Disclamer : Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire are George R.R Martin and HBO's property. Do you think that, if I ask nicely, they'll let me have Lancel? Pretty please?

Summary : When Lancel leaves their den to face the world and to start building his own story, his mother can't help but think back on the time where he was still just a child.

This OS is a bet asked by Assassin Master Ezio 91.

Just a mother

As she watched her eldest son riding away to King Landing, Dorna had the strange and nasty feeling that she'd never see her baby boy again. She blamed that on her delicate nerves. Lancel was going to be with Jaime and Cersei, his cousins, they'd care for him like she'd care for her niece's children, as if they were her own blood.

Fifteen…

Lancel was almost fifteen years old. It seemed only like yesterday that he entered into her life, that her four children came into her life.

Kevan was just as moved, she knew. He didn't show it, men didn't show emotions as easily as women, that wasn't allowed of them she regretted.

Staring at Lancel's disappearing form to the point her eyes started to hurt, she thought back on the days the Seven Gods allowed her to be a mother to her beloved husband's children.

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At first, it was just a surprise. The Lannister family wasn't known for being barren. Quite the opposite actually. Filled with twins, large families. Kevan had three brothers, one sister, so many cousins and uncles Dorna couldn't even remember them all. Truth be told, when they had married, while both of them knew that they wanted to have their own children someday, it didn't strike them as the first thing to start together. Dorna was still young, she was fifteen, Kevan was twenty-three. Tywin was married, had two beautiful toddlers, a boy and a girl in perfect health. His wife was still young and healthy herself. Genna had children herself, sons, in case something happened to the golden twins. So, the newlywed couple didn't place children on the priority list. However, after a few years, when they both felt the yearn to grow their own little den, the fact that they didn't get pregnant surprised them. They had never feared sterility. It didn't even come to their mind as a possibility.

"It's just temporary. It's only the start. Joanna didn't get pregnant on the first try. She had the twins three years after her marriage." She thought

Nothing ever came and years flowed away like a peaceful river. There was never a time where Dorna believed herself pregnant. There was never a time she miscarried. There was never a time she had a stillborn child. No, she remained perfectly childless, her body spared the hassle of a pregnancy failure. She thanked the Gods for it but it tasted like a curse. If it would have hurt her, because it would have hurt her, at least, she would have been able to know if she could conceive a child. She couldn't even ease Kevan on that subject. Kevan…

Who never blamed her for their situation.

He understood.

The best he could, in his own way, he understood.

He eased her, in his own way.

He was a second son, he had said. There was no urgency in him fathering children for the family, he said. Tywin had three children, two sons and a daughter, and even if Tyrion had been born a dwarf, he was healthy and spared madness. Genna has sons herself. He could always dote on them, like he always did. If it wasn't the Gods' will to have them grow their little family, he accepted it. All he cared about on that regard was the two of them, happy together, growing old together. She could still see her own father's shock when he had heard him console her. Husbands like Kevan were a rare occurrence. Had she been married to someone else, she would have been set aside for a more fertile young woman.

However, on her sixteenth marriage anniversary, the maester's words sounded like a miracle from the Seven themselves:

Kevan's son was growing inside of her.

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While Kevan had been over the moon hearing the news, he advised on keeping it a secret until the first months passed. She knew it was out of security, but she suspected her husband to want to enjoy this privately with her first. She knew the fuss that their announcement would create. She was still amazed by how easy her pregnancy was. Apart from some morning sickness that weren't even that strong, she wasn't suffering. To her shame, she hadn't even noticed that her red flower had stopped blooming. She stopped paying attention to it long ago, when she was resigned at the idea of never carrying a baby. It came like an old habit and went as quietly as it came.

"I already know how to name our son." She said

"It could be a girl, you know. I wouldn't mind to be honest."

"I have the feeling it is a boy."

Kevan had this small smile that was for her only.

"Lancel."

He seemed surprised by her choice. That name hadn't been used in quite a while.

"It starts with the letter following yours. It's a regal and old Lannister name, filled with history and meaning. It shows this son is your son and heir. And to be honest, I like how delicate it sounds."

"How can I say no after such a passionate talk? Lancel it is, then."

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If her pregnancy had been easy and smooth, Lancel's birth had been a battle.

She was a frail woman and her son happened to be a well built, chubby baby. Labour had lasted for almost a day and throughout the pains, she had heard the maesters telling Kevan a choice would have to be made if it went on. She had made him promise, months before, to save the child if that choice had to be made. Because she knew that, if she hadn't made him promise, he would have chosen her. He never hid it. And while she wasn't praying for death, she believed that she had made her time more than the baby inside of her. She would have lived, loved. Her life was like a fairytale. She, the daughter of a minor knight, bannerman to a powerful house, married for love the brother of the current lord her family was serving. Very few ladies could take pride in that. But in the end, Kevan was spared that fateful choice as Lancel managed to get out.

She looked at her baby, nestled in her arms, sleeping away after the war his birth had been. What a little warrior he already was. The maesters were even amazed that, after such a difficult birth, he had no health issue, though they kept a close eye on him. Her little prince… How she had prayed for such a blessing! He already had a thin layer of blond hair. His eyes were bright blue but she knew they certainly would change colours as he'd grow up. Jaime had the same eyes in his first few months. Her handmaidens had fussed on the already delicate features of his face, well drawn. He'd grow up to be a beauty, they said. Maybe, she thought. But Lancel could have been born a dwarf, he could have been born with a lump, he could have been born without a foot or a hand, he could have been born deaf, blind, mute, slow-witted, he was nothing less but perfection in her eyes.

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While the maesters suggested some time before experiencing childbirth again, neither Kevan nor Dorna had the desire to try again for some time. Lancel was their little miracle and more than enough, he filled all their wishes for parenthood. He was healthy and growing up well and he was showing good dispositions. His blue eyes had turned into a perfect emerald green. And as he grew up, he filled their expectations nicely. At three, he was starting to know how to write his name, he could read a few sentences. He seemed to enjoy books and Dorna hoped it would bring him and Tyrion closer. He also seemed to enjoy maths, geography but above all, history and music. But what Lancel loved the most, when his easy and short lessons were done, just to make him accustomed to studies, was to sit by her side and watch her embroider. He could sit still for hours and watch as she'd go, marvelled by the pattern slowly revealing itself on her cloth and very often, he asked her if she was magical. Kevan would often find him, quiet and focused, by her side, never bored by the show she offered him. It wasn't much, but it felt like happiness. Her husband, their son and their peculiar bond, and herself, by the fire, just enjoying each other's company. That was the greatest fortune for her.

When Lancel was six months away from his fourth birthday, the Gods had blessed her again with a new pregnancy.

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Having a child had been a miracle.

Having a new child, a sibling for her Lancel, was another one.

Having twins was beyond her wildest dreams.

Yet, there were here, by her side, two little boys, in perfect health, born on Kevan's birthday.

Her pregnancy had been tiring but not difficult. Her labour had been much easier too. However, what had scared her was that her boys were born premature. Not by much, during her eighth month, so she knew their chances of survival were fairly high, still it added to her worries. They looked just like Lancel when he was their age. And while they looked perfectly alike, she was still able to spot little differences in them. Martyn was a bit shorter. Willem had slightly darker hair. Kevan had been amazed, once again, by how she had picked their names. He let her name them, maybe it amused him, in a way.

Martyn's name started with the letter following Lancel's. Willem's first letter was Martyn's first letter just switched, like facing a mirror. His name also ended with Martyn's first letter. It ended with the letter following Lancel's last letter. Her three sons had the same amount of letters in their names, because they were equals in her heart.

Lancel had been amazed by the miracle of life he witnessed during nine months. He kept asking questions about them, about how they'd be born, about everything that concerned them, and when asked why he was so involved, he just replied he wanted to be a good big brother, like his uncle Tywin was to his father. Dorna swore she saw the smallest hint of a smile on her brother-in-law's lips.

Lancel and the twins would grow close to the point they'd often share a bed, play together, genuinely care about one another, not caring about who would be their father's heir. Their bond would never break, only grow stronger with the years.

Kevan and Dorna were the proudest parents of the Seven Kingdoms.

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The word to qualify her last pregnancy was surprise.

Fourteen years after Lancel, ten years after the twins, no one had expected fourty-five years old Dorna Lannister, born Swyft, to give her husband a new baby to dote over.

Everyone had bet on a new son.

It was their first daughter.

Kevan's reaction had been the same one he had with their boys and when told he had a girl, he was just as proud. In a way, she suspected him to have secretly prayed for a daughter. The twins had been excited all along and while Lancel had been more composed, he had been just as happy and warm in his congratulations. She could still see him hesitating to carry his little sister in his arms, afraid to hurt her. And she was a girl, he needed to respect her, to be proper, even if she was an infant. Janei was only a few hours old and she already had the eldest of her brothers wrapped around her tiny chubby finger. Martyn and Willem loved her dearly, but she had put a spell on Lancel.

This time, it was Kevan who had suggested a name, one inspired by his late mother.

Janei was thus named with a name honouring her grandmother, still missed by her children.

"She has five letters, just like you. To show she's your daughter." He gently teased

She only smiled.

The Gods had really blessed her. A loving husband, three beautiful and clever sons, a perfect little girl, all away from troubles, living in their little bubble. She couldn't ask for more. Though, she continued to pray, so one day, it would be her children who'd know the joy she had experienced in being their parent.

The End