Who: Ariel and Cersei Lannister What: Sizing each other up When: 9/5 Where: Ariel's shop and rooms above the shop Rating/Warning: PG13 for fade to black smuttiness Status: Complete
Cersei decided it was high time to take Emma’s advice, and pay the bookseller a visit. She wore a red top with the sort of neckline that meant business, and a matching skirt that flowed around her ankles. She could do the classy sort of sexy, as well as business sexy.
That, and she preferred skirts. She slipped into the shop and looked around. Myrcella would love it in here.
Ariel was feeling much more relaxed after finding a new dispensary. He hadn’t had a migraine in almost a week, and he was practically humming. He even smiled when he saw Mrs. Baratheon walk in. “Oh, hello, ma’am. How did your daughter like the books?”
“She adored them, thank you.” Cersei leaned on the counter and met his eyes. “I think I need to spoil her more often. I really shouldn’t, but I will. How have you been?”
She looked rather nice. Ariel had to wonder what she wanted. “Much better, actually. I suffer from migraine headaches, and they’ve begun to go away for now. Business is good. I can’t complain, ma’am.”
“That’s fortunate,” she replied, playing up her accent a little bit. “Any new.. recommendations?”
“For your daughter? I’m sure I can find something.” Ariel smiled. “More folk tales?”
“That would be fine. I was also hoping you’d have something of a more adult fare, for myself.” She raised her eyebrows at him.
“It depends how adult.” Ariel said, looking over at her. He couldn’t help but be amused. “We have a few things that are a bit scandalous.”
“Now I’m curious. I don’t mind a little bit of scandal every now and again. It makes life exciting.”
That actually earned her some points with him. Ariel had thought her a stuck up prig, but a little scandal helped everyone. “Well.” He thought a minute. “I do have some etchings from 1910 or so; they were done for basically the fore-runner of Playboy in America. An actress in Hollywood dared to show her ankles.” He laughed.
"Now you've got me curious," Cersei replied. They were probably really tame, but they would still be interesting and something to laugh over. "These days there is more skin showing than not."
“It’s true, and forgive me, but it’s a little silly. Whatever happened to imagination?” Ariel handed the sketches to Cersei, amused. “Just a hint of skin is more exotic in my mind.”
“I could show you a hundred ways to tantalize a man with less skin than I’m showing now,” Cersei promised, tone light and mirthful.
“Could you.” Ariel didn’t shoot her down. It had been some time since he’d been with a woman, and frankly he missed it. And she wouldn’t expect anything beyond that.
“I could,” she replied, trailing her finger in a light circle on the counter-top. “If I was of a mood for it.”
“I have long since thought that women were possessed of magical powers,” Ariel replied, not entirely unamused. “Perhaps you could settle the issue.”
Cersei laughed. “We are. But that’s a trade secret and if I told you, then I’d have to cut out your tongue. That would be a waste of talent.”
“And just what kind of talents do you think I have, Mrs. - Lannister?” He belatedly remembered she disliked her married name. He wondered why, but he wasn’t about to ask. That would involve him in more than he cared to know about.
“Call me Cersei.” She was happy he’d chosen that name, and happier still he didn’t ask any questions. Questions were awkward, and she didn’t want to be awkward. “I believe you do have a way with words, Ariel. You do work in a book store.”
“Perhaps, but it does not make me Shakespeare.” Ariel smiled. “A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.”
“I never said if you were a fool, or wise. Only that you’ve a way with words. So, do you know yourself to be a fool?” Cersei smiled at him, her head tilted at a certain angle to emphasize the curve of her neck.
“I think I am a fool.” Ariel said. “For many, many reasons.” He was thinking of Margarita, in spite of himself.
It made him bold. “Are you flirting with me, Cersei?”
“Yes,” she replied, evenly and without any hesitation. He’d called her out on it, and that deserved recognition. “I could stop, but then where’s the fun in that?”
“You don’t have to. I’ve also learned it’s folly to stop a woman from doing what she wants.” Gently teasing, maybe - she was imperious - but also pleased.
“And if that thing I wanted was to see if you were as talented with your tongue as you were with words?” She was really glad she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.
He hadn’t actually expected a woman like her to be so blunt and borderline crude, and it made him laugh. “My good woman. The only question I would ask is if your husband is in this country.” He didn’t judge her - he was an expert on unhappy relationships - but he wouldn’t court a beating or angry children for an ephemeral thrill.
What could Cersei say? She liked to fuck and sometimes crass language could be a little fun. A lot of the time. "He's in England and probably in bed with someone right now." Her tone was dismissive, and borderline aggressive. She wasn't sure if she hated Robert or hated him.
“You understand why I inquire.” Ariel shrugged. She was very attractive, in a hard sort of way. He came around the counter, going to lock the door and put the closed sign on the door. “I live up here,” he told her, pointing to a staircase roped off in the corner. “I got the entire building for a song.” He kept waiting for something to be wrong with it, but nothing had happened yet.
“Now, is that literal, or figurative,” she asked, genuinely curious as she leaned back against the counter to watch him. She could feel her pulse speed up in anticipation. It wasn’t as much the sex (though that was always nice), it was the infidelity that got her going.
“Getting the building for a song? Figurative. You don’t want me singing.” Ariel beckoned her toward the staircase. “I would offend every ear for miles, I’m afraid. But hopefully not the eyes.” He wasn’t asking for a compliment, just differentiating. He was fairly sure this was just an ‘I’m bored’ type of encounter, and that suited him fine. He was bored, too.
“I’ve heard some horrible singing in my time,” Cersei assured him, letting herself be beckoned. “But you’re definitely one of the easier things I’ve looked at.” Flattery got one everywhere.
He wondered if it was flattery, as opposed to a genuine compliment, and decided he didn’t care. He got lonely sometimes. “Up here.” Ariel made an after-you gesture for the lady, glad he’d cleaned that morning. He had a set of rooms on the second floor, with old-style furnishings in big, heavy wood.
She smiled at him, and brushed her fingers along his arm as she walked past him. “Your home is beautiful.” She sounded genuine.
He decided to take her at her word. “Thank you. I fear I have an old soul. Too much modernity tends to just upset me.” He wasn’t a Luddite by any means, but he preferred old style furniture, old style surroundings.
“It’s very elegant.” She appreciated elegance. She understood more now just why she did. At least it wasn’t all animal parts and weapons everywhere. That just got boring.
“I try. I appreciate order, and with order often comes elegance. It has to.” Ariel shrugged. “You seem as though you would grasp that very well, actually.”
“It’s something I’m learning to appreciate very much,” Cersei replied. She didn’t want to get too much into it. This couldn’t be anything more than it already was - her heart was with another and her hand to Robert. But it could be a hell of a lot of fun.
“So.” Ariel saw her gaze turn away. “As long as we understand each other, I think I’d be willing for you to show me what you want.”
“As long as it’s mutual. I’d rather not be the only one getting something out of this.” She smiled at him, and it actually reached her eyes. She popped open one button on her blouse, and then another, but didn’t look away from his face.
He wasn’t entirely sure what she expected, but he’d seen women in various states of undress before. “I will warn you,” Ariel said calmly, “I do like it a bit rough.”
Cersei tilted her head and looked him square in the eye. “Then you better fuck me until I’m sore.”
Her crudity interested him, if only because it signified hidden depths to her glib beauty. “I think that can be arranged.” Ariel beckoned her into his bedroom, if only because he had some supplies in there.
Once they had crossed the threshold, however, he grabbed her and kissed her, pushing her back against the wall.
Cersei groaned, responding almost immediately to the forcefulness of his kiss. It felt good to let loose, and put the prim and proper lady away. She kissed him back, hard and hungry.
Ha, he’d been right. He felt somehow vindicated, that it was a facade. Ariel smirked something awful as he divested her of her skirt. He allowed her to pull and tear at his clothes if she was so inclined. How down and dirty would she get?
Dirty enough to pop any buttons she could and force her hands into his shirt and trousers. She even bit at his lip and sucked at it, moving her body against his wantonly.
After wine, this was her favorite pastime.
He was quite all right with that. Even aside from her talent at this kind of thing, he liked that he’d been right about her, that the prim facade hid more. He’d been wrong at first, but talking to her had set him right. Ariel sighed loudly, shrugging his shirt off and trying to make sure they were both as naked as possible.
She talked dirty, too, using language that would shock most members of her family and everyone in her circle of friends. She never pleaded, though there were times she came close to begging. Cersei also liked to explore with her hands. It had been a little too long since the last time with a man.
He rather liked it, though. He hadn’t been lying when he said he liked it rough; after he’d taken acceptable precautions, he’d had her in a way that would leave bruises on her back and bottom. He didn’t particularly care what infidelities she chose within her marriage; she’d promised to keep him out of it. And it had felt good to have a woman who let him do it the way he wanted to.
She might be able to walk after, and even disguise how wobbly she felt. She was sore in the very best of ways, and what’s more she felt somewhat ecstatic that she was still desirable. That she could still get into a complete stranger’s pants.
And maybe she still liked and respected him, which was good. She liked his shop and wanted to still shop there without it being awkward.
“I needed that. Thank you.” She draped an arm around him and stroked at his chest, deciding to stay just long enough. But not too long.
He understood, and besides, he wasn’t about to toss a lady out on her ass two minutes after coitus. “I needed that as well, in truth.” He had. It had been a long time, and it was a sensation one didn’t entirely forget. He’d worried he’d think about Margarita, but he hadn’t at all. If nothing else, he owed Cersei a debt for that.
She wouldn't mind it again, but she was too smart to ask for that, and knew he was too wary to suggest it. "Been awhile? That's a damn shame if so."
“Almost since my divorce.” Ariel chuckled. “I’ve worked too hard.”
“Learn to play a little harder, and you’ll be happier for it,” Cersei said, speaking from experience.
“Maybe now that the store is set up. Especially now, since I’m trying to get custody of my daughter.” Ariel sighed. He didn’t go into it any further, though; even though Cersei might have understood.
She nodded her head. “I wish you luck with that. Children are the absolutely most important thing in our lives. At least until we can kick them out of the nest.” She smirked.
“I’d settle for seeing her.” Ariel couldn’t entirely let it go, but he recovered. “We’ll see what happens, I suppose.” He had to accept a certain degree of fate in life, if only because he might hang it up otherwise.
She rubbed his chest a little again, then gently scratched her nails down the center. She thought about it, then wondered if she could wield any of her family influence. She resolved to try.
He rather liked that, in truth. Any emotion was a chance to feel alive. And if nothing else, Cersei had helped him feel a little more alive than usual. “I’m grateful, you know,” he said, “that you came sashaying in here brazenly ignoring the sanctity of your marriage vows.”
“Never marry for money, especially when you already have it,” she replied, her laugh sardonic. “But I have some wonderful children out of it, so it wasn’t a waste. Could I help in some way? With yours?”
His first instinct was to laugh - he didn’t know anything about her family, but if they were all like her, he’d owe someone his soul when she was done with him. But he considered, and said, “My daughter’s mother doesn’t approve of the fact that I use medical marijuana to treat my migraines. She thinks those two things make me unstable, and ‘not a fit parent’.” That phrase, so carefully uttered, had obviously figured in his nightmares. “Given she’s quite the drunk, I find it ironic.”
But at any rate. “I was thinking of asking for a temporary visit - perhaps two weeks or a month - before I press for full custody. Would you think that was a good idea? Or perhaps know a family lawyer who might have a better idea?” He couldn’t afford much.
Soul, probably. Cersei liked it when people owed her. She liked to hold their balls in her nails and squeeze. “Let me guess. She drinks “socially”?”” Cersei raised her eyebrows. She thought he had an actual case, though. If he could prove the medical records in front of a sympathetic judge and the mother’s drunkenness…
“Easing into it and showing you’re capable would help. I can refer you to one of my family lawyers, if you like.”
“Socially would be the word she uses, yes.” Ariel rolled his eyes. He chose his words carefully. “I would appreciate a referral, but they’ll either take me on with what I can pay, or not at all.”
“That’s fair,” Cersei replied, diplomatically. He didn’t want to be owned, she understood that. She wouldn’t even hold it over his head - he brought joy to Myrcella and made her feel human again, so she considered it a fair trade.
He allowed himself to smile, once she said that. “I’m also man enough to admit I was wrong about you, you know.” Ariel said gravely. “I thought you were a stuck-up harpy. I’m pleased to see you’re only a harpy.” He doubted she’d be angry; this woman knew exactly what she was.
She laughed. “I’d cop to being stuck up, but I suppose I could be a little bit like a harpy.”
“Let me try again.” Ariel shrugged. “You are very determined and know what you want, but you do actually have human needs and wants.” He chuckled.
“Perfect.” She kissed him. “You’ve earned a gold star and my solemn promise to only meddle as much as you want me to.”
Well, he’d be a fool to trust that promise. Then again, he was a fool in most situations. Ariel just smiled. “Feel free to take your time refreshing yourself,” was all he said. He tried to be a gentleman.
“Thank you.” She sat up slowly in bed, not bothering to cover herself. She glanced at him, then slipped out of bed and padded to his shower. Cleaning up was pretty imperative!
He could guess. Even if her husband was out of the country, it was a matter of one’s own perception. Ariel ducked into the other, smaller bathroom, disposing of the protection and washing his face. He supposed he ought to regret helping Cersei cheat on her husband, and yet, he couldn’t find it in him to do so.
Cersei didn’t take too long. It wasn’t her shower and she didn’t want to presume. But she did clean herself up, and by the time she stepped out she looked refreshed. “Ariel?”
“Yes?” He’d come back into the bedroom after freshening up.
“Just wanted to thank you again, before I left,” She replied, looking him over, with an appraising sort of expression on her face.