Cersei had never been the type of woman to love an infant. They were small and fragile and weak; the very essence of the things she detested. And, though she felt an inkling of affection for the pale, girl creature that seemed forever nestled into her husband's arms she couldn't shake the feeling that the infant reminded her far too much of the imp.

She could remember when she was a young girl who had looked into the creature's cradle and saw nothing but a small, ugly monster. A baby with wrinkles upon its head and limbs that were peculiarly short.

Her child had perfect limbs and the quaintest of rosebud lips. But, there were wrinkles upon her tiny fingers and forehead. It was as if she had birthed the tiniest of elders. The babe had no hair, but for a downy covering of white on top of her head. And her eyes bore the trademark newborn blue, but the rims spoke of an uncanny resemblance to violet.

She was a Targaryen. And so she was aptly named after one. Rhaenys. Her husband had whispered the name only once. So soft that she thought it was one of his lyrics. He had visited her so rarely when she had been with child that she had remembered every word he said.

He had shown up unexpectedly. She was far gone then and her belly seemed to stretch like a canvas before her. Rhaegar was a strange man, she had decided, timid in one instance but firm in his power and position in another. He had been cautious then. His steps were straightforward, though when he reached forward to place his palm upon her belly he had seemed nervous.

They spoke so seldom it seemed strange that he would ask her how she fared. And, yet he did. Cersei had been taken aback and had stuttered out a response, something highly uncharacteristic of her. She suspected he enjoyed when she could not plan a well-timed and clever response. Much like the time he had found her with Jaime she wondered if he enjoyed boring into her soul and seeing the true creature that she was.

But as quickly as he came he always left. It had been no different than the two times he had bed her. Once on their wedding night and the other to make the baby. He would make the effort to catch her off-guard, but once he himself came to close to releasing his inner thoughts he retreated to his sanctuaries. He had left quickly that day, disappearing to think and mull over thoughts only he could transpire. But as he left he stopped. His hand stayed him in the doorway and he turned only an inch so the profile of his face was visible to her eye. His words seemed to hang before he spoke and it was only one word that escaped. Rhaenys.

"But, what if it's a boy?" She had demanded, because she was a Lannister and she was sure if she was bearing him a child the first one would be what she willed it to be. He had simply shook his head and retreated from her chambers leaving her alone with nothing but a babe in her belly and a name that meant nothing.

A/N: I've changed my mind. The story will not be completely chronological. It feels more organic to me for it to be a series of moments that coexist in a rather nonlinear progression. Also, it's not purely Cersei, but this chapter of the series has a strong emphasis on the beginnings of her character. I plan to do the same for all the other characters as my own sort of introduction.