DISCLAIMER: The rights to the characters, names, etc belong to George RR Martin, Bantam Books and Voyager Books. I own nothing, except the idea for this fanfiction / one shot.

Short story about Cersei Lannister and her undying love for her brother Jaime. I've always loved this canon/ship in the books/show, and I always will.

It was summer in King's Landing for the seventh year in a row. The birds were chirping, the air smelled foul with the stench of death in the air and the people below the Red Keep were cheerful and delighted as well as in despair and famine. The war in the North sure took its toll, its losses were grave on either side of the battlefield, the queen regent thought, we lost so much. Cersei Lannister, the queen regent of the seven kingdoms and queen mother of one of the most powerful kings that ever lived, sat on her balcony, in one of her countless golden chairs, drinking some newly imported wine from Highgarden, reading a letter a raven had sent her from the North. Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, was taken captive by Stark forces. Your father, Tywin Lannister, fought gallantly to retrieve him, to avenge such treachery, to no avail. But rest assured, your father will do anything to get him back to Casterly Rock, if it's the last thing he'll ever do. Inform the king of this misfortune, and send reinforcements. Quickly. Cersei looked up to the sky, finishing the letter for the hundredth time, seeing a couple of lovebirds flying by, enjoying the sun on their backs and the food in their beaks. Jaime Lannister captured. Inform the king. Reinforcements. Words that went through her head again and again and again.

The sun was glittering through the leaves of a bush, blinding her temporarily, while a single tear rolled down her cheek. I can't deal with these emotions. I just can't. If someone sees me being sentimental, one of these peasants, the Red Keep calls servants, they'll think I'm vulnerable at a time like this. The queen regent can't be seen expressing sentiments for fallen soldiers, not even for her brother. Toughen up, Cersei, you can do it. Conceal, don't feel. Aiming to take her wine goblet, she realized that it was empty. It was full a minute ago, where did it all go? "Hey, you there, more wine. Now!" The servant hurried over to her queen with a full pitcher of wine, but tripped over one of the late Robert Baratheon's pelts, spilling all the wine. "What the fuck are you doing? You ruined a perfectly good pelt with you incompetence! Wait until the king hears about it. Guards! Take this incapable fool out of my sight at once. The dungeons will suit her quite nicely, I think." Sitting back down in her chair, she still had a craving for more wine. What will I do now? My servants are incapable, and I can't bloody well walk down to the kitchens or the cellar to get wine myself. What kind of a queen would I be, if I did such a vulgar act? Sigh. "Guards!" One of the King's Guard stepped into the room, wondering what the queen needed now, clearly frustrated with his assigned position. "Get me another servant. Now!" "Yes, of course, your majesty. Right away."

Is no one here capable of doing anything anymore? By the seven, how hard can it be to find me a new servant to bring me wine? I need to numb my pain. My fear. I need to erase the fear that maybe my beloved brother, Jaime, may be lost to us, to me, forever. In that moment, a raven landed on her balcony, a letter attached its legs. Normally a maester would receive the ravens, but she couldn't trust anyone, especially when her brother, Tyrion, as the Hand of the King. The letter was short and withered. Cersei read through it, and when she finished reading it, she looked up at the sky. Jaime Lannister is dead. Executed by Stark soldiers as a form of revenge. Tywin Lannister requesting reinforcements immediately at Casterly Rock. Her thoughts went blank. The only thing she could think of, was something she had read years ago in her youth. Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead… Her thoughts drifted off into a dark void of emptiness.

Tears formed around her eyelids, blurring her sight, she threw her goblet straight towards the opposite wall, hoping to calm down in some way, but it didn't help. An aching pain started to form in her chest, increasing with every gulp of air, hurting her body and mind, slowly but efficiently. Sharp stabs, like knives piercing through her lungs. What is happening to me? What is this sorcery? She fell to her knees, supporting her upper body by stretching her arms in front of her on the ground. Inhaling deep gulps of air, her mouth wide open, her expression blank in fear, dripping with sweat. What is happening to me? My-My Left arm...it hurts. Pain everywhere. How can this be? Jaime, where are you when i need you the most? Brother, I need you! She screamed internally. "Where...is my...goddamn wine!?" A guard heard her screaming orders, rolling his eyes, her stepped inside. Seeing her, panting on the floor next to the golden chair, he ran over to her, trying to help in any way he could. "Get...your grubby hands off of me, you imbecile...and get me Grand-Maester Pycelle...right now!" He was frozen on the spot. "Did you...hear me? Get Pycelle, you idiot!" And she crashed to the ground. The soldier ran as fast as he could to get help, to get the Grand-Maester.

What did I do to deserve such a fate? Have I angered the Gods in any way? Sure, I haven't been an upright citizen, insulting and throwing my servants in the dungeons, but that doesn't mean that I am a bad person. I have giving the late king two sons, two rightful heirs to the throne, and a beautiful daughter that he would be proud of. Sure, they may not be his, but rather Jaime's offspring. But who's Robert to judge me? Whoring around, fucking anything that could walk. Why shouldn't I deserve some happiness in my life? Jaime made me happy. We shared a womb together. We grew up holding each other's hands, supporting one another no matter what. And now the gods have chosen to take my happiness away from me, but why? Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella have probably lost their father to the northerners, to the Starks of Winterfell. They will pay for that. Father will see to their punishment, yes, he will.

The pain in her chest area has grown to such extent, that she didn't feel anything anymore. She was completely numb from the pain. She chuckled at the thought of Winterfell burning to the ground, and every Stark with it. Blood started to drip out of her mouth, as she was lying on her side, chuckling. The Lannisters have no rivals. Stark, Targaryen, Martell, Tyrell, and Baratheon are no match for the might and power of House Lannister. Father will show them all what will happen when they hurt one of us. A lioness always protects her cubs, as does the alpha in their pride. A small blood pool has already formed on the stone floor, staining the nearby carpet. Cersei reached out at something that wasn't there, grabbing at nothing. Jaime, I need you. Brother, where are you? Jaime… The arm fell to the hard stone floor, her mind drifting off, and her breath sounds decreasing rapidly. Her pulse stopped, blood no longer rushing through her veins, her body suspending all motion. A single tear running down her cheeks is all there was left of Cersei of House Lannister, queen mother and regent of the seven kingdoms. A tear holding her last moments, her last thoughts and memories.

Thanks for reading my story. Don't forget to leave a review :)