ℂ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕚'𝕤 crying nearly broke my heart. She had been sobbing on her bed for hours, and I did not know what to do except sit with her and wait until she was ready to talk. "My golden boy", she sniffed. "He didn't deserve this. It's so- so cruel-" Her voice broke off, interrupted by another fit of sobs. "Why would anyone do this?", she whispered. I didn't answer. "He was just a little boy." Her eyes stared ahead, unseeing. "My little boy. Yes, he was the king, but he was still so young... so innocent..." Innocent? Her shoulders shook with silent crying as she, too, seemed to realize the untruthfulness of her last words. "No, he wasn't innocent. I don't want to remember a wrong version of him. I would have had all his life to mourn the person he didn't become. If I didn't then, I shouldn't now. Now I grieve for him, the real him, the him I loved no matter how twisted he became." She shook her head, looking up at me, and I watched her pain turn to anger, which was somehow all the more heartwrenching. "What would the daughter of the honorable Ned Stark think of that?", she asked bitterly. "You have honor", I said, tears in my eyes as well, my voice no more than a whisper as daggers twisted into my heart at this self-image of hers. "You love your family. What's more honorable than that?" "Knowing when not to love them", she replied quietly, her eyes dropping to the ground. I exhaled deeply. "Joffrey was not a good person, everyone knew that, and so did you. But he was your son. No one can blame you for loving him even when he did the terrible things he did." "My father wouldn't have", she argued. "If one of us..." She shook her head again. "He would have disowned us and kicked us out for even a fraction of what Joffrey did." "Then that makes you a better parent than him", I said decidedly, taking her hand. "Tywin isn't some superior life form that everyone should strive to be. You shouldn't strive to be. I like you a lot better the way you are, and so does Jaime" - I said it even though it pained me, because I knew she needed to hear this - "and Myrcella, and Tommen, and all the other people who care about you. They don't want Tywin Lannister, they want you, the lioness of the Rock, the queen who outlived her abusive husband of twenty years and still finds reason to smile, the strong woman who endures and survives and grows through everything the gods throw in her path. They want you, the person, the human, the woman who is allowed to cry and laugh and love and feel however she likes, because she isn't made of porcelain or stone, because she is real and she is herself. Do no apologize for your feelings. Do not regret them, or scorn them, because they are part of you and you mustn't change for what anyone expects you to be, least of all people who don't even bother to see the real you." She stared at me, her lips slightly parted. "I-" She broke off again, her mouth opening and closing several times until she found the right words. They came out in a whisper. "Can a person love someone against all their better instincts, against all the hate they feel for them?" I didn't hesitate. "Yes. Because you want to know what the strongest instinct of all is?" Her eyes told me she already knew the answer, but I said it anyways. "Love. We do not choose whom we love, and thank the gods we don't. The world would be a much darker place for it."

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We were standing in the sept, looking at Joffrey's body. There was no one inside but us, even the Kingsguard on duty had stepped out on account of the visitor being the deceased's mother. Stones painted to look like blue eyes covered Joffrey's real ones, a custom I'd never understood. It looked ridiculous. Cersei had been looking at her lifeless son for a few minutes in silence, but now she broke it. I had no doubt she had already said her private goodbyes to him in her head, but she seemed to want me to hear the rest. "You weren't a good man", she said quietly, forcing the words out as her eyes fluttered closed. "And I spent all your life pretending you were, turning a blind eye to your deeds, but... deep down I knew. And I think perhaps I just couldn't stand the idea of my beautiful boy no longer being mine, of me losing control, of him growing into his own person so unlike what I imagined. I tried so hard to be a good mother, I did, but maybe what I tried to be wasn't what you needed. And maybe... Maybe I couldn't bear to think I had failed, because then how could I justify the fact that I still cared, that I still loved you? Because I did. I loved you so much, my son, even when I saw you at your worst. I never blamed you, never could, I always thought it was something I had done, some way I had failed at being a good parent to you. But what makes a good parent? I grew up without a mother, my father was... well, he was my father, and when I had you, I quite frankly had no idea what I was doing. I only knew I wanted to protect you, had to keep you safe and happy. So I did. But what if that was where I failed? What if by giving you whatever you wanted - and not what you needed - I ruined you? And if I was to blame, then what did that make me? A terrible mother? A failure? But I couldn't be, I was the queen, the people adored me, I clearly hadn't failed in any regard but this. So I couldn't blame you, I couldn't blame myself, and when there's no culprit, there's no one to keep in check. It spiraled out of control, through my persistence in convincing myself and the world that we had done nothing wrong, that there was nothing wrong. It made us both worse people. So I redistribute that responsibility now, because I can't let you go with that lie hanging over both our heads. You weren't good. You weren't a good son, nor a good man. And neither was I. I wasn't a good mother, nor a good woman. We're both to blame, we both fucked this up, and we're both the reason you are on this bier now and I have to tell you this. So, I suppose what I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry. For not doing better. And I forgive your actions, because there's no use in spurning a ghost, but I won't forget them. I will no longer deny your responsibility for them and your malice. We both did bad, and we both shall suffer the consequences. Neither of us is washed free of the disaster that was your life, be it in death or on earth."

I didn't think I had ever been more surprised by Cersei. I'd also never been prouder of her. This degree of honesty and introspect wasn't like her in the slightest, but I was certain it was the closure she needed. Perhaps my words had really moved something in her, made her more confident in admitting her insecurities and revisiting old charades. I placed a hand on the small of her back and she spun around, resting her arms on my chest. "That was the best goodbye you could have given him", I muttered against her hair. "Your heart will feel much lighter." "I've never said these things before", she replied. "Not even to myself, I never admitted them. I don't think I was even aware of most of them, not really. You opened my eyes, Vallery. Thank you." She pulled back her head to kiss me. I eyed the corpse behind her uncertainly, but returned the kiss. Luckily, she didn't want to stay next to the bier, either. Tugging on my dress, she led me over to one of the marble pedestals in front of the statues of the Seven Gods, all without breaking the kiss. "I need you now", she breathed when our lips separated ever so slightly so I could lift her onto the smooth stone. I knew it was wrong to do something like this in a sept, let alone with her dead son in it, but I didn't care. This was neither my faith nor my son, and if Cersei wanted it, well, then there was no problem. I pushed up her skirt and climbed on top of her, steadying myself on the shins of the statue behind our heads. Cersei pulled my dress up to my ribs and my hips down onto her. "Hurry", she panted, guiding my hand to her nether regions by the wrist. "We don't have long until the Kingsguard comes back to check on us." I slid my fingers into her anticipatory wetness just as her lips connected with my neck, sucking and biting softly to make me shiver. I realized hazily that this was the first time we were doing it this way around, but it didn't matter. The movements came to me instinctually, and I remembered the things Cersei had done to me on our previous nights together. The memories burned hot on my skin in every place she had touched me, now being added to by the kisses she was planting on my neck and her hands roaming my waist and backside, holding on to me as I pushed in and out. Her back arched beneath me, her insides clenched around my fingers and I could feel her warm breath against my neck grow more rapid. "Don't stop", she pressed out, sighing in ecstasy. "Never", I promised, holding her close to me with my free arm. When she came, though, I had to let her go momentarily to prevent us from falling off the pedestal due to her violent thrashing. We couldn't afford lingering in the feeling, so we slid off the stone quickly, only to see the white marble covered in something else white. Cersei simply wiped away the evidence with the lining of her skirt. I gaped at her. "What?", she asked with a still delirious grin. "I've never seen you voluntarily sully a dress", I replied, raising an eyebrow. "This isn't sullying it", she winked and walked toward the sept exit. I followed. 

When we passed Joffrey, though, her temporarily heightened mood dropped again. I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's okay", I said. "You'll miss him for a long time, perhaps forever. But it will get better. It will get easier to think about him." She nodded and left the building with one last look back at her son. "Who do you think did it?", she asked out of the blue after we'd nodded farewell to the Kingsguard, who returned to his post. "I don't know", I replied honestly. "It could have been Tyrion. Everyone knows he hated Joffrey, and he was in charge of the wine at the wedding. It would make sense. The only thing that bothers me about this theory is that it would be very... sudden. There was no major aggression between them leading up to it. I'd think that whoever killed him, would have a very recent reason to do so." "I think so as well." Cersei took a deep breath. "Vallery, I don't mean to alarm you or draw false conclusions here, but... Sansa disappeared right after he began choking, didn't she?" My stomach contracted. "And with her own family being so recently murdered at a wedding, plotted by a Lannister... She was Tyrion's husband, and Joffrey treated her rather cruelly when she was engaged to him. All I'm saying is she would have had as much reason as Tyrion and a recent motive." I gasped for words. "But- my sister wouldn't- I don't believe she could have done this. She hated Joffrey, yes, and she was very hurt by what happened at the Twins, but-" "You taught me yourself this morning about accepting a person's potential for evil even when you love them. You have to admit that all the circumstances make her look rather suspicious." "They do, but-" "Look, I'm not saying she did it. I want to believe she's as good as you say she is. But we have to investigate the possibility nonetheless." I nodded. I hated to agree with this, but she was right. The evidence did point to my sister and Tyrion alike. "Have you spoken to Tyrion yet? Does he know anything about where she is?" In the castle, I sometimes didn't see Sansa for more than a day at a time, so it had been easy to forget about her disappearance, but the worry came creeping up on me again now. Why had she left? Had it been her own choice or had someone taken her? "Not yet. I don't want to see him anymore before the trial. Surely he is reveling in Joffrey's death, and I don't need that on my plate right now. He can take his sneering face and shove it up his-" "Let me talk to him", I said quickly. Cersei eyed me suspiciously. "Why? Do you think you can make him confess better than the court?" "I just want to know." At her confused frown, I added: "I've never been sure how to feel about him. Sometimes he's insufferable, at other times he's unexpectedly kind. Last I know, I was actually on relatively good terms with him. I want to see once and for all whether he deserved my second chance." I sighed. "More like, I want to convince myself he didn't. Because if I don't, I'll never stop giving chances." Cersei's face shifted to understanding. She put a hand on my arm. "Your heart is still too pure for this world - you see good in everyone. In a way, I admire that. Go on, reassure yourself. Perhaps we'll learn something new from him."

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The dungeons reeked of piss and sweat. Still, I tried to hold myself composed as I faced Tyrion. His cell wasn't as bad, he'd only been here for a day. He looked miserable nonetheless. "Did my sister send you?", he asked with a sigh, keeping his eyes closed as he sat leaning against his cot. "No", I replied. At my voice, he opened one eye. "Really? That's an even bigger surprise coming from you than anyone else I expected." I scowled. "She isn't the only part of my life, you know. I am a person beyond 'the queen's lover', believe it or not." "So what kind of person are you, Lady Stark?", he asked, face fully attentive now. "The kind who could get you out of here, if you give me what I ask", I replied coldly. He was irritating me already. It had definitely been a good choice for my conscience to come down here. Tyrion gestured to himself. "What could I possibly give you? I'm an imp in a dirty cell, accused of murder." Might as well take a shot while I'm here, I thought. "Accused. But did you do it?" "Cersei's little bird after all", he smiled knowingly. For his situation, he really had quite a lot of nerve. "More of a wolf", I said, willing my grey eyes to harden to steel, matching my voice. "And I'm rather surprised you talk so disapprovingly of her even now, knowing she could have you killed very easily at the moment. I thought you smarter than that." Tyrion, to my further surprise, stood up and motioned with his hands as though he was telling a story. "She has wanted me dead for a long time", he sighed. "And sooner or later, Cersei always gets what she wants." "What Cersei wants is my fingers in her cunt", I said bluntly. "But for that, she has to keep me happy. Now, I could tell her that it would make me happy to see your head on a spike, or I could tell her it makes me happy to see you go free. And that depends entirely on how you're going to respond to my demands." Although he tried to hide it, interest sparked in his eyes. "And what are your demands, my lady?" I ignored his mocking tone and continued. "Where is my sister?" "I believe the whole city is trying to answer that question at this very moment." My patience was running thin. "Quit the theatrics if you want to live. You're her husband. Surely you must know something?" "And you are her sister. How come you weren't told her plans? Does she perhaps not trust you anymore, given how involved you are with the queen?" "Sansa doesn't know about us", I snapped before I could stop the words from coming out. Shit. I had just given him knowledge. That wasn't how this was supposed to go. "Interesting", he simply remarked. "Well, I promised to keep your secret, so I won't be the one to tell her. But nonetheless, you have been absent of late. Perhaps she didn't tell you because you weren't there for her - or there at all, for that matter." Guilt tore at my heart. It was true, I had been so occupied with my relationship that I had neglected Sansa, despite everything that had happened to our family. I had found comfort in Cersei and completely forgotten that I should've been Sansa's comfort. "So do you know anything or not?", I asked, directing my soreness outward. "Alas, I do not. She did not relate any such notions to me. Actually, I was rather shocked myself to see her gone, as I hoped for her to testify in my favor." I did not grant him the empathy he was fishing for. "Then this conversation is over", I declared and turned around, walking out of the cell without another look.

When I returned to my rooms, still riled, I realized I had missed Tommen's crowning ceremony. "Long may he reign", I whispered to myself belatedly and meant it. I prayed Cersei wouldn't have to suffer another heartbreak like this. Hopefully Tommen's rule would be better and longer. The boy was clearly kinder and wiser than his brother, and his mother would be more careful with him. "Half an hour less long than when we said it", Cersei remarked behind me in an amused tone. I didn't know how she had gotten in without me hearing. I opened my mouth to apologize for not attending, but she cut me off, breaking her cross-armed stance by the door to stride toward me with an expectant face. "So? What did Tyrion say?" I shook my head disappointedly. "Nothing of notice. He was being a sarcastic prick, but that's nothing new. At least my opinion of him has manifested now." "Glad you finally see it", she replied with a half smile. Brushing my hair out of my face, she looked into my eyes. "You're learning to play the game of thrones, little cub. Trust is easily misplaced within it." She inhaled deeply, dropping her hand. "Right now, you need to trust me, though. So we may gain someone else's trust." "What is it?", I asked. "My father... he has also come to the conclusion that Sansa is a likely suspect, and although he hasn't jumped from her to you yet, it won't be long until he does." She took my hand. "I wish to prevent that." "How?" I trusted her without question, but I was curious as to what she had in mind, because I couldn't think of anything to keep Tywin's suspicion away. If it could be done for me, perhaps Sansa... "We'll have to pretend." "As if we weren't already doing that every day." "I mean seriously pretend, as though we aren't even really friends. Tell him only the truth, but act to his knowledge of our relation - meaning none. I want to make this clear in advance: please don't take any of what I say to heart. He needs to believe I'm not defending you. I can't show any loyalty toward you. You have to, but only in a I-am-your-sovereign-and-you-grovel-before-me way. Can you do that?" I suppressed a laugh at her description and nodded. "Let's do it."

We were standing in the Tower of the Hand in Tywin Lannister's chambers, the Lord of Casterly Rock just entering. Cersei suddenly grabbed me by the throat with both hands and pulled me back against her. I gagged in surprise, fighting for air, and pried at her hands to regain my breathing. She had failed to mention anything about physically choking me. "What did you drag her here for like that?", Tywin asked, surprised at the sight awaiting him in his own rooms. "She might have knowledge of her sister's plans, and that wretched husband of hers's", Cersei said to her father, her icy voice chilling me to the bone. She finally eased her grip a little, and when her father turned to walk around a large table to stand before us, she carefully, almost unnoticeably, stroked my skin to tell me she didn't mean to hurt me. I rubbed the side of her hips that was turned to the wall with my hand to let her know in turn that it was alright, I understood. In the public eye, I was still a hostage, a captive, a traitor's daughter. And now my own sister's husband was on trial for murdering the king. How much more suspicious could a person look? How much more reason to hate me could Cersei have, despite what was between us in reality? "Fine, let's hear it from her", Tywin said, cool eyes scanning my face. "I know nothing of your grandson's murder, my Lord", I said solemnly. "Whatever part my sister may or may not have had in it, she did not disclose it to me. Personally, I do not believe her to be capable of such a thing, but it is not my judgement that matters. As for Tyrion, I know him even less, and near nothing of his and my sister's relationship. I'm sorry, I cannot tell you anything to help in your investigation." Tywin nodded, but kept his eyes fixed on me. Cersei squeezed my neck lightly, signaling for me to pretend to keep struggling. I squirmed slightly, intentionally pressing my backside against her, trying not to smile as I felt her body stiffen. I may have had to pretend to be uncomfortable, but that didn't mean I couldn't have a little fun with it. "Her statement seems sincere to me", Tywin declared after giving me one last look that to me felt like he was seeing right through me, right into my very soul. I prayed he couldn't. Cersei squeezed a little harder again, slightly restraining my breathing while I leaned into her, and asked sharply: "So you think we should let her go?", knowing that his answer would be yes. At the incline of his head, her hands released my throat, sliding down to my shoulders which she still kept clutching, unwilling to release me, and I turned my head to look at her, a breathless smile on my lips that could've been taken for the mirth of winning the argument, but we both knew what it really meant. It's okay. I love you. Almost reluctantly, she let go of my shoulders, stepping back, and I took my place beside her. "A wise choice, Stark", Tywin remarked with a hint of a threat in his voice, "staying with the queen." I nodded to acknowledge his words and rubbed my throat, flicking my eyes up at Cersei for only a second, accompanied by the hint of a smile, but she didn't return it.

I was lying on the bed waiting when the door swung open, and Cersei ran over to me, taking my face in her hands and kissing me. I kissed her back longingly until she pulled away. When I saw the tears in her eyes, I cupped her cheek with my hand and brushed away a stray strand of hair. "What is it, love? What's wrong?" "I'm so sorry", she sobbed. "For what?", I asked, genuinely confused while I wrapped my arms around her and laid my head on her shoulder. "For hurting you", she continued. I pulled back and touched her face again. "Hey, no, don't be. It's alright. You did what you had to. No one can ever find out about our true feelings toward each other. It was the right thing to do, for both of us." I kissed her again, but she had more to say - or rather, sob. "No, it was wrong of me, I shouldn't have. I'm just like him, aren't I?" "You're not", I said firmly, aware of who she was referring to. "You didn't hurt me because you wanted to. You did it because you had to, to protect me. You're no Robert." I pulled her back into a hug, nestling my head into the curve of her shoulder and neck. "Because the Cersei Lannister I have come to know over the past year would never harm me, never. Not if she had a choice." Cersei inhaled noisily through her tears. "How do I deserve you?" "I could ask the same of you." I looked up at her. "I guess that's something humanity will never understand, the great mystery of love: how thinking so highly of another person can make you think so lowly of yourself, and yet make you so happy at the same time."

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My head was still swimming with thoughts of Cersei as I sat in the audience for Tyrion's trial. Her smell lingered in my nose, her taste coated my lips and the feeling of her body pressed against mine remained like a warm blanket on my skin. My mind's eye recounted her kisses, the way we had made love after I had assured her she hadn't done me harm. It had been two days ago, and still - whenever we did, the feeling stayed for days after, like floating on a cloud made of her touches. Even now, watching her sit stone-faced next to the judges, hands clenched on the arms of her chair, she looked so beautiful to me. It was like she was incapable of wearing an ugly expression. I forcefully pulled my attention back to the trial. My sister's handmaiden was giving her testimony. Apparently she had been Tyrion's prostitute? It didn't surprise me as much as it should have. Such a lowly man surely had plenty of relations with paid girls. "Father", Tyrion muttered under his breath, so quietly that hardly anyone heard him. "I wish to confess." Then louder. "I wish to confess!" He was trembling with anger, still keeping his eyes to the ground. Somehow I didn't feel like he was actually going to admit to the crime - his face displayed no guilt or fear, only unbridled fury. The hall went silent. "You wish to confess?", Tywin asked. Instead of answering his father's question, Tyrion turned to the crowd. "I saved you. I saved this city. All your worthless lives. I should've let Stannis kill you all", he growled, rising to his feet. "Tyrion", Tywin called over the resulting uproar. "Do you wish to confess?" "Yes, Father, I'm guilty", he replied, meeting his father's cold gaze now. "Guilty. Is that what you want to hear?" Tywin didn't let the accusing tone of his voice get to him. "You admit you poisoned the king?" "No. Of that I am innocent. I'm guilty of a far more monstrous crime." What was he talking about? "I'm guilty of being a dwarf", he spat. "You're not on trial for being a dwarf", Tywin responded, visibly annoyed. But Tyrion persisted. "Oh, yes I am. I've been on trial for that my entire life." "Have you nothing to say in your defense?", Tywin deflected. "Nothing but this: I did not do it." His voice grew louder, more aggravated, all the pain and rage breaking forth from him now as he turned to Cersei. "I did not kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had! Watching your vicious bastard die gave me more relief than a thousand lying whores." I tensed along with her. This went too far, the pain of losing her child was too fresh. Guilty or not, this wasn't about his potential sentence. This was their personal, long-running hatred, bubbling to the surface. To the crowd, he said: "I wish I was the monster you think I am! I wish I had enough poison for the whole pack of you, I would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it." Tywin rose to intervene. "Ser Meryn? Ser Meryn! Escort the prisoner back to his cell." Tyrion turned back around to face him. "I will not give my life for Joffrey's murder", he growled, "and I know I'll get no justice here. So I will let the gods decide my fate." He took a deep breath. "I demand a trial by combat."