CERSEI V

Queen Cersei Lannister had waited on word of her brother for near two days, now.

She watched her son in the Throne Room, hearing to the needs of his people whilst concealing the fact that a battle was imminent and fast approaching. Her stomach had dropped in that small council meeting. She had always presumed to hand her reign down to Sarafine; however, now she couldn't be sure that they would be so lucky.

William sat the Throne with grace and strength; the picture of honour and leadership despite his circumstance. Every person that approached had their preconceived ideas of her son; she heard the whispers. Young, inexperienced, careless. And he proved every one of them wrong. He was the perfect combination of his father and mother and she smiled upon his every decision, yet she could not stop herself worrying for him.

The Targaryen girl was coming and whilst Cersei believed in William with every bone in her body - he'd never fought in a battle and never seen the truth of war. If he was slain as King in his first year…she couldn't bear the thought. Instead, she held her head high, as did he, maintaining the perfect facade.

Court soon ended for the day, William requesting a walk with his mother through to her chambers to discuss something of importance, or so she imagined. He stood from the Throne and she followed him from her position to his right as he left the room,

"I trust you're well," he began.

"As well as one can be in our circumstance, yes," she breathed, linking her arm through his, "and you?"

He inhaled deeply; the crushing weight of the Kingdoms almost visible on her son's shoulders.

"Any day now…she'll be here,"

"You seem defeated," she observed.

"I feel defeated,"

"You cannot, William," she insisted, her son stopping in his tracks.

Oh, how he looks like him, she thought, placing a hand on his face, "you can't give up the fight before it has begun, my son,"

"I haven't given up…there's still a battle to come," he began walking again.

"See? Nothing's over yet," she encouraged.

"I know…I'm just tired,"

"How is your arm?" she asked, gently placing a hand over where the scar lay.

"Better," he breathed, "Sarafine has been healing it for me,"

"She is so sweet, your princess," Cersei smiled, "I thank the Gods for her,"

"As do I,"

"You really do love her, don't you? As your woman, I mean," she asked, already somewhat knowing the answer.

"With everything in me, mother," he looked to the ground, a smile playing at his lips.

"And the wedding?" she pushed, hopefully.

"Soon, once the battle is over and if we succeed…soon after," he breathed.

"When we succeed," she corrected, desperately hoping that the plans William and his council had in place were sufficient to hold the capital.

"When we succeed," her son smiled, "I hope so,"

"I'm glad to hear you've changed your mind about the timing," she returned to her topic of choice, "what changed?"

"She told me she was ready," he explained, "Uncle Tyrion thinks it provides a good distraction also,"

"Which the people need…after the riot," she reminded herself.

The Queen Regent had seen war and had witnessed death; but nothing could've prepared her for the threats against her children. She felt her body turn to ice when the dagger struck her eldest son; no scream even escaping her mouth as it made contact with the skin she bore from her own. The terror filled her bones and made her weaker for each moment she could not see him. He was strong, but he was a fighter like his father and she worried he would get himself in quite the predicament if he did not prioritise his own safety.

Sometimes Cersei wondered if William forgot he was the King. If he forgot he was one of the most important people alive or one of the most influential, at that. One of the most loved and most despised. One of the finest blood but of the worst destruction. William seemed so perfect to her that sometimes she questioned it.

He was born out of a war, in truth. She was married to Robert and William was her gift to her beloved husband and the Kingdom he'd fought to defend against the corruption that threatened to swallow it all. Yet William carried himself with the integrity of any man; born out of an alliance-marriage resulting from a war, he carried himself honourably all the same.

The day he was born was one of the greatest days she could recall. Her son. She looked into his deep brown eyes for the first time and fell hopelessly in love. It didn't matter to her whether he was cruel or kind, brave or weak, handsome or ugly - she knew that she would love him all the same. The heir to the kingdoms and the future leader of the realm, he was. But to her, he was just her baby boy. Something great out of something morbid. Something bright out of the darkness. And now he was leading them all through a similar time.

"Varys says they think it were Joffrey who started it…" Will informed her.

"Your brother did not," Cersei defended.

"I know he did not…but his reaction hasn't painted him in the best light for my people,"

"I understand, does my younger brother recommend anything?"

"I have not spoken with him on the issue,"

"Let me offer you some counsel, my son," she started, "the people want a face. They want to know who they're following, who's leading them. Not just the promise of the Crown but the…reality of it, if you will,"

"I'm not sure I understand," he furrowed his brow at her idea.

"Speak to them, Will,"

"Speak to them?" her son looked her in the eye, confusion filling his deep brown eyes.

"Address them,"

"Care to clarify?"

"Tell them the truth of what happened…that you are leading them all the way. You need them as much as they need you,"

"I know," he breathed another heavy sigh.

"You'll need the support of them if you plan on winning this battle,"

"They can't fight," Will spoke in confusion.

"No, they can't. But you'll be surprised how dramatically commoners can tip the scales of battle," she advised as they arrived at her chamber door.

Her son kissed her cheek and let her go, returning to his own royal chambers to mull over the various appointments that required him. Seventeen years ago; his only appointment was to be. She closed her eyes and felt them staring into his newborn brown ones once again. And oh, how you've grown, she thought, smiling to herself in a bittersweet manner.

The remainder of the day was shaping up to be as dull as the next until the raven's scroll arrived at her chamber door late that afternoon. She opened it in a hurry, sending handmaidens out and keeping the parchment close. She'd seen the seal and knew that it carried words more important than the lives of most whom had occupied her room.

Daughter,

You'll be pleased to know that your brother has been found safe and alive. Ser Jaime is currently riding to the Capital in great haste, however, his captivity has left him weaker than usual. The tides have turned in our favour and battle is won at the Rock. You and your son should expect me in King's Landing soon; should things go to plan.

Rest easy, child, the plan is underway.

Tywin Lannister

Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West