She dreamt that she was in her bed. She looked beside her, expecting Robert, but hoping for Jaime. But saw no one. The night was dark. No torch was burning, yet she could see the walls of her chamber. There was the door. She walked to it and tried to open it, but it would not budge. "Where are we going?" Came her daughter's voice. Cersei turned around, and realized that Tommen was not here. "We have to go." She told her daughter, "Trust me." But the door would not budge, and suddenly the walls were closing in on her. She went to Myrcella and hugged her, to protect her. The walls kept coming closer, and the darkness deepened around her, till she could not even see her hands…
When she woke up, her heart was pounding, and she was sweaty in the cold room. She shook awake the girl beside her. "Light a torch and bring me that book on the table. I cannot sleep." In her cell on Visenya's hill, the septas had come hourly to keep her awake. In her prison in Red Keep, sleep itself eluded her more oft as not. She had hoped after Myrcella's return, she would worry less, sleep more. But the inverse had come to pass. She now worried about both her living children. That hideous scar on her face…
Nymeria Sand had assured her that her sister would root out this Gerold Dayne out of his keep in due time. But from what Ser Kevan had told her about the attitudes in Dorne, this might not be enough. And Myrcella was to go live there after she was married. To be sure, time may calm the waters, but Cersei was loath to leave something to time. I need to do something. Getting myself out of here would be a good start.
The girl brought the book and set a candle beside it. She was a child, some nine years of age. Waking up in the dead of the night did not agree with her. Cersei waited till she was asleep, and opened the page she wanted. There was the parchment as she had left it. Qyburn's messege.
I cannot write much. He had started. Seeing his handwriting had filled Cersei's heart with joy. He was the only one who had not abandoned her in her worst hour. When the mob had started jostling with the gold cloaks on their way back from the mud gate when Myrcella had arrived, Cersei had remembered another riot, when Joff had been alive. But Qyburn must have instigated it. When he had learned that Randyll Tarly was allowing Cersei to be there to receive her daughter, he must have given the parchment to some beggar. The mob had broken the ring around them, emboldened by shouts and jeers, and when the gold cloaks had cleared them away, Cersei had found the wrinkled parchment on her saddle. A little warning would have had been nice, but Cersei had managed to hide it without anyone noticing.
Qyburn was blunt and to the point. Storm's End has fallen. He had written. No Stormlander volunteered this information to us suggests they are keeping the option to join Jon Connington open. Mace Tyrell needs to take his army south soon. That much was true. The stormlanders might benefit from seeing his army. I made the singer put on a show of madness in the trial, so that his damning testimony might be thrown out. It seemed the only way to prevent a crisis. Mace Tyrell might choose Aegon over Tommen for his daughter's husband, so must not be driven to the choice by us or the faith. There is already some animosity between the faith and the Tyrells. The High Septon was not happy about the events after Ser Kevan's death. It left a bad taste in her mouth, to undo what she had planned for. But Qyburn was right. Mace Tyrell wanted his daughter to be queen. He only needed an unmarried king for that. Plus, a seventeen year old boy king would mean quick heirs.
There are too few Lannister loyalists left in the city. Qyburn went on on the other side of the paper. Ser Lancel is trying to convince the swords and the stars to take up arms against Mace Tyrell and free Tommen. I will arrange a meeting between the two of you before the trial. If you have instructions for me, drop a parchment out of your window in a pouch.
This was the best part. Something she could clutch at. Ser Harys had told her that Lancel had come to see his father's body, but Mace Tyrell had not allowed him to meet her. Cersei had thought Lancel had betrayed her, but now he seemed to be trying to help her. That was good. Also, Lancel was now a man of the faith, so Mace Tyrell could not touch him, easily at least.
She made the drop the following morning. In the night, the windows had been closed against the winter winds, and she could not risk the sound of opening them waking the girl novice sharing her bed. The girls changed every three days. By now Cersei did not even try to remember their names. They drew her bath. Maintained her wardrobe. Fetched her meals. Poured her wine. And watched her. For the High Sparrow or Mace Tyrell she could not say.
Today was the day of her trial. Lord Tyrell had hastened it, no doubt in response to the news the Dornishwomen had brought. Mathis Rowan was dead, and the siege broken. Connington had displayed Stannis' banners, leading the soldiers inside the castle think their king had come back. Together they had made short work of the token force that Tyrell had left with Mathis Rowan to continue the siege. After Rowan was dead, his army routed, the dragon had turned Stannis' men. By the time Ser Gilbert Farring, Stannis' castellan, had realized his mistake, it had been too late. The sellswords had gotten inside. Mace Tyrell was to blame for this. If the fool had not brought his army back with him…
She left her chambers when Mace Tyrell decreed that it was time to leave. Outside, the servants were clearing the usual paths from snow. It had snowed all night, and in the city the streets would be muddy. Her champion was beside her, ever armored in white and shining with the symbols of The Seven. She wondered whether it will make the High Sparrow love him or hate him after he kills his champion.
In the outer ward, she came upon the Dornish party. She could feel Ser Robert Strong tense up behind her as they approached. She had tried her best to keep him away from the Dornish as long as she could, but she knew she could not keep him from meeting any dornishman or women indefinitely. She was sure The Lady Nym had heard of the huge knight that was going to champion the queen in her trial by combat. She could see her now, eying Ser Robert as she came near, the dornish bastard who dared ask her rightful queen if she was allowed to wear clothes. The memory still made her bristle. Myrcell had returned that day from Dorne with that hideous scar on her face. All her relief and joy at the return of her daughter safe if not entirely whole had evaporated when she had learned the escort also contained their new master of laws. After they had been presented of the correspondence Ser Kevan had had with Nymeria Sand, she had wondered if her uncle taken leave of his wits, to allow another bastard, a women child of the Red Viper at that, on the council after the treachery of Aurane Waters? The only reason why she had even remained hospitable to the bitch was that there were new enemies in the field, enemies that could get help from Dorne if Dorne was offended in any way. Nymeria Sand knew this as well, Cersei could see it in the smug look she always seemed to wear on her face.
She did not look smug now though. Her face was calm, but Cersei could sense the fury beneath it. Cersei almost wished she would do something to cause trouble. They were surrounded by Tyrell men. A brawl between Dornish and roses will not give Doran Martell any cause to break with the Lannisters.
But the women kept her mouth in check. "So this is the great Ser Robert Strong of whom I have heard so much of?" she said to Cersei. "I have never seen a man so large in my life before, only a skull of the man of same size." She turned and smiled at the knight who silently, if somewhat tensely stood behind the queen, "I hope the father above lends strength to your arms Ser. You wouldn't want to die now, would you?"
Cersei intervened, deciding that maybe making a scene was not the best way to start the day of her trial, "No doubt he is grateful for your well wishes. He has taken a vow of silence until he vanquishes all of my enemies, otherwise he would tell you himself.
Some of the smugness returned to the women's eyes as she turned towards Cersei, "All of Her Grace's enemies" she said, "That will take some time, I am sure. Maybe It should be Ser Robert who should lead the host to Storm's End. He will surely find your grace's enemies there."
Did the girl think Cersei was going to send her shield away? "Who leads what host is a matter for the king's council to decide, not me."
"Aw, you are not going to join the council? Such a shame! My father wrote to me that it was very entertaining to be on a council with Lannisters and Tyrells."
Cersei was spared from answering by Ser Harys' arrival. Saying goodbye to Sand, She allowed Ser Harys to lead her to the litter. She was startled to see Lancel waiting by the litter.
"Your grace." He bowed to her. "His High Holiness has appointed me to provide you with an escort."
"Mace Tyrell was going to provide my escort." Cersei said, confused. She had not thought much about what to say to Lancel yet.
"The high septon insisted." Ser Harys told her. "Have no fear your grace, you wiil be safe with the knights of the faith." Lancel added.
As she had hoped, Lancel climbed in the litter beside her. "After the excitement of the mob the last time you were outside, it was not hard to convince Lord Tyrell about the litter." He told her as they were carried out from the Red Keep.
"His daughter he is making ride on a horse." Cersei pointed out to him. "So the smallfolk can fawn over her." Ser Harys had told her that Margaery was sharing Tommen's bed now, at behest of her father. It made her angry every time she thought about it. They were stealing her son away from her.
"The smallfolk love the Tyrells." Lancel was saying. "The roses have been nice to them. The soldiers frequent the brothels. Not many fights. Kingslanders have not forgotten that they were the ones that brought food for them after the famine of the war."
"Yet they have forgotten that it was them who started the war. If that Tyrell boy had not crowned Renly, there would have been no famine." Her cousin had always been a boy, lanky and thin. But now he wore a half starved look, and his eyes were bright, as if he didn't sleep anymore. Just like the High Septon. How far has he gone in his faith? "I need your help Lancel. They are stealing my son away from me."
"Mace Tyrell says he is just keeping him safe."
"Do you want Tommen to become a Tyrell? Are you a Lannister or not."
"I am a Lannister. But Tommen is a Baratheon."
Cersei flushed. Was this a plot? To make Cersei confess to Lancel before the trial in anger? "Why are you here then, if you do not mean to help me?"
Lancel looked down. "I am sorry. I did come here to help you." He turned his face away. "I was just…"
"What?"
"Nothing. Just know this. If I am to help you, we need the High Septon on our side."
"Why would he be on our side? He hates me!"
"He doesn't. Not if you win the trial. He is a just man. He knew why I wanted the charge of your escort. And still gave it to me. He feels that Mace Tyrell overreacted after my father's… after my father died."
Is he looking for comfort? That was something Cersei could spin. She took his hand in her own, "I was very sorry when Ser Kevan died. He was a good and true brother to mine own father." She lifted his chin, "You must now take his place. Leave for Casterley Rock with the High Septon's leave. When Mace Tyrell leaves for Storm's End, you can come back with an army to take the Red Keep back."
He shook his head. "Mace Tyrell won't leave. He has had Qyburn spread rumors that Ronnet Conningtons daughters were being mistreated in captivity. When Red Ronnet hears of them, he will want command, and Tyrell will give it to him. But even if he does, he will leave Randyll Tarly behind. And they won't let me leave."
"You don't know that."
"I do. Qyburn told me that they had men watching me. I had been asking the High Septon leave to go look for Jaime in the Riverlands. But when he put the matter before Mace Tyrell, Tyrell refused. He obviously is hoping Jaime will not return, or that he can make sure of it by sending a Tyrell search party. He will take me into captivity too if not for the High Captain"
No. She could not lose Jaime too. Qyburn had apparently been talking with Lancel a lot. But what amazed her was how mature her cousin had become. Maybe it was losing his father that had shocked him. Maybe Cersei could rely on him. "Then maybe you can try getting regentship. You are Ser Kevan's son after all. If the High Sparrow insists…"
"I have had the selfsame thought. But maybe Tyrell will concede to giving me the Hand's chair. Though I do not like the new chair he has had made." He smiled, "Lannisters are not naught to be feared even if my father's dead, and you are improsoned. Some of my father's guardsmen have told me that our cousin Daven has returned to Casterly Rock. He can bring the army you spoke of if needed."
"Yes, be sure to let Mace Tyrell know that." She took a deep breath. "What do you need me to do? I want to help."
"Just entreat to the High Septon of making Mace Tyrell make me hand after your trial is over. I will do the rest."
She couldn't help but smile. "Thank you Lancel. I knew I could always count on you! I will never forget this, I swear." She kissed him on both cheeks.
By this time they had reached the steps of Baelor. Lancel helped her out of the litter and led her into the sept. Ser Robert was already there, kneeling before the statue of the Warrior with another knight. "That is Ser Theodan the True, he will be championing the faith in the battle." Lancel told her.
He will be dying for the faith is what you mean, she thought as they knelt before the high septon. Cersei was not worried about the trial, her true test would come next, afterwards, with the High Septon. She had to get him to back Lancel for the position of King's Hand. And then all she had to do was start fucking him again.
