Lancel Lannister

M as in middle, I remember. Thank you so much for forwarding this to me, I greatly appreciate it.

I hope you are doing well, and thank you once again. I’ll let you know if I decide to go up there.

Not a problem! Let me know if you have any questions, I'll be happy to help. Perhaps I'll see you nex

"You’re her older brother, you’re supposed to be that way." She stated as if the same went for her. Well, it did, it was just…very complicated, especially as of late. It disconcerted her a bit, just a bit, nothing to make her second guess anything about what either of her brothers do. 

Daenerys pictured his sister as a little kid, not someone in their teens. It was just the way he spoke of her, and it reminded her startling of her own brother. Surely Viserys was the same way, back then. Though he was much younger, where the pet and protection definition were still well-meaning. And even still, they are for her own good. He was only trying to protect her. He was always trying to protect her. Though could he protect her from himself? The question prompted an immediate no from her subconscious, and she felt her smile fall as she berated herself.

It was complicated, was the only excuse she could provide with herself. It’s not his fault, and if it was, it was just as much her’s as well.

"M as in middle," She repeated with a smirk upon her lips. “Well, both of your siblings are sure to be very lucky. Just the way you speak of your little sister. You must care a lot for them." She said softly, taking another sip from her glass. While he practically bared his soul on the subject of siblings, Daenerys wasn’t so sure it would be wise for her to do the same. Her family life was private, and no one understood completely, and then they didn’t even want to understand. 

She stood there, trying not to fold her arms protectively across her middle. That would be frowned upon. She suddenly wanted to excuse herself, but there was no proper reason for it. It wasn’t dreadful conversation, only now it had halted. She couldn’t go on about her brothers, and furthermore, her family. 

Daenerys doesn't offer anything about her family in return, Lancel notes not without curiosity. He hasn't told her anything someone who knew only the tiniest bit about his family didn't already know, or could have easily guessed at, at the very least. But that in itself is answer enough about the Targaryen family, he supposes.

He nods in understanding when Daenerys begins to excuse herself. Their conversation, while not awkward, was beginning to stall, and while he could probably lock her in it for a while longer by rolling off more of the same meaningless pleasantries everybody else was telling her, it would most likely have the opposite effect of what he'd intended.

(Of what Cersei had intended, but he'd prefer not to think of it like that.)

He was muttering something to himself, something along the lines that he should’ve done something sooner. He ignored what his subconscious had been telling him. Janei sees that as potentially dangerous. “You musn’t do that…Ignore the signs. They’re there, and you can see them for a reason." Of course, Janei has no idea what she’s actually talking about, but it makes her feel better to at least have some input. Maybe Lancel will think of her as a young adult, and not just a little sister who always needs protecting.

She watches his hand hold her’s and smiles briefly, “Good." She says softly, she’s glad her brother is glad, but was there another option? Surely not, but it’s different this time. This is a different type of glad, which Janei amounts to circumstance. Her brother is glad because he had wanted to be alone, but that’s not what he needed, Janei knows that. She doesn’t know how, but she does. 

"It's not that easy," he says quietly, starting into his cup. The signs, yeah. They'd been there. Looking at it now, sitting here in his kitchen with a swollen face and only a vague memory of how he got it, it seems pretty obvious to him. Ami had been one walking, talking, flashy sign. And yet… "One day, you'll understand. And believe me, I wish you didn't, because it fucking sucks." He sucks in a breath and sheepishly glances up at Janei. "Sorry. Language, I know. Don't pick that up from me, or mum will kill me, even though the Bible says not to."

Message : hey man, you wanna come over for pizzas and a rambo marathon?

[He waits for a moment, frowning. It’s been a while since he’s spoken to Lancel. He had seen him, briefly at the gala, but had been preoccupied with keeping Mya entertained]

message: i'm good! i mean i had a gf now i don't and it sucked but I'm over it

"Just because you were wrong, it doesn’t make you an idiot. Although, you still are an idiot." She grins at her brother’s mop of hair, “I thought she was rather nice, so it wasn’t just you." She twists her tea mug around on the table, mulling over what her brother has said so far.

"I should've known better though. I knew better, damn it, and I ignored it." He bumps his head on the table once in frustration, and immediately wishes he didn't when a white hot flash of pain shoots through his skull. He lifts his head up again and rubs his forehead.

In the next cabinet, she finds two heavy mugs perfect for tea. Pouring the steaming water inside them, she turns off the burner and puts the kettle back on the stove. Janei opens her bag of tea bags and places one in each of the cups. Luckily, she sees a bowl of sugar already on the table, so she makes her way over, cups in hand.

She frowns as she places Lancel’s cup in front of him. It doesn’t make any sense, Ami had seemed so nice when she met her, if not a little more than dumb. Though she wouldn’t tell Lancel that, but still, she seemed to like her brother a lot.

Relationships were so confusing.

It angers her however, that she’s hurt her brother in such a way. She’s never really seen Lancel run from anything before, but he had left so early because of her, and it doesn’t take her long to change her view on Ami from accepting to downright despising. Her face shows it too, a grimace planted on it as she takes the seat diagonally from him. 

Lancel does glance up when Janei sets the steaming mug down in front of him, giving her a small smile, before turning his eyes downwards again. He's always been the one taking care of her, and right now, he's hit square in the face by how grown up she is, how unlike the little girl barreling into his legs every time he walked through the door, bombarding him with all sorts of questions like she was convinced that he had all the answers.

He never did, but it stings that Janei has figured that out, too, and perhaps a lot longer ago than he realises. He toys with the little label attached to the tea bag in his cup.

"I thought she was worth it," he mutters. He shrugs again. It's a helpless gesture, not so much one of indifference like he wishes it could be. He doesn't want to care. He wants to just shrug it off and move on with his life. God, he wishes he'd never met her. He should've thrown out that stupid paper cup with her number on it. Who did that anyway? Wasn't that the plot of every teen movie, ever? He should have known. God, how could he have been so stupid?

She has never liked people lying to her, it makes her feel small, and she usually gets the impression that they think of her as a child, and she’s not. She’s nearly fourteen and definitely not a child any more, not even how much both of her brothers wanted, and pretend her to be.

I’m fine is lie number two, unless he is jright olly that his face is sporting bruises. Janei doesn’t mean to keep a tally, and does away with the count immediately. When he speaks again, it’s quiet, almost as if it were a secret. And Lancel sounds…sad.

He slips in one of the chairs by the table. He tries not to slump, but he's tired, he's got a headache, and his face feels like a balloon, so he's not sure if he's actually succeeding in controlling his posture. He shrugs, pressing his lips together.

Upset, yes, that's one word. Angry, another. Embarrassed, probably the one that fits best.

Shame burns hot in his chest and rises to his cheeks. God, he hopes not a lot of people saw them, or worse, heard them argue the night of the Gala. He'd left without as much as a goodbye that night, too, and driven straight back to Lannister Street. Sleep hadn't come, and he'd spent the night throwing things into his suitcase and waiting until the end of curfew so he could leave. The thought of facing his family after what happened had felt impossible, and more than just a little sickening. 

Did Lancel simply survive on takeaway while he was at university? Janei likes to think not as she closes off the fridge. Running off into the bathroom, she grabs the first washcloth she sees and places some ice from the freezer in the middle, making a makeshift ice bag. “Here." She hands it to her brother. “You fell off your bike? I didn’t know you had a bike up here. It must’ve been some fall to get your face." She says less than amused. She’s trying not to be as worried as she is, but she’s not stupid; someone had punched her brother. No one gets their just their face beaten from falling off their bike. 

Janei trots over to her suitcase and pulls out a small bag placed in the front pocket. “I brought my own tea, my favourite. Mango Camomile, so we’ll have that, if that’s alright." She smiles more naturally at Lancel, walking to where the teapot sits on the stove, waiting. Filling it up with water, she turns on the heat and leaves it be. 

"I do. It's easier to get around campus this way." That part is true at least, but his bike is still in the basement where he locked it up in June before leaving for London for the summer. He's not sure if she's buying his lie. Probably not. Janei is smart, and unfortunately old enough to put two and two together. "Well. Yeah. It was an unlucky fall," he shrugs, trying to keep up the crumbling makeshift facade anyway.

The sting of the ice has lessened, and it's actually starting to feel soothing now. Lancel returns Janei's smile, watching her in silence while she starts to prepare tea for them. Truth be told, his initial shock aside, it's nice to have her here. He's spent the past week convinced that being on his own was for the best, without anybody asking him questions he didn't want to answer, because by doing that, he'd have to admit to his own failure -- his stupidity -- and worst of all, he'd have to admit that he was wrong, and everyone else had been right all along.

Though who answers the door has her wondering for a moment.

Instead of a fresh-faced brother, or even a sleep ridden brother, she has a battered and bruised one. She pushes a hand against the door, because he looked as if he was ready to close it. It wouldn’t do that, not to her at least.

"Lancel!" She exclaims, eyes wide with worry. What had happened? Could he not handle himself for a couple days without anyone else? Apparently not. Even if she had been angry at him for leaving, she didn’t wish him to get beat up. Of course, she would’ve playfully punched his arm or something of the like, but not now. “What happened?" She knits her brow, and pushes her way into the flat. For her brother’s state, it’s rather clean. Not as clean as Janei would like, but still…clean.

She immediately sets her suitcase down near a sofa and walks into the kitchen. Whatever happened to her brother will be sorted out, she can help him. And while she doesn’t like to see him damaged, it still makes her feel good that she came up when he needed someone. 

"I’ll make us some tea, and well…you’ve got to get something on that eye. After we wash your face, that is." She’s moving too fast, speaking too fast, but she definitely had not expected this. It sets her a little off kilter as she prances around her brother’s flat, trying to find where everything is. Breathing in once, she calms herself down and focuses. 

He can't very well tell her what really happened to his face. He's not proud of it, and the memory of the night before (and the night before that one, and the one before that one as well) coils in his stomach like poison vines. "Nothing," he forces himself to say, his tongue curling clumsily around the word. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down. He ducks -- escapes -- into his bathroom, and away from his sister's prying eyes.

He's startled by his own reflection in the mirror, looking half a stranger even to himself. He turns on the faucet and lets the cold water run through his fingers for a while before splashing some on his face. It helps to clear away the rest of the fog marring his vision and eases the throbbing pain in his head.

He's left the door open, so he could still hear her voice coming form the hall, talking about tea. He can hear her opening and closing various cupboards. He steps into the doorway, leaning against it for a bit of support. "I fell off my bike is all," the lie finally comes to him. "I was out early, and it rained a bit, and I slipped."

Lancel's back stiffens involuntarily when Janei rounds on him with a humourless grin. "I didn't say anything," he mumbles defensively. A moment too late, he recognises her words for the stab at his sudden disappearance a week ago she'd no doubt intended for them to be. "Listen Janei–" Heaving a tired sigh, Lancel walks towards her. His eyes fall on the half emptied bottle of liquor on the kitchen counter.

message: i'll let you know when i'll stop by in a few weeks

message: mum, i'm sorry

message: no i could not have been. why is it so hard to understand that i want to be at my own place right now?