for nearamir.

[reignfall]

Traditionally, the Lannisters may hail from Britain, attend the British wizarding school, and buy out the British wizarding government, but they tend to prefer living somewhere warm, reasonably sunny, and french. Cersei herself does not think she is built for the Scottish winter, or autumn, or spring. She is built to do precisely what her cat, Tybolt, does right now: curl up in her warm four-poster bed.

Instead, she is headed towards the library.

On a Saturday morning.

Yes, a morning. Before noon.

It's wholly Faramir's fault, by the way - no one told him to be so handsome, with dreamy, storm-grey eyes, and long, soft hair. It's a problem that has lead her to make several bewildering choices - like picking Care of Magical Creatures as a elective, and now this. But she is a witch on a mission, and she shan't be derailed by simpler pleasures. If she doesn't get what she wants today, she might have to start hexing her rivals to feel better.

Thankfully, he is extremely reliable, and she can already see him at his usual spot by the window, behind which an uncomfortable (for Cersei) amount of snow is falling. She ignores the librarian ("I have seen you more often in the library this year than in all the previous terms combined, Miss Lannister") and pretends to look at some of the books in a nearby shelf, before 'noticing' him.

"Oh, good morning. You are up early."

Comments

[nearamir]

Faramir - who was up well before the sun this morning, considering how short the days are now - starts and looks up, his quill still poised over the page. His expression, for a moment, reads a very clear Who, me?, before it softens into a little smile.

He knows Cersei, of course. Firstly, because it is difficult not to know who Cersei Lannister is, and she seems to take personal offence to the idea that anyone might not; secondly, because her twin is on Boromir's Quidditch team and Boromir has never been one to let his little brother stay out of Gryffindor's business; and thirdly, because she does keep turning up in places where he happens to be.

A little too often to be coincidental, frankly. He isn't entirely sure what she's looking for, or why she doesn't come out and say it - it isn't as though she seems shy about most things - but he is more than prepared to wait, and give her whatever space she might happen to need. She'll say whatever she needs to, when she needs to. In the meantime...

Well. He doesn't exactly mind.

"Good morning." He looks down at his notes - several pages of his neat, flowing handwriting - and then, after a moment, sets down his quill. "Potions?"

[reignfall]

Cersei's world is full of odd rules - for instance, it is the boy's job to ask her out. It has never been any different. Except Faramir seems shy, or reluctant (or, gasp, perhaps not interested), but then, he has not asked anyone else out, either. Not that she has noticed, and, well, she has paid attention, very close attention, since their fourth year. Hell, she has paid a fourth year Ravenclaw seven galleons for a copy of Faramir's schedule, so she can coincidentally run into him throughout the day.

"Po...?" She looks at the book she is holding, and, yes, indeed, it is a potions book, they are in the potions section, and there is some sort of essay due right before the holidays, so it would likely be smart to start now.

Or at least find someone to write it for her, so all she needs to do is copy it. "Yes, potions, there is that... thing we have due, isn't there?"

She takes the book to his desk, and sits down across from him. She has learned from previous remarks, and brought her school bag. "I need to put some effort in, I think Tyrell, that old hag, has it out for me."

[nearamir]

Privately, Faramir cannot help but think that Professor Tyrell, like most of the teachers, would probably have it in for Cersei less if she were a little more polite about her disinterest. Based on his experiences in their shared classes, he can see why they might not like her particularly.

Which isn't an insult. He can admire her forthrightness and the value she puts on her time, and it is no bad thing to know one's limits and interest. It's just that, perhaps, she could stand to be a little more tactful about it.

All of which is to say that he doesn't mean to address her comment about Tyrell. Instead, he just reaches across the desk, holding his hand out. "May I see that?"

[reignfall]

It does not help that this term's Faramir-approach has required her to spend quite some time in the library, studying just to be close to him, or having him explain things to her just to hear the dark, gentle rumbling of his voice - all of which results in a drastic improvement to her grades. Something that implies the intelligence is there, she just does not care to use it.

And why would she? Her brother is supposed to join their father at the ministry. Cersei is supposed to marry rich.

"Of course." She hands him the book (of course, she makes sure to brush her hand against his, she's no beginner). "Are you planning on working all day?"

[nearamir]

"Only until this is done." He nods down at his parchment, taking the book from her and turning it to look at the spine. "Then, I thought I might take a walk in the grounds. If the snow lets up a little, in any case. The lake looks beautiful in this weather."

He considers a moment more, and then holds the book back out to her. "You would be more than welcome to join me, if you like. And I would suggest that, if you're trying to get Tyrell's good graces, you don't use this one. The section on ingredients is shaky at best. Here, this is what I've been working from."

He pushes his own pile of books towards her, with a warmer smile.

[reignfall]

It dawns on her that she is genuinely going to spend her morning working on this essay. In fact, this realisation hits before she has fully digested the news that he has asked her out. On a romantic walk in the snow. By the lake. Alone. This honestly trumps her idea of asking him to go to Hogsmeade with her - the chance of firewhiskey and the risk of encountering either of their brothers basically even out, anyway.

And he smiles at her. She is about ready to skip the walk and move right to the part where they warm each other up.

“Thank you. And the walk sounds like a lovely first date.” Bold, but honestly, if she doesn’t go for it today, she might lose her mind. “Maybe we can warm up with some mulled wine afterwards.”

[nearamir]

He blinks, startled despite himself. A lovely first date. Not that he's against it, not by any means, but...

Well. She's Cersei Lannister. He has a realistic opinion of himself, or so he likes to think: he is handsome enough, and intelligent enough, and he is, where possible, kind and thoughtful, and he is, objectively speaking, a good prospect. But he is also himself, and Boromir is right there, and all that he is, and older and more thoroughly appealing, and he had just assumed, if Cersei was setting her sights on either of them, it would not be him.

And yet, he has to admit: a lot of things have just fallen into place.

He smiles again, a little more softly, and nods. Yes. A lovely first date. He can work with that.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise that dating was an option." He has never been less than honest. "But, yes, if you would like it to be one: will you walk with me later?"

[reignfall]

Boromir is handsome, granted, and quite similar to her brother in terms of personality, at least when it mattered. She has seen his abs and she has enjoyed it. Faramir is more handsome, though, and his eyes are so soulful, and he has the spirit of an artist who would paint portraits of her, or write her songs and poems about her beauty, and he is smart.

And his smile could make her melt.

"I would be more than happy to." She smiles, too, and not her usual show-smile, either. This one is genuine. "Dating has been an option for a while," since fourth, or maybe even third year, "I was going to ask you out today no matter what."

[nearamir]

The difference in her smile is marked, and it strikes him that it makes her far more beautiful - and she was already beautiful. He laughs, less with amusement than with wonder, and reaches over on impulse to touch her hand.

"You should have said something sooner." Knowing, as he says it, that it is his mistake not to notice sooner: now that it has been pointed out, it is so obvious. "I had thought you would set your sights higher."

Meaning, of course, on Boromir. And his abs.

[reignfall]

She cannot have her blouse more unbuttoned than this if she doesn't want to risk an owl home - what more could she have done? She read several books this year, and it is wholly his fault. She stays awake in History of Magic on a regular basis because it is one of the few classes they share! She is doing something for potions - not right now, but inevitably over the course of the morning - and it has nothing at all to do with poisons, one of the few areas she is genuinely interested in.

"Had I known you would gladly agree, I might have." It would have spared her a lot of yearning. But then, he says something about her eyes set higher, and the confusion on her face isn't just momentarily. Does he mean Jaime? Surely he must know he is smarter than her brother, never even mind the whole matter of incest. Besides he's a prefect, so in terms of rank, this is about as good as it gets, and he's sure to make head boy next year. Who is higher up?

"... Professor Grey?" Also called Gandalf the Grey, the headmaster? She laughs, and happily takes his hand in hers. "I am not sure whom you could mean, to be honest."

[nearamir]

It is strange, to realise that she truly does not know what he is talking about. Strange, and decidedly pleasant, for a boy who has spent all his life in his brother's shadow. (And the truth is, even in a different House, he is in his brother's shadow: it is not only that Boromir is popular among Gryffindors, but he is popular with the professors, too, and with younger schoolmates, and certainly with girls; he is Head Boy, and Quidditch Captain, and altogether the image of a successful young wizard. Faramir has never particularly tried to compete with that, only accepted it as the natural way of things, and been glad for his brother's success. But it is still pleasant, to find that he has something that appeals to her where Boromir, apparently, does not.)

He looks down at their linked hands, and then up at her, and he laughs, too. "Perhaps not that high. I was thinking more of Gryffindor Tower than of the Headmaster's." And he means to say no more of it. It is enough that, apparently, this is not some strange error on her part, or some scheme to get to Boromir through him - that it is, in fact, he that she was waiting to ask. "And I would have asked sooner, myself; but if you were not interested, then I was afraid to embarrass us both."

[reignfall]

Jaime?! No, unreasonable - and then it does finally occur to her that he thinks of Boromir, and the pieces fall into place. Boromir is handsome, a talented quidditch player, appropriately popular. The older brother. And for a while, she had considered the possibility - they would look great in photographs, admired or envied by all. It would be excellent, on paper, and that is what matters. More than the spark should.

Except she feels the spark with Faramir, who is slightly more handsome, definitely more clever, and distinctly more mysterious, and deep. "I am very confident in my taste."

She smiles, and yes, that's less calculation and more the giddy happiness of a teenage girl who has scored a date with the boy she has had a crush on for ages. "I was beginning to worry that you weren't interested," not that that's possible, but she has moments of weakness, "and I couldn't think about it any longer."

[nearamir]

There is an honesty in that smile which, if he was not already attracted to her, would be enough on its own to assure it. She is, it strikes him, the most beautiful girl he has ever seen; and all he wants, for this moment, is to see her smile in such thoughtless joy more often, to be the cause of such delight.

He smiles at her, his eyes a little softer than they were, and leans over the desk to brush a kiss against her cheek. "Then I am glad you happened upon me here." As though he isn't well aware, in hindsight, that there was nothing coincidental about it. "I think it saved us both some time."