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and still they return

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Jeyne had been feed by her wet nurse and slept peacefully and sated in her crib. 

The golden curled child slept in the same room as her mother, since Cersei couldn’t tolerate to leave her out of sight, partly out of fear, and partly because in their humble house weren’t rooms enough.

Their home was a small simple house for the simple life with the gold Tyrion had bestowed them with, a life where they hadn’t want to stood out. An exile for the former queen of the seven Kingdoms and her brother.

They would start anew. Leaving their past behind. Supposedly. 

After several messages from Westeros, after many sleepless nights, her brother and lover had took a decision, he wouldn’t let the woman he had disgraced becoming the mother of a bastard, his honor bound him to marry her.

They would go back.

The old Cersei would have raged, she wouldn’t have even considered the idea, she would have preferred to kill him. 

The new Cersei the one who had swore to herself to do everything for the man who had rescued her and their child, this woman who was just a pale fearful version of the bold lioness, stared at her child, and nodded, not even trying to fight the tears. When Jaime Lannister took her in his arms, kissing her and bedding her once again after the birth of the child, he felt for the first time that Cersei belonged to him, for the first time he came before everything else in her life. She would do whatever he asked. The feeling of love overwhelmed him. 

The roles were reversed, he would be the married one, in his case married to a woman he treasured and respected, Cersei would still be his love, but for the world,  only his sweet sister.

Thus the redeemed knight, the disgraced queen and the professedly daughter of Euron Greyjoy came to Westeros, on Tarth, home of the bride.

Jaime rejected every claim of Casterly Rock, he even took the name of his wife, the new king had permitted the twins to live on Tarth, but he had been adamant, little Jeyne Greyjoy would be a ward of the crown, to be raised at Winterfell by the king’s sister.

Cersei hadn’t had any milk for her daughter, and now she didn’t have the strength and the power to hold her back, neither tears to ease her broken heart. Since Jaime had told her about his plans, she had had the feeling of being dead, trapped in a nightmare a foretaste of the hells that undoubtedly awaited her.

The fear, the shock, the grief had messed her feelings since before Jeyne’s birth, the arduous travail had drained the remaining strength she had possessed, she had been able to hold her daughter only a fortnight after the delivery. 

Even while holding her, she knew her daughter would be taken away from her, like all of her children .

Jeyne would be poisoned, she would be slayed , or a fever would take her, she would stop breathing in her sleep. Cersei didn’t know how, but she knew and waited, staring at her crib. Instead of a poison or a fever, it had been a Stark to separate her from her only living child. Sansa Stark, the first Queen in the North would have her revenge. In a way or another, Cersei knew she had lost her child, like Myrcella in Dorne, she would never see her daughter again.

She never held her daughter before parting, only Jaime cradled the blonde child, kissing her little face, swearing he would see her.

The bride was popular, the groom infamous, the former queen and discarded lover a spectacle too exceptional to be missed. Tarth was filled with people like never before. Thus the visibly pregnant awkward bride and the still good looking knight exchanged vows of fidelity, another vow that Jaime had no intention to keep. 

If the people expected an explosion or a murder, they were disappointed. Cersei’s mask was placid and serene. 

It was like the man exchanging vows with another woman was only her brother and nothing more. 

The gown she and her daughter wore were black and silver, the house color of her last dead husband.

She looked like nothing hurt her, and it was true, she felt nothing, neither pain nor disappointment, she was only surprised that after the bedding was called, no one had raped and murdered her and her child.

The numbness stayed with her for a time after the departure. 

She started to become more herself when her brother’s wife was brought to childbed, and instead of feeling nothing, she felt the hope that the giantess and her child would die.

But the giantess was younger and stronger, she and her son survived just fine. 

A bit of the old Cersei came back, as she refused to see her and her child. 

Cersei didn’t live in the mansion, she had a little cottage near the water, servants came to clean, to cook and then they left, she didn’t want anyone living with her. Jaime came everyday very early, and they would make love, later he would come again as a brother, and they would speak, take a walk or drink together.

The day his son had been born had it be the first day he hadn’t visited her in the morning. That  day the servants had been too chatty and useless, she had thrown them out. She had some ham and cheese, more wine than she had since years and the bitter taste of loneliness. She refused to think of her little girl, buried in the cold Winterfell with people barely better than wildlings. 

“Where you in the birthing room?” She had wanted to ask him as he came to her, glowing and more than a little drunk.

But she hadn’t wanted to know, hadn’t wanted to know if he loved his first trueborn son, more than the daughter he had given away. If she had borne him a son, would he have come back to do the honorable thing? 

That night she drawn blood from his back. Let the servants and the giantess know whom he belong to.

Jaime had no problem to become the Lord his father had wished him to be.

The giantess had the impudence to visit her once with her offspring, Cersei fought against her curiosity and she managed not to look at the bundle in the ugly woman’s arms. 

She talked with her for the first and last time, she explained how she wished she would have died in childbed, how much she would hate her and that she was the reason she had to give up her last and only living child. She advised her to never seen her again.

It felt good to speak her mind.

Life was monotonous, Jaime her only company, Tyrion send her books and cards and epistles about her daughter.

Jaime planned a visit to Winterfell, but this visit was delayed because of the new pregnancy of the ugly sow.

When he told her about the news, after their love making, she had slapped him for the first time in years.

He had tried to reason with her, he was married it was expected of him. His wife deserved…

She had no idea how he explained the deep claw mark around his eyes. He surely didn’t tell her how he fucked again and again afterward. 

Six years after Jeyne’s departure, and three sons for Jaime, Cersei discovered to be pregnant. She was 48 years old and since almost two years her moon blood was irregular.

Her seventh pregnancy. She didn’t know what to think, Jeyne’s birth had almost killed her, and she had been younger. What would Jaime think? 

Lost in thoughts she walked much farther than consuetudinary and for the first time she saw her brother with his new legitimate family. What would he say? Jaime may have loved her, but after renouncing their life in Pentos, he had clearly decided not to share a family with her. Even if he had assured that he only had a deep respect and friendship for his wife, it had been enough to make three children, it was enough to make them a family.

That night she wrote to Tyrion and she asked for help. 

She would bring this child into the world, as Tyrion’s son and heir because “... Tyrion if I would have died crushed by the Red Keep, I would have died as a queen, afraid, desperate but my pain would have ended there. Now I’m the mother of a girl that I will never know, seeing the man who promised me to love me forever building a family with another woman. You have a debt and because you are better than me, I’m sure you’ll help me” 

Jaime and his family would finally visit Winterfell. The ugly woman wanted to visit queen Sansa, in the meantime Cersei would visit the Westerlands. 

 

She expected to die, but surprisingly the birth didn’t kill her, even if this was the first time Jaime hadn’t been there for her.

Cersei didn’t took the child in her arms. She didn’t gave him a name. It wasn’t her child. It was her nephew. 

Had it been this painful for Jaime? Somehow she doubted it.

Tyrion played his part. One day Jaime's son would be lord Lannister. 

Her little brother was once again her savior. 

Cersei felt like she was drowning in tears, tears she couldn’t shed. 

She dreamt endlessly about her children, how she gave birth to them and the times she hadn’t been able to. How despite having brought to the world  more than three children,the witch had been right. Only Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen had called her mother. The only children nursed and raised by her. Her little black haired son, her sweet Jeyne and the last boy. She hadn’t and wouldn’t be a mother for them. 

In her dreams was blood, in her dreams she cried and screamed like she wasn’t able to do anymore.

Bleak and endless were her days.

She dreamt of her sitting in the throne, blood dripping from her thighs, another child she had lost, and her brother came from her, but this time it wasn’t Tyrion. 

She knew she survived because Jaime would end her life. 

She could only wait and dream. 

 

Despite waiting for him, she had still been surprised to see him again. Wasn’t his new family enough for him? Why did he decided to end her life? Did he hate her that much?

Unlike her dreams, it wasn’t dark when he came to her, the sun was shining and she sat on her favorite spot watching the see. 

“Good morning Jaime” she managed to press out. Who was this man? Her brother, her lover, her murder? 

He looked just as beautiful as he had been a year ago,but his glare was murderous and he had deep lines and a gaunt face. 

“Jeyne is growing fine and strong. She looks like you.” he choose not to great her. His eyes fixed on her face.

“The hair of her mother and the eyes of her father” his words came out with such a bitterness, Cersei almost didn’t understand the meaning.

“Such beautiful blue eyes she has, little Jeyne Greyjoy” he spat the Greyjoy with disgust and Cersei knew the reason why he would kill her. 

“It was Euron’s child then” her tired voice tremulous with sadness.

For a few instants he was taken aback. 

“Are you taking me for a fool? You did to me the same thing you did to Robert. No wonder you let your daughter go. You feared her eyes wouldn't be green, that you couldn't continue to lie to me. You can only lie and spread your legs and pin your bastards to other men”

She couldn’t resist and for the first time in forever she laughed out loud. He broke his vows, cuckolded the king, fathered children on his twin, left her pregnant to impregnate another woman, married this woman, but here he was full of indignation calling out her morality short comings.

He was the funniest man alive.

Would he believe her if she told that she hadn’t been sure to have lost his baby? Some parts of her knew of course, probably this was the reason she dreamt about abortion all the time, she bled after Jaime left, before sleeping with Euron, but she had told herself the child she carried soon after, was still Jaime’s. Some stupid lie she told herself to continue to live.

“Jeyne isn’t a bastard. I married Euron. She is true born like your sons. You killed my husband and took me away. What should I have said? Especially after you took us back to Westeros. You left Jaime and he was my only ally.

“Did you wait a day before you fucked him? But again you readily opened your legs for Lancel, but Euron wasn't a boy like Lancel. He was allowed to spend himself in you, poor Lancel” he laughed bitterly on her surprise.

“I visited Tyrion and his child before coming here. I've heard interesting stuff about you. The new master of coin told me about Lancel, he congratulated me on leaving you behind. Even Tyrion knew, but he is more loyal than you deserve” 

“Lancel was nothing” she could have rolled her eyes, if the fear wouldn't have frozen her.

“Cersei” for the first time he called her by her name “Finally the true. Robert was nothing. Lancel was nothing. Euron was nothing” for every name he said he came near, now he was standing before her and she shivered. She felt the urge to run away, but he would be faster. “I was nothing” 

“You were everything” it wasn’t accurate, them and their children had been everything.

“I was never enough” he sounded resigned.

“Me neither” how dared he to look so sad. He who had children he could love.

“You were the world, but it was an illusion. You are a disease Cersei and I’m dying without you” he didn’t want to live without her. 

“It doesn’t have to end this way” even while speaking, she couldn't help but feeling happiness. She wouldn't be alone. He still loved her.

He smiled his old Jaime’s smile, understanding her without words. 

We will leave together as we were born together  

And then she smiled too, his hands, one heavier than the other, were tender on her neck.

They looked each other in their eyes. Mirror of each other. Soon they would be together again.

Forever .

 

He had always been a sentimental fool, so much more than his foolish siblings. Why would he have risked his life to save theirs? Why would he had married a terminally ill woman so that their child would be true born. Why did he called their son Jaime? No Jaime wasn’t their son anymore, Jaime was his child and heir. He had protested when Bran had decided to separate his siblings from their daughter, but Bran told him this needed to happen if he didn’t want his siblings to die. Jeyne should remain in the North, never to be seen by her father.

Six years later his brother had to visit Winterfell and now he traveled to the Westerlands to collect their lifeless bodies.

A servant had found them, his arms wrapped around her, calm and peaceful.

He decided they had to be buried together at the Rock, he would send some anonymous bones to Tarth, Jaime had chosen the woman he hadn’t been able to live without.

“Fools, Lannister’s had always been fools” he murmured tired and drained. He wanted to leave, his son was waiting.