Game of Thrones Season 7 Chapter 11

Author's Note: Apologies for the delays with this chapter. My university had midterms so I had over three hundred exams from the nine classes I teach to correct. Also I moved to a new apartment so I have been quite busy. Too busy, in fact, to finish this chapter the way I wanted. The two parts it has took on a life of their own and grew quite large, and I will need one or two more chapters to finish the tale as I want it to be. I decided to put this part out now for those waiting for the story as I will not have time to get back to the story until next week. Thank you for your patience and kind (mostly) reviews.

Winterfell – Tyrion

The dragons came out of the sky while they were cleaning up the aftermath of the worst snowstorm Tyrion Lannister had ever seen. Of course, spending most of his life in the south he had not seen many snows, so that was not saying much. But even the greybeards who lived in Winterfell said the snowfall was one of the heaviest they had ever seen. Tyrion was standing in knee deep snow in the village outside Winterfell's east gate, not actually shoveling the snow out of the road leading to the Kingsroad, but lending moral support to those who were, including Bronn, Podrick, and the Hound.

"Come on, put your backs into it," he said, after he took another drink of wine from a nearly empty skin he carried.

The Hound turned and glared at him. "Little man, pick up a shovel and put your back into it or at least stop jawing at us and we'll be done faster."

"My back aches enough already," Tyrion replied. "By the way Clegane, it seems I must need remind you that your family is bannermen to mine, so calling me 'my lord' would be appropriate."

"I gave up all that ass kissing shit when I left King's Landing," the Hound replied in his rough growl as he dug deep into the snow.

"And don't forget your brother is Lord Lannister now, not you," Bronn said as he heaved a shovel full of snow to the left side. "So we don't have to call you shit."

"Yes, yes, very well," Tyrion said. "But I am still a Lannister and…"

"You fled," Bronn reminded him. "And now serve another master."

"Our Queen she is," Podrick said. "Lord Tyrion is her Hand. So we should call him lord. Lord Hand."

"Thank you, Pod. At least someone still has some loyalty."

"If I have to have call someone lord or king high and mighty I think I will swear my sword to the Starks," the Hound told them. "That Jon Snow has balls."

"It's your balls you're thinking with," Bronn said. "I've seen the way you look at Lady Stark."

The Hound held his shovel like he was going to hit Bronn and glared at him. "Say one more word and I'll forget my promise to Lord Stark not to kill you."

"Now, now," Tyrion said. "We mustn't fight each other, lads. Enough enemies will soon be coming down that road for us to work out our blood lust on."

"They ain't alive," Bronn said. "How we supposed to kill them?"

"Fire," Pod said. "When I was at Castle Black Jon Snow said we have to burn them. Cut their legs out from under them and then burn them. Fire arrows and oil and torches."

"All prepared already," Tyrion said. "I think Bronn's question is more of a philosophical one. How do you kill that which is already dead?"

"You don't kill them," the Hound said. "You destroy them. You…"

But he had no time to say anything else. A screech rent the air, and all eyes turned skyward. "It's her," said Tyrion as he spotted the dragons flying up the Kingsroad from the south. "She has come at last."

Everyone involved in snow clearing ran back towards the gates of the castle with panicked looks on their faces. "Calm down!" Tyrion shouted. "She will not harm you."

"Dragons," the Hound said, his face paling. "I'll be inside."

"What if she decides to land in there?" Bronn said with a grin, as the dragons flew over the castle in a circle, the Queen on the largest one, black Drogon, and someone was with her…someone…no, not him.

The Hound hesitated and then gave Bronn a dirty look. "Someday I will find out what you fear most, little man."

"The only thing I fear is a place with no women or wine…so, nothing really."

The dragons had circled once more and now Sansa, Ser Davos, Arya, Gendry, and Brienne joined them out in the town as the dragons came in for a landing at the edge of the town where it met the Kingsroad. Tyrion was still in awe of the great beasts despite spending time with them in the past. But the rest had never seen a dragon before, and the looks on their faces told him they were also in awe. They stood in stunned silence, mouths agape, eyes wide, and he imaged he must have looked the same the first time he saw one flying over that small boat he and Ser Jorah had sailed in to Meereen. Now behind him in the gateway and on the walls above were hundreds of people, all staring in awe.

But Tyrion had no eyes for the dragons now, or his Queen. His eyes were on the man with her, who was now unmistakably his brother Jaime.

Bronn looked over at Tyrion. "This is going to be trouble."

"Stay by my side no matter what," Tyrion quietly told him.

"Aye, not to worry."

"What the fuck is he doing with her?" the Hound asked and Tyrion wondered the same thing.

"The Kingslayer," Arya said in a low voice, full of hatred.

"No," Sansa said. "Leave it be, please."

"For now," her sister replied.

Tyrion got down on one knee and the rest followed, even the Stark girls and Davos, who Tyrion believed to be loyal to King Jon.

"My Queen, welcome to Winterfell," Tyrion said as they approached.

"Arise," she said and everyone stood. "Lord Tyrion, it is good to see you again."

"And you my Queen." And then he stared at his brother who was looking at him with his eyes hard and full of anger. "Jaime."

"Tyrion," he said curtly. "I believe we have much to…discuss."

Dany looked from one to the other. "That can wait. Lord Tyrion, I believe introductions are in order."

"Forgive me, my Queen. May I present Lady Sansa Stark and her sister Lady Arya. Lord Brandon Stark would be here but the boy is…well, he is…"

"A cripple," Bronn said and the Stark girls gave him dirty looks. "Well, he is, ain't he?"

"Our brother is unable to walk, Your Grace," Sansa said.

"Because of him," Arya added, looking at Jaime.

The Queen sighed. "I know there has been much bad blood between your families. I am here to settle all this and to help defend Winterfell from the White Walkers. What news of them?"

"They broke through the Wall and are on their way here," Davos told her. "I am Ser Davos, Your Grace, once Hand to the late King Stannis…and now advisor to another King."

"Yes. I see. And where is King Jon Snow?" she asked.

"We don't know," Tyrion told her. He quickly explained the situation.

"Then I must go at once," she said. "I would ask for food for my dragons. We have flown non-stop since morning from Moat Cailin. Once they are fed I must go in search of King Jon and his men."

Soon a few dead goats and a sheep were brought for her beasts, which scorched the meat and fed with gusto. As this went on the Queen and Jaime came inside and all the people of Winterfell and the remaining Vale men got down on their knees. She told them to rise, and then Sansa told everyone to go about their duties.

"Come, Your Grace," Sansa said. "We can take refreshment in the great hall while I send for my brother." She turned to the blacksmith. "Gendry, could you get Bran?"

"Yes, my lady," the big lad said but before he could move Jaime looked at him and Arya.

"You did well to escape from the city and avoid our attempts to find you," he said and then his eyes moved to Bronn. "With your help?"

"Aye. Figured your sister wanted my head next."

"Maybe so," Jaime replied.

As Gendry walked off, Arya pointed to Jaime, and then looked at the Queen. "He is not welcome here."

"I understand you have issues with Lord Jaime," Dany said. "But I have reached an accord with the Lannisters. We are now allies in the common fight against the great enemy."

"My sister approves?" Tyrion asked.

Jaime stared at him. "She's under arrest."

Tyrion was too stunned to react, and Brienne spoke first. "Under arrest? By whose order?"

"Mine," Jaime said, and now his demeanor changed, somehow softened a bit, as he looked at Brienne. "She...she ordered the city destroyed. She…killed so many. Thousands are dead. The Tyrells." His eyes moved back to Tyrion. "Lancel and Uncle Kevan as well."

"I heard. Where is Cersei now?"

"On her way to King's Landing," the Queen told him.

"For a waiting rope?" Tyrion asked.

"For a trial," Dany said.

Sansa seemed embarrassed by all this talk. "Come inside everyone…yes, Lord Jaime as well. I will not have it said a Stark refused food and drink to anyone, even an enemy."

A tense hour passed, as they sat in the great hall and ate a light meal and had drinks. The Queen did most of the talking, speaking at length of what was happening, but most everyone else was silent, and the tension was thick, with many unresolved issues. Tyrion sat on the right side of the Queen, as her Hand, and when Bran came he sat by the Queen's left side, as Lord of Winterfell. Sansa said they should have a proper feast but the Queen had no time.

She stood and so did the rest. "I must find Jon Snow," she said. "Lord Jaime, stay here. In combat I am better off alone on Drogon."

Jaime looked at the rest. "I may be a head shorter when you come back."

Sansa stared at him, anger in her eyes and on her words. "You have eaten under our roof and have guest right and as such we will not harm you. A tradition your father and Walder Frey seemed to have forgotten when they killed our mother and brother and so many more."

Jaime sighed. "That was their doing, not mine. Your mother freed me to help find you and return you and your sister to her. I failed her, but not without trying. You may notice I am short a hand, courtesy of Roose Bolton's scum. The same scum who I saved Brienne from when they wanted to rape and kill her. I killed the demon named Qyburn and I had my sister arrested for her crimes against the realm. Yet, my name is still Lannister. As a such am I to be tainted with the crimes of my father and sister?"

"No," Arya said. "Your crimes are all your own."

"There is no time for this," the Queen said in a stern voice. "I must go."

Without another word she turned and left the hall and they all followed, Bran in Gendry's arms. When he saw the dragons Bran was full of delight. "I would like to fly one some day."

"Perhaps," the Queen said with a smile, and then in moments she mounted Drogon and she and her dragons were gone north up the Kingsroad. A silence lingered and then all eyes turned to Jaime. Arya was the first to speak. "I don't care about guest right, Sansa. I say we throw him in the dungeons with Baelish."

"So that's where Littlefinger is," Jaime said.

Brienne stood by Jaime's side. "He is our ally now."

Sansa looked at both of them with despair, unsure by her look what to do, so Tyrion came to her rescue. "I believe if anyone deserves any vengeance against my brother it is the Queen above all. Yet she seems to have trusted him enough to fly with him at her back. I believe if she trusts him, so can we."

"Your words mean nothing here," Arya said to Tyrion.

"I am the Hand of the Queen," Tyrion retorted.

"And Bran is Lord of Winterfell," Arya shot back. "His word is law here." She turned to her brother. "Bran, did this man push you from the tower that day?"

"I…I don't know," Bran said.

"Well?" Arya said next, glaring at Jaime. "Did you do it?"

"Am I on trial?" he asked. "I suppose so. Then I shall wait for the Queen's return before answering any accusations."

"Very well," Sansa said quickly, trying to calm everyone down. "He does have guest right…but we cannot trust him. So…put him in a room, with guards on his door. When the Queen and Jon return then we will decide what to do. Do you agree…my lord?"

"Yes," said Bran.

From a look and nod from Sansa, the Hound and Bronn took out their swords and held them on Jaime. "Your sword, my lord," Bronn said to Jaime.

"I suppose it could be worse," Jaime said as he awkwardly unbuckled his sword belt and handed it to Bronn. Brienne had her hand on her sword hilt, and looked ready to fight but Jaime shook his head. "No. I am not worth it."

"You are," she replied, with that fierce glow on her face Tyrion had seen a few times when she thought she was in the right. "They don't know you like I do."

"It's too late. I came here to face my demons and have done with it all." Then his eyes fell on Tyrion. "It is time to talk."

"Yes, quite so."

They took him to an old tower, a room high up, so that by the time they reached the top, Tyrion's short legs were on fire. The room had a bed, a table and a few chairs, a small chamber pot, and a barred window. Two tallow candles on the table would do for light. There was a hearth, now empty, and a thick fur on the bed.

"I'll get some wood," the Hound said.

"And some wine," Tyrion said, his wine skin now empty, and the Hound nodded as he went out the door. Two Winterfell guards stood outside the door now. Jaime sat on the bed while Tyrion took a chair and Bronn leaned against the wall by the door.

"Back together again, I see," Jaime said to the two of them.

"Like old times," Bronn said. "Except for the cold."

"Bronn tells me you two had quite the adventure yourselves in Dorne," Tyrion said to his brother.

"Yes…quite," Jaime replied and then his face clouded over. "Until Myrcella died… poisoned."

"Who did it?" Tyrion asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this now before Jaime and he had to discuss the other thing.

"I am sure it was Ellaria Sand," Jaime said, now getting mad. "She kissed Myrcella before we boarded the ship and not a short time later she was dead. I saw the Dornish whore when I negotiated with the Queen. It took all my willpower not to pull my sword out and cut her down."

Now Tyrion began to get angry as well. "When I was in Meereen I heard of Myrcella's death, but not who killed her. This Ellaria Sand calls herself my ally, yet she had my niece killed. Does the Queen know our ally killed Myrcella?"

"No, at least I did not tell her," Jaime replied. "I want the Dornish whore's blood, Tyrion. I want her to scream and watch the light leave her eyes."

"At least we can agree on that much," Tyrion said. "And Tommen? What happened there?"

Jaime sighed heavily. "Cersei. Damn her to hell. She destroyed the sept, with Tommen's wife inside. He loved her...and when he knew she was gone he jumped from the Red Keep."

"Gods," Tyrion said, wishing the Hound would get back soon for he needed that wine. "Cersei…tell me the rest."

So Jaime spoke, on all that had happened since Bronn left. "If I had known what she and Qyburn would do I would have stopped them," Jaime said when he came to how the city was destroyed "At least Qyburn is dead now. I killed him myself. Ser Gregor is finally dead as well. Lord Tarly took his head off, and we burned his body to make sure he stayed dead."

"Clegane is finally dead?" Bronn asked, just as the Hound came back with an armload of wood and a wine skin in hand.

"What's this?" the Hound asked as he dropped the wood by the hearth.

"Your brother is dead," Jaime told him

"Aye, and has been for a long time now."

"No, now he is really dead," Tyrion said. "Lord Tarly cut his head off and Jaime burned his body."

The Hound was quiet for a moment and then nodded once. "Aye…good riddance." Then he handed the wine skin to Bronn and left them.

Bronn took a drink and handed it to Tyrion. "Suppose he'll have to find someone else to dream about killing now." Bronn said. Then as he bent to the wood to start a fire he suddenly looked worried. "Hope it ain't me."

"Just stay off his bad side," Tyrion advised as he wiped away a bit of wine that had dribbled on his chin. He offered the wine to Jaime but he refused. "Bronn, when the fire is lit, please leave us. I need speak to my brother alone."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Jaime won't kill me."

"I'm not so sure about that," Jaime said.

"I am sure," Tyrion replied. "We are all that is left of our family, Jaime. And if you want to keep your head, you will need me to convince the Queen."

"I have already done that," Jaime told him. "The price was my exile. And Cersei's head."

Bronn grunted. "You're daft if you think she'll let you run off a free man."

"She promised," Jaime said. "We signed papers, in front of many witnesses."

Tyrion sighed. "The law and such agreements mean little these days. Our father and sister saw to that. Bronn is right. They can change their minds at any time. Let us also not forget the Stark's want some vengeance for what they believe you did to Bran. Bronn, leave us, please."

Bronn finished lighting the fire and left without another word and then Jaime asked what Tyrion had been expecting.

"Why did you kill our father?"

"Many reason," Tyrion replied. "All good. But mostly because Father had been wanting me dead since I was born. He knew I had nothing to do with Joffrey's death yet he held that mockery of a trial."

"I know," Jamie said, his voice full of regret. "He did it all to trap me, to make me promise to resign from the Kingsguard and become Lord Lannister when he died. Well, he got his wish, but not the way he had hoped. You saw to all that."

"What was I supposed to do? Lie down and take it?"

"No," Jaime replied, getting angry again. "You were supposed to say you were guilty and take the black and all would have been done with!"

"But I wasn't guilty…you know that, don't you?"

"I do. But who really killed Joffrey? Was it Sansa?"

"No…but she was tricked into playing a role in the act. That necklace she was wearing had poison in it, as we learned at the trial. That much was true."

"So she did put the poison in the wine!"

"No…Sansa believes it was Olenna Tyrell."

"What? That old crone? But why? Her granddaughter was about to be Queen, for gods' sake!"

"Ah, yes…but she did not want Joffrey as her granddaughter's husband. I believe I know why. Joffrey's cruel streak was known to all, including the Tyrells. And then there was nice, sweet Tommen, who loved his cats, and had not a mean bone in his body. So, why suffer Joffrey for a husband, for a king, when Tommen would do much better."

"Margaery knew?"

"No…never, I am sure. You saw her face at the wedding. That was not acting."

"Who gave Sansa the necklace? Was it Ser Dontos?"

"Yes," Tyrion told him. "And Baelish gave it to him."

Jaime stared at him and barely said the word. "Baelish?"

"Yes," Tyrion said and then his mind exploded with an idea, a way to rid himself of one of his many problems. He spoke quickly. "He planned it all, with the crone. He spirited Sansa away to the Vale in a ship, after his men killed Ser Dontos. He is in love with Sansa, and would do anything for her."

"In love? She is a child."

"As I said before I was forced to marry her. Not a child anymore…not after what Ramsey Bolton did to her."

"What did he do?"

"He raped her, repeatedly, so I have heard from the whispers of the good people of Winterfell who survived the Bolton rule. Ramsey had his father killed, and then his father's wife and newborn son. As for what he did to Sansa…his own wife…a monster he was, and Baelish knew it even when he arranged the marriage. Baelish has done much more. It was he who planted the idea that I tried to harm Bran Stark in Lord and Lady Stark's heads, which is how our war started."

Now Jaime was truly shocked. "But…how do you know this?"

"Varys was there when he told them. Theon Greyjoy also heard it from Lady Stark."

Jaime stood from the bed. "He must die!"

"Agreed…but it is complicated."

"No, it isn't. Why is he still living?"

"Politics. We need the Vale men, and Baelish is well loved by the Lord of the Vale. Of course, once Lord Arryn hears Baelish may have had something to do with his mother's death…"

"What? Another death on his head? This castle is full of Vale men. Why have they not acted? Why haven't the Starks?"

"Again, politics. Sansa fears the reaction of the realm if she has him killed without a fair hearing."

"You people. Thinking too much, when acting is what is needed!"

"Like you acted when you shoved Bran Stark out that window?"

Jaime sat again and hung his head low, all the fire going out of him. "Stupid," he said in a low voice. "He saw us, Cersei and I…we were…"

"I can guess."

"So…I pushed him."

Tyrion sighed. "So it is true. Who paid the footpad with the dagger?"

"Not Cersei or I, that is certain."

"No, I am sure it was not you. Perhaps one mystery we may never solve. As for the rest, we must not ever tell anyone."

"They suspect," Jaime said. "What does he remember?"

"Little. I heard he dreams sometimes of the tower and a man with golden hair. But that would mean little if you had a fair hearing. Which you won't get here for certain."

"I wish I could go back to that day and stop myself," Jaime said. "All our misery came from that one act."

"No," Tyrion said. "You are not to blame for the rest. Only one man can take blame for this war and for making us weak in our hour of need. He also killed your son. And he is in a dungeon below."

Jaime looked at Tyrion with a fierce light in his eyes. "He must die."

"Yes," Tyrion said and then he reached on his belt for his dagger he always carried and he took it off and handed it to Jaime hilt first.

Jaime took it with his good hand and held the blade out towards Tyrion. For a moment Tyrion thought he would stab him and Jaime knew he thought that.

"No, little brother, I won't kill you," Jaime said. "I understand why you did what you did. It doesn't mean I forgive you. If I survive what is to come, we may never even speak again. But for now we will have peace. Find a way to get me to Baelish. I will do the rest."

"They won't like it."

"So be it. If it is my last act I will die knowing at least I have done one good thing in this world."


The Goldroad – Cersei

Cersei's first thought after being arrested by her brother's order was to kill herself. Slice open her wrists, or hang herself somehow, or maybe take some poison. She would not give them the satisfaction of watching her be humiliated again in that disgusting city she loathed with every fiber of her being. She would also cheat the prophecy made by the witch women outside of Lannisport when she was a girl. All her children had died, that much was true, but Cersei would not be pulled down by someone younger and more beautiful. Daenerys Targaryen would not have her final victory be told in Cersei's blood.

Wanting to kill herself was one thing but actually doing it was another. The will was there, but not the opportunity. It seemed as if Lord Lewyn knew what she had in mind for she was never left alone from the time she was arrested. No sharp utensils was she given for her meals, only a wooden spoon for the soup and porridge they gave her. Her cup was made of wood as well, fired so hard she could not break it. Eyes were on her always and two women, two old septas, stayed in the room with her when night came. She hated septas and did not even bother trying to engage the fanatics in conversation, to win them to her side, for she knew it would do no good.

Three days passed before the roads east to the capital were clear enough to travel. Fifty men escorted the sleigh she was carried in. A teamster drove the sleigh while two strong knights and Lord Lewyn himself rode with her.

When Cersei saw him about to join her in the sleigh it was the first time she had seen him since her arrest. She gave him a withering stare. "This is how you repay my house after all your years of loyalty?"

"My lady, I am still loyal to your house. To your brother at least, if not you."

"I still don't believe Jaime ordered this. You are being tricked, you fool."

"We shall have plenty of time to discuss this on the way."

Time they had, for the journey was slow, the road east still not clear everywhere, and on occasion the men had to get off their horses, pull out shovels from the back of one of the supply wagons, and dig the way forward. Cersei cared not, for the longer they spent, the more time she would have to plan somehow to escape, either by killing herself or by running away. But again they kept a sharp eye on her, and not for a moment was she left alone.

Conversation with Lord Lewyn was lacking, for she wanted little to do with this traitor and he was a dull man to begin with. He knew nothing about anything she was interested in anyway, so the topics they had to discuss were few.

The second day they came upon the villages the dragon fire had destroyed. The snow was less deep here, the lower layers melted by dragon fire. In the village and on the sides of the road were the remains of many men, mostly charred bones, and scorched armor. One burnt body was so huge it could only be Gregor Clegane, as had been reported. He had no head, but she knew that armor he wore, and knew he was dead. They searched a bit at her request, but none of the remains she could say were Qyburn. But by now she felt he must be dead. Jaime wanted to kill him, and must have done so.

After three more cold dreary days on the road they came to the upper Blackwater River. The river was flowing well, with no ice, so Lord Lewyn decided Cersei would take the rest of the journey downstream by river barge. A large one was located nearby, with a boatsman who knew the river well. He would man the tiller, and Cersei, Lord Lewyn, the two knights, and ten men to serve as rowers climbed on board.

The fools did not know it but they had made it easy for her to kill herself now. Cersei sat in the middle of the barge, with men around her wearing armor, all of them except the knights and Lord Lewyn and helmsman pulling on the oars, and she knew not one would risk their lives to save a woman who would soon be dead anyway.

Her hands had never been bound so it made it all the easier. She just suddenly stood and took two steps and before anyone could react she had leaped between two rowers off the barge's right side into the river.

The shock of the cold water paralyzed her, making her heart seem to seize, her muscles contract, the cold water seeming to shear away her flesh and wrap itself around her bones, like a knife scraping it all away, making it impossible for her to move, and she was glad, for it was time to die. She felt herself suddenly rising up, her body's natural buoyancy lifting her, so she opened her mouth to swallow some water…but found she could not breathe it in. Something inside her made her block the water from her throat, and it clamped tight even as the last bit of air she had started to disappear.

And then came pain as her hair seemed to be pulled from its roots, a hand dragging her from the water, into the air, and she gasped and filled her lungs, and then she was hauled up by shouting men and deposited on the bottom of the barge.

"Gods!" Lord Lewyn gasped, breathing heavily, and Cersei saw his whole right arm and shoulder were soaking wet. It was he who had saved her. "You cannot escape," he said. "The cold will kill you."

Through chattering teeth she replied. "It was not my intention of escaping."

He stared at her. "You fear what they will do to you in the city."

"Yes! I will not suffer that torment again!"

"I understand, my lady. But understand that I cannot let you do that."

"My lord," one knight said. "We must get her on shore and build a fire or she will soon be dead of the cold."

They landed on the south bank, the north bank being too high at this point in the river. The men quickly built a fire and a tent was raised. Lord Lewyn inspected Cersei's luggage bag to make sure she had nothing in it that could do her harm and then left her alone in the tent so she could change clothing and dry off. At the flap Cersei hesitated. "No," she said. "Better I die of the cold than the fire she has waiting for me…or worse."

"Maybe so," Lord Lewyn replied. "But if you will not change your clothing I will be forced to tell my men to do so. Do it yourself or I will command it."

She glared at him. "Once I was your Queen! My father was your lord!"

"Yes, my lady, but not anymore." He held open the tent flap and she walked inside, seething.

They sat around the fire as night fell, eating some of the rations they had brought with them. Cersei was drier now, but shivered from the cold despite the fire. She had no desire to eat but her stomach rumbled so she took some bread and cheese and a drink of wine.

Suddenly there was the sound of horses approaching. The knights and other armed men stood and drew out their swords.

"Who goes there?" shouted Lord Lewyn as the horses stopped nearby, the darkness making it difficult to see any banners or sigils.

"Knights of the Reach," a calm voice said as a big man in armor on foot came into the circle of light made by the fire. He was tall and brawny, heavily bearded, dark of hair. On his surcoat was the golden rose of House Tyrell. "I am Ser Holten Bryce, in service with House Tyrell. We are on patrol. Who are you and what business have you in these parts?"

"Lord Lewyn of Deep Den. Escorting the former Queen Cersei to King's Landing. We are taking a barge downriver but we had…an accident…and are stopped here for the night."

"Mayhaps it better we escort you into the city, my lord," the knight replied. "If you truly have the Queen with you, your small party may not fare well."

Cersei stepped forward between the men. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

"Your Grace…" the knight began but Lord Lewyn cut him off.

"That is not her title now. Lady Cersei or Lannister will do."

"So be it," Ser Holten said. "My lady, the city's people are camped outside its walls in many places. If they see you, there may be trouble. Your small party will not be enough to protect you."

Cersei wanted to die, but not at the hands of a raving mob. "I see. What do you suggest, ser?" she asked,

"Lord Tarly is camped not far from here, my lady, with the bulk of the Reach army, heading for the capital. I suggest you enter the city with us as protection."

It was quickly agreed to. They left the riverman with his barge, paid well by Lord Lewyn, and they took their supplies and left with the patrol. Cersei was given a place to ride with Ser Holten on his horse, but as the rest were on foot it took some walking, so almost two hours later they found Lord Tarly's camp.

Cersei thought to somehow get the knight's dagger on his belt away from him, but she was exhausted by then, and felt a weakness all over, and knew she was getting sick. She fell into a semi-slumber as they rode and was surprised when they reached the camp. She wanted nothing but to go to bed, but when Lord Tarly heard she was here, he insisted she come to his tent. Cersei was more awake now, and agreed, wanting answers about her brother's betrayal.

In Lord Tarly's large tent she found the Lord of Horn Hill with Lord Lewyn. The table they were sitting at was small but covered in many dishes of the Reach's fine food. Two braziers gave off heat and some candles provided light.

The two lords stood as she entered. "I will take my leave," Lord Lewyn said.

"Going home?" Cersei asked in an indifferent tone.

"Yes," he replied. "Lord Tarly has lent us some horses to make our way to the Goldroad and home. We will leave in the morning, my lady."

She stared at him. "If I survive all this, your head will be the first one I come for."

For a moment he looked worried but then he shook his head and sighed. "My lady, the gods will see justice given to the people of the realm. I am sure we will never meet again. Goodbye, my lord. My lady, may the gods have mercy on your soul." And then he was gone.

Tarly was still standing by the table. A quick glance and Cersei saw nothing with a sharp edge except for the dagger on his belt, which would be difficult to get from him. He saw her looking at it and then grunted.

"No, there will be no easy way out for you. Lord Lewyn told me what you did."

"Then kill me now and be done with it."

He shook his head. "The people will have justice. Sit if you wish, and eat. If not, you will be escorted to a tent. If I have to tie you and chain you I will, so let us not have any foolishness while you are in my custody."

She sat, for she wanted answers only he could give her. A squire came and poured them wine and put food on plates and then he left.

Cersei gulped the wine and reached for the flagon and poured more and then took a sip. As she felt the wine flowing through her she relaxed a bit.

"So, my brother betrayed me," she began. "Is that how the historians will write it?"

"Yes," Tarly said. "Though I wonder who really betrayed who. Lord Jaime had no idea you were going to destroy the city."

"Not telling my brother was not a betrayal. It was a precaution. If he knew, the fool would have tried to do something heroic, like he did the last time."

"Last time?"

"Didn't he tell you? Mad Aerys wanted to destroy the city as well and Jaime stopped him."

"Yes, I have heard of this. As for your brother, after Qyburn tried to kill him he had…"

"What's this?" Cersei asked, completely taken off guard.

"Your man Qyburn commanded Gregor Clegane to kill Jaime. He almost did, but I took Clegane's head off with my sword." He quickly provided the rest of the details of the encounter, including Jaime killing Qyburn, which Cersei had already guessed had happened.

"So he thought I ordered him killed?" she asked, wondering if this is why Jaime had betrayed her.

"No, not at all. He knew you would never do that. It was all Qyburn's doing. Jaime knew the only way to save his men was to bend the knee. The dragons…there was nothing they could do. So many died."

"I saw the place where it happened."

"So you understand why we must bend to her will."

Cersei snorted. "Your Tyrell masters will kiss anyone's ass as long as they are in power."

"I have few masters left. You saw to that."

"Then who is giving the orders from Highgarden?"

"Lady Olenna."

This time Cersei laughed. "That old crone. Ordering you around like a bunch of children, is she?"

Tarly's face reddened. "You think if you insult me enough I will kill you? Not likely. Lady Olenna has a different fate in mind for you. Burning at the stake."

She wasn't surprised at this news. "Revenge she wants, but will the dragon lady allow it?"

"Hard to say. Many want your head. Burnt, hung, decapitated, bathed in dragon fire…the method matters not. You will die."

"I know. But first tell me what my brother said to her to convince her not to hang him as well."

"He told her she needed his army to fight the white demons in the North."

"She believes that as well?" Cersei asked in a scoffing manner. "She may be a bigger fool than I thought."

"Many believe it now, her included. My son Sam is in the Night's Watch. He saw them, he killed one. He said Jon Snow and his men fought thousands of them at Hardhome and he barely escaped with his life."

"Until I see one myself I will doubt it."

"I once felt the same," Tarly replied. "Now I wonder. So many stories, there must be some truth to them."

Cersei took another sip of wine and got to the point. "Surely she did not let my brother just walk free. What did he have to promise her?"

"Exile, across the Narrow Sea, when the wars are done. He actually asked that you go with him." Cersei felt a slight bit of hope but it was quickly dashed by Tarly's next words. "She refused, and then she asked for your head, which he agreed to."

"Liar!" she retorted as her blood began to rise.

"No, my lady, I do not lie. A condition of his army joining hers was you be arrested. He hesitated but a moment and then agreed."

Cersei still did not believe it. "Where is Jaime now? In chains? In a black cell?"

"I do not know, but I doubt it. The last I saw of him was by the Blackwater bridge. They were planning to move the armies to Harrenhal but I believe the snows have slowed them, as they have my army. We should be in the city in a few days now the weather is better."

He stood and called for his guards. Without another word they took her away to a tent. It had a small cot with blankets on it and a brazier for warmth. She could have set the tent and bedding on fire, but even in her desperate state she didn't have the courage to die in such a terrible way.

The next morning Cersei awoke with a shiver, feeling a chill in her bones. Then she began to cough, and she felt feverish, but she said nothing to anyone about it. Breakfast was brought to her tent, a bowl of hot porridge with honey in it and some ale to wash it down. The guard stood there as she ate. Poor fare it was, but she cared not, for her stomach was beginning to felt queasy from just this simple meal. But she kept it down, not wanting to appear weak in front of those who held her.

It took two days to reach the city and when they arrived the Blackwater was frozen. The cold had been getting worse each day and the morning of the day they arrived was the most bitter cold Cersei had ever felt in her life. The whole Reach army was suffering, shivering in their armor, breathing out huge clouds of steam. They were not well prepared for winter, for their clothing was too thin to hold off the cold. Cersei was not much better, and had only a large cloak to help her stay warm. When they reached the riverbanks, Lord Tarly sent some men across to test the ice. It was strong, but when a horse tried it fell through.

"We will wait a day and see how it is on the morrow," Tarly declared. He sent messengers across to send word they were on the south bank of the Blackwater but could not yet get the heavy horses and supplies across. When camp was set up, he had Cersei brought to his tent.

Lord Tarly was not alone. Two men were with him, one she recognized as Ser Holten Bryce. On the table lay a suit of armor, a bit small she thought for any of these men. Then she realized what it was for.

"So, you will sneak me into the city in that get up?"

"Yes," Tarly said. "It worked when you left. It should do to get you inside without having a riot on our hands."

She suddenly sneezed and had a fit of coughing. "Are you ill, my lady?" Ser Holten asked, concern in his voice.

A cup of wine was put in her hands and after she gulped some she felt better. "No, just a cough. The air is so dry."

Tarly looked at her with suspicion. "Ser Holten, call for the maester."

The maester had her sit on a chair and felt her forehead, and listened closely as she breathed, a wheezing rasp she could not hide. He stood and turned to Tarly. "She is ill, my lord. A fever and her chest is congested."

"To bed with her," Tarly said, looking worried. "Mulled wine and whatever hot poultices you have."

"At once, my lord," the maester replied.

Cersei managed to grin. "Afraid you will be cheated of seeing me die in some horrible fashion?"

"I care not how you die," Tarly retorted. "But others might, so we will do our best to make sure you live long enough to be punished for your crimes."

For two days she laid under thick blankets in a well heated tent as the fever raged and then broke on the second day. She sweated much and lost weight and could barely eat but once the fever broke the maesters said she could move into the city. However, they cautioned that she rest and have no undue excitement.

The ice had thickened enough for men and horses to cross over the river by then. Ser Holten helped her put on her armor disguise in her tent. In days past she would have tried to seduce him, to bring him to her side, but she was too ill in body and mind to even muster the strength to do so.

When he was finished he put the visor down on her helmet so only her eyes were visible. "It will do," he said.

"Don't I even get a weapon?"

He chuckled slightly. "No, afraid not." Then he grew serious. "I have no love for you or your family, but I fear what they will do to you."

She felt a surge of her old energy and grasped his arm. "Then do your duty as a knight and protect me."

He gently removed her hand. "That I cannot do. The die has been cast, my lady. Come, it is time."

She sagged and gave up. There was no hope, from any quarter. Soon at least she would see Jaime, and know the truth of all that had happened.

But it was not to be. Tarly gave her the news as she prepared to mount a horse they gave her. "Your brother and the new Queen are gone north three days past, with her dragons, to fight the white demons."

"What's this?" she asked. "More lies?"

"I am afraid not. Sansa Stark sent word that the Wall has fallen and Castle Black is overrun."

She just stared at him. "That's impossible. The Wall has never fallen."

"It seems the impossible is possible these days. Come, we will learn more in the city."

"But…Jaime went with her? On her dragons?"

"So it seems."

They helped her mount up and lead her horse through the trees to the river bank. There across the wide river was the city of her nightmares. As a girl she had loved the capital, with all its riches and pageantry of the court. The smells she even got used to, and in later years when she was Queen the whole place bowed down to her. But it was not her they bowed down to, not really. They bowed to her husband, and her father, and Cersei was respected only because of her marriage and her family. That she had learned when it had all fallen to pieces, and she had been forced into that humiliating walk. But she had her revenge on them.

Now she could see up close the damage she had wrought. Whole sections of the walls were gone. Once tall buildings which reached higher than the walls were no longer visible. The Sept of Baelor was already gone, and now the Dragonpit of old was half destroyed, and the Red Keep was not as mighty as it once was. Still, it stood, testifying to the strength of stone and skill of its builders, or the weakness of wildfire to do the job right.

As they crossed on the ice the horses had a hard time with their footing so the progress was slow. Cersei could see all along the river bank were crowds of people, and hundreds of tents and crudely built shelters, along with dozens of small columns of smoke coming from campfires. She felt her tension rise, for she did not want to fall prey to these people, knowing what they would to do her for what she had done to them. Ser Holten sensed her unease.

"Not to worry, my lady, we will protect you."

"Only until I am in the black cells," she replied in a tartly manner, which she regretted soon after for he was doing all he could under the circumstances to see her safe. "Apologies," she said, struggling to get the word out as it felt unfamiliar on her tongue.

He did not reply right away and perhaps had not heard her but he had. "Queens should not apologize," he said in a quiet voice.

"I am no longer a queen," she answered. He had no answer to that for it was true.

Tarly rode back to where they were. "Keep close by her, but not in a suspicious manner," he warned the knights and men at arms around her. "My lady, do not speak or raise your helmet visor. In a short time we will be in the city."

Cersei felt her fear rise, and panic bean to set in the closer they got to the north bank. Her horse sensed her fear and started to shy away from the path it was following, as if she had willed it to turned to the right. But Ser Holten blocked her. "Steady," he said in a calm voice and she took some comfort from his confidence.

It went as they said it would. The crowds did not notice her, and most cared not to even bother looking at the men filing into the city. Weary they were of war, Cersei guessed, and one more army meant more fighting perhaps. The faces she saw were pinched, and had a hungry look in their eyes, and also a look of despair, a look she was sure would be on her own face if she had a Myrish looking glass to see her reflection.

The entered by the Mud Gate and once inside the destruction was everywhere to see. Whole blocks had been reduced to piles of shattered brick and masonry. Huge gaps were in the streets, and piles of rubble as well, and despite hundreds of people working to clear the streets, there was no clear direct path from the Mud Gate to the Red Keep. They had to take a roundabout route, passing through most of the city, winding their way through places once known but now so unfamiliar. Cersei would have enjoyed the view, knowing she had been the cause of it, except she knew they would have their vengeance on her in one way or another soon.

As they finally reached the Red Keep, or at least what was left of it, Cersei's thoughts drifted to Jaime…and his betrayal. For that is what it was, clearly now more than ever. There had been no trick it seemed. No scheme…if Tarly told the truth. The proof would be in who met them. If not the dragon girl, then she must truly be gone away to the North and perhaps Jaime was with her after all, though they knew not yet why he had gone with her.

In the courtyard before the broken doors of the main part of the inner Red Keep they were met, by a group with the sun and spear of Dorne as their sigils…and Lord Varys as well. The plump eunuch was standing there as if all was right in the world…and it was in his world. The traitor who had helped Tyrion kill her father had come home. She should never have trusted him all those years, should have told Robert or Jaime to kill him.

Beside the eunuch stood a tall bearded man, very handsome, adored in strange armor and clothing, of the east perhaps. Behind them were three men who could only be Dothraki by their clothing, color, and long braided hair. Cersei had never met one before but had heard many stories of them.

And in the center of them all was a women she had met before, at her son's wedding. Ellaria Sand…the one who Jaime said had killed Myrcella.

There she stood, dressed in finery, with a fur lined cape on her shoulders, as if she was now Queen of Westeros. She had heard men in the camp saying she was now calling herself "Princess Ellaria" and there was even a rumor that Daenerys would name her as heir until she had a child…a move that Cersei knew nobody would support, for the woman was bastard born, and could never rise to the Iron Throne. But here at least she seemed to be in command for now, with many of her men at her back, including three dark-haired, dark-eyed girls behind her, all three well armed, one with a whip, one with a spear, the third with daggers at her hips.

Tarly climbed off of his horse and the rest of the men did as well, Cersei following their moves, with Ser Holten close by her right side. Tarly approached the Dornish woman. "We would like words with the Queen," he said without dipping his head or calling her any title at all. The Reach and Dorne had no love for each other, and Tarly was not a man who would bend to someone from Dorne, especially not a woman.

Ellaria must have been used to such treatment for she seemed to care not. "The Queen is gone north, as we told your messengers two days ago, Lord Tarly."

"Why?" he demanded.

Varys answered. "The White Walkers have broken through the Wall. Jon Snow's army is in retreat to Winterfell. This is from Sansa Stark." He pulled a raven scroll from his robes and handed it to Tarly, who read it and then grunted.

"So, all the tales are true," Tarly said. "Where is Lord Jaime?"

Again Varys answered. "The Queen's dragons needed rest and food at various places still controlled by Lannister forces. Harrenhal and the Twins. Lord Jaime went to ease her passage, riding behind her as a passenger on the largest dragon."

"A foolish risk," Tarly replied. "He could easily kill her, push her off her dragon."

"Doubtful," said the tall man from the east. "If he pushed her off Drogon he would soon follow her. Dragons will take a passenger, but not without the dragon master as well. We made sure he knew this before they left. As for those soldiers, if they would not obey Jaime's orders to lay down arms, then three dragons could easily take care of that."

"Dragons can be killed," Tarly retorted. "So can she, by just one arrow."

"The risk was necessary," Varys said. "If she cannot stop the white demons in the North, then we will all suffer greatly."

"Enough of this," Ellaria said. "Lord Tarly, your men reported you had a valuable prisoner. But I do not see her anywhere. Bring her to me…now."

"I do not answer to Dorne," Tarly spat.

Oh, this was good. They still hate each, Cersei thought. Maybe…

"Come, come," said Varys, breaking the tension. "We are all allies now, and have a new enemy to consider. If you have Cersei, Lord Tarly, let us get this over with and on to more pressing business."

Cersei had had enough. She took the helmet off, dropped it with a clatter, and stepped out of the ranks behind Tarly.

"I'm here," she said. "But I will not surrender to a whore from Dorne."

She had expected to shock the Dornish woman but Ellaria only laughed. "Oh, I know what I am. All the realm knows," Ellaria said. "Can you say the same for yourself?"

"I am the daughter of Tywin Lannister," Cersei shot back, her head held high. "Wife of a King! Queen of the Realm!"

"Brother fucker, king killer!" Ellaria snarled in reply. "Destroyer of this city! I should give you to the people so they can tear you limb from limb! Seize her!"

"That will not happen!" Tarly shouted in reply and all the men of his party drew out their swords as did the Dornish.

Cersei felt herself go faint, felt her legs tremble, and, coupled with the weakness of her recent illness, her body had had enough. She fell to her knees, and let go a sob, as Ser Holten bent to her side to help steady herself.

"See!" Ellaria shouted with glee as she pointed to Cersei. "The guilty always confess in the end, whether to men or the gods. She knows what she has done. Now let her suffer for it!"

"We cannot have this," Varys said, trying to be calm. "The Queen promised her a fair trial."

Ellaria Sand stared at Varys and then back to Tarly, and once more back to Varys. Finally she merely shrugged. "What does it matter how she dies? Soon it will be done with." She spat in front of where Cersei was bent over, and then turned to leave. "Take the whore to the dungeon."

But Cersei was not done yet. "Ellaria," she said and the woman from Dorne turned back.

"What now?"

Cersei spoke, but the words were a mumble, so low no one could hear. Ellaria Sand came closer. "Say what you will woman and then it is the black cells for you."

"I just have one more thing to say," Cersei replied and then she sprang to her feet, Ser Holten's dagger in her right hand, and in a heartbeat it was in the Dornish woman's throat, ripping across and tearing out her life in one thrust.

"THIS IS FOR MYRCELLA!" Cersei screamed as the blood flew and the woman of Dorne collapsed gasping at her feet.

And then as Ellaria Sand died all was chaos. Hands grabbed Cersei from behind and pulled her back, and as bedlam ensued all around her exhaustion and weakness finally took over and she mercifully passed out.