Miya 18. INTJ.Ravenclaw with Slytherin aspirations. Curmudgeon with delusions of grandeur. Lover of film, television (usually flawed, for writer reasons),history, literature, art, musicals, smoked salmon and Gothic vaulting. Movie music makes me cry. And that's just about the gist of it.
To her credit, Cersei did not look away. “He saw us. You love your children, do you not?” Robert had asked him the very same question, the morning of the melee. He gave her the same answer. “With all my heart.” “No less do I love mine.” Ned thought, If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon’s life, against the children of her body? He did not know. He prayed he never would.
Not knowing how long this game might continue, Catelyn wasted no time. “Are you Joffrey’s father?” “You would never ask unless you knew the answer.” “I want it from your own lips.” He shrugged. “Joffrey is mine. As are the rest of Cersei’s brood, I suppose.” “You admit to being your sister’s lover?” “I’ve always loved my sister.”