to marry Rhaegar, “Is he as handsome as they say?”
Catelyn blushed thinking about Brandon. He was handsome, and charming. Charming enough to have stolen a few kisses the brief times they’d met. “Yes,” she said without hesitation. By now they’d reached the door to Cersei’s chambers, both of them slipped through, settling in front of the window on pillows thrown hastily on the floor.
“Did you kiss him yet?”
Catelyn’s head whipped to the side at Cersei’s bold question, her eyes widening and the blush turning even redder if possible. Cersei shrugged carelessly. “You’re to marry him.”
She looked down, her lashes brushing her cheek. “I have,” she confessed, “once or twice.” Cersei laughed.
“Have you ever been kissed?” Catelyn wondered. If Cersei could ask her so personal a thing, she ought to expect a question in return. Her friend smirked. “Plenty.” Her skinny shoulders shook as she shrugged, without a hint of the shyness or embarrassment that Catelyn had felt at the confession. Cat’s eyes drifted to the blonde girl’s lips, suddenly curious what it would feel like to be kissed by her.
It was only now that she realised Cersei’s nearness brought her a similar burning warmth and buzz to the one Brandon’s did. Her mind was too muddled to think about what that meant however.
Boldened by the wine and her wondering, Catelyn leaned forward. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to kiss a woman…”
It’s just a game, she thought, like when she had kissed Petyr under that tree when they were just children; it didn’t feel like a game though, not really.
“Are you daring me Catelyn Tully?” Cersei raised her brows, studying Catelyn’s face in surprise. Of all the people she’d thought could ever be so bold as to dare her to kiss them, Cersei had probably never thought Catelyn could be one.
“Yes,” Catelyn replied, raising her own brows to match Cersei’s expression with smug expectation.
“Then I accept.” Cersei’s pride hardly ever did allow her to turn down a dare. She leaned forward and met the redhead’s lips with hers.
The kiss surprised Catelyn at first. However, she was quick to regain her wits - or what she had left of them - and match the movement of Cersei’s lips with her own. She raised a hand to cup Cersei’s cheek. The lioness’ lips felt so blessedly soft, her skin smooth under Catelyn’s fingertips. Cersei’s hands tangled in her hair, clutching gently at the auburn tresses. She opened her mouth to trail Catelyn’s lips with her tongue. Catelyn obediently followed her lead by parting her lips.
By the time the two girls parted they were both flushed and breathless, Catelyn’s hair messed up by Cersei’s hands. Catelyn blushed hotly. She’d never been kissed like that.
She hurriedly pushed herself to her feet. “I- I should go to bed,” she stammered, frightful to admit what the kiss had made her feel. After all, it was just a game.
Cersei met Catelyn’s panicked glance with steady eyes, though Catelyn thought she looked almost regretful at her leaving. “You needn’t go,” Cersei said.
“It’s late…”
“You can stay here. No one would mind.”
Catelyn’s mind was reeling. She wanted to stay, she wanted desperately to stay, but she couldn’t. Not after… Oh why had it felt so good ? She shook her head and smiled a sunny smile at her companion. “No, Edmure sometimes has nightmares and seeks me out,” It wasn’t a lie, “I enjoyed myself tonight Cersei, thank you.” Before Cersei could reply Catelyn had hurried to the door and disappeared behind it with steps soft and quiet as a doe.
This time when Catelyn made her way through the corridors, the moon was overcast with clouds and the last remaining torches had gone out as well. From somewhere else in the castle the sounds of drunken songs reached her ears. Cat avoided the corridor it came from, knowing better than to stumble into drunken men at this time of the night. She took a detour to arrive in her room, almost stumbling over a lower riverlord passed out in the hall on the way.
Once she’d closed the heavy wooden doors behind her, her fingers running over the comfortingly familiar carvings, Catelyn let out a sigh. She made it.
She prepared for bed methodically, every step a well practiced habit by now; first she removed the light makeup she wore, then she pulled the pins from her hair and brushed it until it shone, only then she removed her dress and replaced it by a nightgown. Usually all of that took her about half an hour, now it took her an hour for the wine had made her slightly clumsy.
When at last she was done, an exhausted Catelyn crawled into her bed, pulling the sheets up to her nose and immediately falling into a deep sleep.
That night and nights for months to follow, all she dreamt about was Cersei’s lips.