NOTE: Hi guys!
I know, I'm late... I'm sorry!
Normally I try to always have at least one chapter almost written when in advance when I publish, but as I decided to change the way to tell this part of the story I had to rewrite a bunch of things. And now I'm late in my writing and I'm very frustrated about all of this and I think way too much about things I think I need to stop.
Anyway, as promised, I wrote an entire chapter out of Kyria's head! And let me tell you it was TROUBLESOME!
It was sooo hard! Especially the second POV! I think I wrote that thing at least three times before I was happy with it. And to deal with that on top of college and everything else was a journey let me tell you!
But I did it. And since I'm insane just like that I thought I could go one for more than one chapter, ya know to show you how Kyria affected the world and the people around her. I'm not sure if I will do that until the end of this book but I kind of like the idea. After all, even though for now Kyria is the main character, there is other stories and characters that I want to develop. I have a lot of plans for those guys!
So, for now, there will be at least two different points of view in most chapters, and I'll try to explore one different character each time. I may not be able to do that for everything because I still need to show some scenes and I have to do it with the characters I have on the scenes so a couple of them are susceptible to appear more than once, but I'll try my best!
So, for this chapter, I won't say a lot more than what I already said, because, ya know, spoils and what not. I will say however that it start right after the end fo the last one. And let me warn you, shit started to get real. Like, GOTlike real. If ya know what I mean.
But before I leave you to your reading, let me answer those wonderful comments of yours!
Shade: Thank you so much for your review! I must confess when I read it at first I laughed. I won't explain why but there is something in there that made me want to pat you on the shoulder. Just one thing: be careful what you wish for! I'm happy to know that you don't find Kyrai annoying, I'm really scared about that ( as everyone must have noticed now xD) I'm curious to know what were your theories now, will you share them? I hope you'll enjoy this one!
Guest: Well thank you!
M: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it! And, well if you feel nervous... I want to say, good luck? Not sure how you'll feel after this one... I hope you'll enjoy ^^
Alright, that's it, folks! Now the main event! The chapter ladies and gentlemen! Hope you'll like it!
Chapter 16: Crushed Dreams.
Year 298 after the Conquest, Ninth Month.
Kingslanding
Sansa
Sansa was scared.
Kyria had said she didn't pay attention. She had said she didn't like to look outside her beliefs and everything else. She knew her sisters thought she was empty-headed and stupid when it came to this place and the people.
But it was not true. She was paying attention! Maybe she was not as clever, or as suspicious about everything as Kyria was, but she still paid attention. She knew that people didn't trust Father anymore, that they suspected him of many awful things.
Of course, it was impossible. She wasn't even questioning that. There were no doubts, no hesitations. Father wouldn't do anything against his honor. He would never! He was loyal and honorable! Father wouldn't betray his word.
It was a fact. Like the color of the sky.
She knew something had changed since Father's attack. She would have been especially stupid if she hadn't noticed. People were looking at her differently. She heard them whispering behind her back, whenever she went outside of the Tower. She noticed the guards posted everywhere, every time she visited Myrcella. They weren't that many before.
She noticed all of this.
But now was the very first time those changes were scaring her. There was something wrong. She couldn't deny it, as much as she wished she could. Surrounded by guards, and escorted to Father, she couldn't deny something was very, very wrong.
She thought of Father. Was it him who asked them to come so harshly? She founded that hard to believe. But surely a knight like Ser Meryn wouldn't lie?
She knew Ser Meryn. He was one of the knights who often protected her beloved Joffrey. She knew him well in fact, he was one of the two Kingsguards she knew the names of. Him and Ser Jaime of course. But she didn't like Ser Jaime that much now. He did hurt her father after all. To think such a man, a knight would do something like that…
She hadn't believed it at first. It sounded improbable, unthinkable that a knight as Ser Jaime would do such a thing! Of course, she knew of his reputation. But killing the man who had murdered her grandfather and her uncle didn't sound horrible to her, no matter what Father could say. Sure he betrayed his vow. But it was the Mad King and everyone had said how horrible he was. To have him dead couldn't be a bad thing in the end, could it be?
But attacking her father that was something else. Father was not a mad man.
Ser Meryn was one of the few knights she knew the best. The Hound was the second. She didn't like him much. He was scary. With his tall figure and the burned skin on his face. She still remembered Lord Baelish's story about it. The way he described it. The way she pictured it in her mind. That had been awful. But the worst was that she couldn't even pity the man. He was too horrible. To gross, vulgar, harsh… violent almost. He scared her.
She'd rather have Ser Meryn protecting them anytime. Besides, he was a true knight. The Hound was not. Only a dog had said Joffrey. How degrading, for a knight to be called such a thing. If he was truly a knight he wouldn't be called a dog. He'd have some dignity!
A part of her was happy to see Ser Meryn with them. With him, they couldn't be hurt. He wouldn't hurt them for sure. He was always eager to protect and obey her Joffrey. But the red cloaks around made her uncomfortable. She kept looking at their armors and the shiny pommels of their swords. They looked fierce. All of them.
Yes, she was scared.
"Kyria..." she whispered.
Her sister didn't answer, but Sansa felt her hand pressed against her own, soft finger slowly curling around hers. She heard her. She knew Sansa was scared.
Sansa couldn't see Arya. The little girl was on the other side of her big sister. But from the way, Kyria was carrying herself, and the heaviness on her steps, she must hold her too, from her side. Somehow, it reassured her. She wasn't the only one who needed to relay on Kyria. She wasn't the only one scared.
She knew she was supposed to be angry at Kyria. After everything, she said the night before. Every horrible thing. She should hate her forever and refuse to ever talk to her again. But this was not about their fight. Not now. This was about those red cloaks around them, circling them like predators, like a cage made to keep them locked. Like they were scared to see them flee.
Why would they do that? Father wanted to see them! It was stupid to try to escape! Especially when it was important enough to bring the Kingsguard and the red cloaks.
A part of her thought something was wrong. It was not like Father to ask those people to escort them to him. But she dismissed those thoughts. She shouldn't think like that, she started to sound like Kyria. She didn't want to sound like Kyria, Kyria was wrong.
It was strange for sure, she couldn't say it was not. But it didn't necessarily mean it was bad. Maybe it was just for protection. She was the Prince betrothed after all. They should want to protect her. It was their role.
Maybe they went a little too far with that? Maybe that was why things felt so strange. Yes, she had to believe that. She couldn't panic like a child and let her brain jump into every possible scenario. It was just a question of habit. Nothing else. She wasn't used to having red cloaks around here that were all. Those men would soon be her men. Having them around will soon be perfectly normal.
Yes. Yes, that was it.
It had to be.
She tried to convince herself, for several moments, but in the end, she couldn't. The fear in her belly was still there and something inside her kept screaming that something was wrong. There was just something… in the air around them. She couldn't place it, but she didn't like the feeling.
She felt likes some kind of prey. Like someone was about to jump out of nowhere and attack her.
Nervously, the girl looked back at her sister's profile. But nothing on her face seemed to indicate what she was thinking or feeling. Sansa pressed Kyria's hand in her own a bit more.
Kyria would know what happened. What was happening? She would. Kyria was smart and observant. Very much more than Sansa.
She couldn't deny this. Kyria had noticed, way before her, that something was wrong. She was the one who pulls them close to her when the guards first arrived. She was the one who saw them by the window. And even before. Kyria had always been wary of this place. Before today she found it stupid, but now… Now it made sense. In a very disturbing way.
But Sansa refused to believe in everything that went out of her sister's mouth. Kyria was suspicious and way too paranoid. If only she could stop worrying all the time. Sansa didn't remember her being like that back home.
Maybe she was right when she said this place changed people.
No. No, it was not possible. The idea alone was ridiculous. It was the capital. The most wonderful place in the world. Nothing could be wrong in such a place.
… But, she couldn't deny that Father had been attacked in the capital. It never happened back home.
But it was Jaime Lannister's fault. No one else. Besides, who knows, maybe it was just a big misunderstanding between her Father and Ser Jaime!
She knew Father didn't like the man. Maybe they had a fight that went too far? Maybe Ser Jaime hadn't want Father to be hurt in their confrontation? Maybe everything had been a very big very messy accident?
All of this was so confusing. She didn't know what to think anymore. But she knew some things. She knew Kyria was clever. And generally, when she said something, she was right. Most of the time. Sometimes, when she thought very hard about it, Sansa wished she could be as clever as her big sister. Today was one of those times.
She keeps looking at her, as they slowly made their way into the keep a strong belief beating in her heart. Kyria would know.
A sudden cry on her right stopped Sansa. It was so sudden, so unexpected, she didn't even think. Her body was already looking as her mind just started to analyze the sound. Kyria's grip on her hand pressed further, hurting her almost. But her mind didn't register the pain.
Later, when she'll think about that day, Sansa would say it was that moment when her dreams and hopes for her future died. For now, she could only try to understand what was happening in front of her.
There were two gold cloaks. One of them was wiping his sword against his cloak, the other was pulling his out of-
"NO!"
"Sansa don't look!"
The world stopped around her.
She didn't understand at first. She couldn't. This couldn't be happening. Not here. Not now. Not ever. This was not possible. Not-
Her eyes fell from the soldier to the pool of red liquid slowly running at his feet. First, she thought of wine. But wine was not so dark. The color was wrong. The thickness was wrong. It couldn't be wine. But what else could it be? It looked like...Blood?
No. It couldn't be. She knew what blood looked like of course. She grew up with three brothers. And Theon and Robb did like to spare a lot in the courtyard of her home. But this couldn't be blood.
Why would there be blood on the floor of the Red Keep?
Someone screamed. Behind her, she felt the air moving with Kyria. A hand went for Sansa's head, pushing her somewhere, but her eyes were running along the small river of this red thing on the floor, trying to find where it started. There has to be an explanation. There has to be.
"Sansa No, don't!" pressed Kyria.
Finally, her eyes found it. She blinked and it was there. So obvious she could have seen it before. It was hard to miss really. So obvious. Why hadn't she seen this before?
She blinked, and it hit her. What it was. Like a slap on the face. She screamed. Her voice resonated into the walls. Someone grabbed her. She tried to fight it. She couldn't. Someone stopped her, grabbed her, pulled her back. She couldn't reach the- She couldn't- But she had too! She needed to- This was- This was-
"SEPTA!"
Her kind eyes were empty, huge and unblinking. Her face twisted in something ugly, disturbing and desperately lifeless. Her jaw stayed open, hanging low, almost against the floor. Her veil was dirty. The fabric slowly drinking the red liquid in which it was soaked. There was red everywhere. On the floor, on the veil, on her face. On her- on her grey dress and – and-
There was no neck. Just the floor. The floor and red. Red everywhere-
The floor.
"SEPTA!" she screamed again.
She tried to move, to help her, to- Anything! But there were arms around her and people shouting and so many noises and someone kept calling Septa. A part of her brain knew it was her voice but she was there and there was no-
"SEPTA MORDANE!"
"Sansa don't!" said someone again.
And it was Kyria, Kyria who was holding her but she shouldn't! She shouldn't she was- Couldn't she see?! There was something wrong! There was something wrong with Septa and she needed help and- They couldn't leave her like that! They had- They had to- They-
"SEPTA!"
"Sansa hush," said Kyria again.
She couldn't move, something was holding her and they kept talking around and- Why were they talking!? Septa was there! She was hurt! She was- Her head was-
Why were they shooting? They should do something! Help Septa! She needed help! Sansa needed to go help her assist her! They couldn't leave her like that! She was- Her head was- They couldn't leave her like that!
"Let go of me! Let go! Septa!"
"Sansa- Sansa!" called Kyria.
She dragged her farther away from septa, and before Sansa could understand what was happening, everything was dark around her. Her sobs echoed against something warm and soft. A large lock of curly hair entered her mouth as her sister pressed her head against her neck. Sansa tried to escape again but it was pointless. She couldn't move. She couldn't move and Septa- Septa-
"No! SEPTA!" said another voice. "LET GO OF ME!"
"Easy child."
"LET GO OF ME! SEPTA!"
Syrio. Arya. Sansa tried to move again, but Kyria was strong.
"Keep going." ordered one of the red cloaks around them. "We have places to go to."
"No! SEPTA!" called Arya somewhere behind Kyria.
The armors were moving. Clinging metal. People talking, swords. And Septa-
"Hush child." stopped Syrio again.
"NO! No, let go of me! Septa! He killed Septa! Let go of me!"
"Kyria!" moaned Sansa. "Kyria, Septa-"
"Now Arya-"
"LET GO OF ME! SEPTA!"
"Alright enough," called Kyria. "Syrio will you-"
Syrio didn't answer, but Arya's protests were suddenly way closer.
Kyria moved. She grabbed Sansa's face and held it so the girl couldn't escape her sister's gaze. Still, she tried.
"Look at me," ordered Kyria.
Sansa wimped and looked. Kyria's eyes were red. But dry. There was something cold inside. Making her eyes hard like steel. Sansa sobbed and tried, again, to go to her Septa. But she was- She was-
"You listen to me, both of you." she said "We don't have time for this. I know it's septa and I know she- she's-" Kyria's face changed. But then she was somber again. "We can't do anything for her. We have to find Father, do you understand? We have to follow them or they'll make us walk. We do everything they said and we shut our mouths."
"Why? We should- We- Septa's- the gold cloaks they-"
She couldn't say it. She couldn't think about it. This couldn't be happening. Septa was a holly woman! A servant of the Seven! Things like that didn't happen to people like Septa. This wasn't possible!
" You shut up, you follow them and you keep your tears for yourself. We'll cry once it's all done. We have to move now."
"I don't want to. I- I don't want to go with them! Kyria, don't make me!"
"We have to."
"I'm scared!" she whined in her sister's neck.
Kyria would know. Kyria would understand.
"I know darling. I know," she said softly.
Her hands were soft against her neck. Sansa sobbed again. Septa. Septa! Her head was still-
Was it?
She couldn't look. She couldn't! No one could make her look at that- At- At-
"I won't follow them! I'll kill them! They kill Septa! I'll kill them all of this! I won't go anywhere with those monsters!" cried Arya, her voice angered and high pitched.
"Hush now Arya. You shut your mouth and you follow us! You promised to remember?" said Kyria.
Sansa felt her move again but she didn't look. She couldn't look at anything. Her eyes were closed, safely hidden in her sister's neck. She didn't want to look. They couldn't make her look around. They couldn't.
There were voices still. Cries around them. Far from them. They resonated in the corridors. She didn't want to know why there were so many people screaming. She didn't want to see. She'll stay here, Kyria will protect her. Kyria knew how to do that. She won't make her watch Septa- Septa-
"But Kyria-"
"Enough of this!" groaned the harsh voice of Ser Meryn.
Someone tugged Sansa away. With a painful cry, Sansa fell back from her sister's arms and right against the cold plate of the man's armor. Another one, large and red moved to Arya.
"NO!"
The sound of the slap resonated louder than any noise Sansa could have made.
"Now you shut your mouth little bitch and you move," ordered Ser Meryn.
Kyria grabbed Arya close to her her eyes burning dangerously. She looked like Frost. The same dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Don't touch my sister." she groaned.
The guard's hand rises again, ready to strike Kyria's beautiful face.
"No!" called Sansa, running to her sister. "Don't hurt us! We're coming, we're coming with you, please don't hurt us! I beg you!"
The man grunted, and Ser Meryn made her move. She tried not to protest, her eyes on Arya's reddening cheek. Her little sister's eyes were beaming with rage. But Syrio's firm hand prevented her from talking again.
After a couple of trembling steps, Kyria ripped her from the knight's tight grip. Her hand was soft against her head, and Sansa did not resist when she pushed her back against her shoulder.
She couldn't see much but she didn't want to put her head back up. She didn't want to see anything else. Her hands were trembling. She couldn't make them stop.
People talked again around her. She didn't listen. Her mind went back to Arya and Ser Meryn's hand slapping her. She couldn't suppress a shiver.
How could Ser Meryn do something like that! How dare he! He was a knight! She trusted him! How could he slap her sister like that! She was a child!
She felt a sob climbing her throat.
"Arya!" she called, suddenly unable to carry on without Arya close.
Septa's image was still dancing behind her eyes and she couldn't bear to think something like that might happen to her poor little sister.
Arya blinked and looked at her, all her little face crunched around the ugly red bump on her cheek. It was growing angrier with every step. She looked in pain and shocked by what happened. Or maybe it was Sansa who felt that way?
In any case, she held an arm to her. The little girl only hesitated a moment, before throwing her self into her sister's arms. Her little hands gripped her bodice and the silver belt on her stomach, but Sansa couldn't have cared less. She felt her trembling against her. She was scared too. Or angry maybe? She could never say with Arya.
They didn't talk. But Sansa pressed her close to her. She was the big sister. It was her job to support Arya. Just like uncle Benjen said. Before, she never had the chance to be a sister to Arya. Now she could. More than ever before. The idea of being in charge of this wild little girl warmed something inside Sansa, a deep place safely buried under the fear and confusion. Part of her liked the feeling.
"It's going to be alright Arya," she said softly.
She didn't believe it. But she knew Mother said that sometimes to appease them when they were scared. She had seen Kyria doing it too, with Rickon and Bran a couple of times.
Arya didn't answer, but she felt her round little cheek against her side.
The guard took them to the Throne room. There was no one there.
Or so she thought at first. But then her foot bumped into something and she looked at it. A face looked back, twisted and purple and-
Sansa's scream was swallowed by another of Kyria's large locks of hair, as her sister put her head right back against her neck. The face! She knew- she knew that face! It was- It was-
"What happened here?!" asked Kyria forcefully.
"Keep moving," grunted Ser Meryn.
"They're all dead!" cried Arya against Sansa's bodice.
Her grip was strong against the belt, almost to the point of breaking it. But, again, Sansa couldn't let force herself to care. This was too much. She wanted to go home. She wanted her Mother. Her Father. Where was he?! She didn't want to see this she didn't- Why?!
Sansa sobbed again. This was too much. Too much was happening. She couldn't understand. She couldn't. She didn't want to. No one could make her!
Ser Meryn brought them around the throne, to the High council room. Or so Sansa thought at first. But then they passed the room. The door was wide open and the room was empty.
"Where are we going? You said our Father-"
"Shut up." snapped the Kingsguard.
Kyria made a strange sound with her throat and put her a bit closer again. She didn't understand. Where was Father? Why-
No. No, she didn't want to know. No one would make her see this again! No one!
Sansa watched again the council room. Her heart beats fast in her chest as her hope of seeing Father coming out of this room was made thinner with each step. Then they turned at some other corridor and her heart fell in her belly. Kyria squeezed her shoulder.
"Where are they taking us?" asked Arya against her bodice.
"Hush child," said Syrio.
One of the guards grunted, and for one horrible second Sansa was convinced he would just slap one of them again for talking too much.
This was terrifying. She was scared. She was so scared. What was even happening, None of this made any sense!
They kept going for something like an eternity. Corridors after corridor, to a place Sansa never visited before. But they kept going again, and again. Until they arrived in front of a large door. Sansa couldn't say how much time after they passed Septa-
Sansa sobbed, close to her sisters.
Kyria looked around them and took another step further so that both Sansa and Arya were now behind her.
"Kyria-" started Arya from even behind Sansa.
She realized then that she just did the exact same thing than Kyria had done with her. A part of her didn't want tiny Arya in front of whoever was inside this room. Arya didn't protest. Maybe she didn't realize what they were doing. Surely she wouldn't appreciate someone like Sansa trying to protect her.
Sansa kept her mouth shut. She pressed her hand in Arya's little palm. The Kingsguard opened the door slowly, revealing a large room, full of light and open to a pretty little garden.
The Queen was there, placed in front of a busy-looking desk. Her hair was glowing with the sun behind her. Joffrey was not there. Nor was Father. Or any other member of their household. There was the Queen, an old man that Sansa took a minute to recognize as the Grand Maester Pycelle. Then a bald man, Varys she thought and-
"Lord Baelish!"
Kyria tugged her arm. Sansa shut her mouth and stepped closer to her big sister. She dared to look at Lord Baelish, hoping he might help them. Finally a friendly face! Faces even, with the Queen here. She didn't know the other people, not enough to say if they were friends or foes, but she knew the Queen and Lord Baelish would help them. They've always been so nice with them, and thoughtful. They would help them! Everything would be fine now, she was sure of it. Her hope was so high it almost dismissed her fear and the haunting images of what she witnessed a moment ago.
But Lord Baelish didn't smile. He didn't look at Sansa with this kind look he uses to have every time Sansa was around. She felt her hopes crushed inside her, like leaves under a shoe. She didn't understand. Why? He had been so kind to them, all this time. He was so cold now. Why?
I don't like him.
Kyria. Kyria hadn't liked Baelish. Or the Queen. Her words echoed inside her brain. Had she been right? Could she be right? No. No, she couldn't! This couldn't be! She chased them away, like she did every time, for she refused to live in a world like the one portrayed Kyria in her endless lectures. Where everyone would lie and betray just for the sake of it. Kyria said the capital was like that. It was absurd! How could it be!?
No. No matter how many times Kyria had been right in other situations, she was wrong here. She had to be.
She had to be!
"My Queen," said Ser Meryn. "The Stark girls and their Dancing master are here."
"Thank you Ser Meryn." answered the queen with a sweet voice.
She was always so beautiful. So soft and sweet in the way she spoke. So perfect in each of her dresses.
Sansa admired her. She truly did. She admired her softness, her beauty, her grace. She wanted to be just like her later. A good Queen, a gracious Queen beloved by her people.
I want them to love me!
When those beautiful green eyes spotter her, Sansa tried to smile. She felt the muscles of her face hurt with the effort as if to twist her lips into something they were not made for. She hoped it was convincing enough. The Queen's face remains expressionless. Same as the people around her.
Kyria tugged her again. Arya felt heavier on her arm. The twist on her face disappeared, leaving the sad, scared expression that reflected her heart.
Her golden hair slipped on one of her shoulders, as her head moved, traveling from one face to the other. They stopped on Syrio, silently standing behind them all. Sansa had to restrain herself not to look too. She suddenly desperately needed to see his kind face. To see someone on their side. Someone who wasn't them.
"And why are you here, Dancing master? I don't remember summoning you," she said softly.
Everyone looked at him, to Sansa's relief. Syrio didn't answer. Not at first. He took one moment to look at Kyria. Sansa looked too. But her sister's face was hard to read. She looked closed up and hard. Like Father sometimes when something displeased him. Or like Robb.
"I am but a humble dancing master, your grace," he said finally, with this charming smile of his. His accent sounded funny in her ears. "I only wished to know if it would be possible to finish my lessons."
"Your service will no longer be necessary, Dancing master," said Lord Baelish, his voice soft and whispering like always.
She couldn't say why but this time his tone sends a cold chill down her spine.
"What?! You have no right!"
"Arya hush!" whispered Kyria.
Syrio held a hand, to calm Sansa's little sister. It worked, somehow.
"Can I ask why Lord..."
"Baelish, Master of Coin in the High Council." bowed Lord Baelish. "I'm afraid it does not concern you Dancing master. Let's just say that your… employer will be a bit… indisposed in the following month."
Something was troubling in the way he said that. Sansa looked at Kyria. Her hand was cold against Sansa's arm. She couldn't see the other one. But her face had a spasm on the jaw. Something she saw in Robb when he was angry, or thinking very hard.
But she didn't even try to understand more of this. All of her attention was turned on Baelish's words. What did he mean by this? Indisposed? Was he talking to Father?"
"What do you mean Lord Baelish?" asked Syrio.
He looked cool and composed. How could he? In such a situation? Sansa was still half in the mood to just broke up and cry in the middle of this very room. She was so overwhelmed by everything. She didn't understand what was happening. She couldn't. I didn't make any sense. This was too much. Way too much for her. She wanted it to stop. Just to stop.
"We will pay you a comfortable compensation for your troubles, master," said Baelish, eluding the question.
"With all your respect my Lord, I have already been paid for all my lessons. I am bound to honor my task until my little student no longer needs me." said Syrio crossing his arms. "it is not you who can say when I am finished with my task I'm afraid."
"Leave. Dancing master. This does not concern you." said Queen Cersei.
Kyria moved. Sansa missed what she did. She must have done something though because Syrio looked at her again, one last time, before bowing stiffly and leaving the room.
"No! Syrio!" called Arya.
"Arya stop."
"No! Let go of me! Syrio! Don't leave!"
"Enough child." called the Queen. Arya opened her mouth again, but the lady spoke first. "We need to have a very serious conversation with all of you. We don't have time for your little whims. Haven't you understand yet the gravity of the situation you are in?"
"And what is our situation, your grace?" asked Kyria with a loud voice.
Louder than usual. She prevented Arya from talking again. Sansa watched it all happening with round eyes. This didn't make any sense. What situation? What was this about?!
She didn't understand. She knew something was wrong though. But what? Why?
"You are the smart one aren't you, little girl? Do tell me, what do you think your situation is?" asked the queen softly.
There was something joyous in the Queen's voice like she was happy about something somehow. Happy to ask this question? She couldn't say. Who was she talking too? Sansa's eyes found Arya. But the girl was ignoring everyone, her eyes locked in the door where Syrio just left.
"Something must have happened your grace. You wouldn't have summoned us otherwise," said Kyria assuredly.
The Queen didn't look away from Sansa's sister. Was she the little girl? Why would someone call her that? Kyria wasn't a little girl.
"Indeed." said the Queen. "and do you know why ?"
"I'm afraid we don't your grace," said Kyria. "But it must concern our Father, from what Lord Baelish told Master Syrio."
She was impressive in her way. Sansa was scared. Arya seemed scared, or angry, she was not sure. Kyria didn't seem scared. Her back was straight and her head high. Sansa observed her with great attention. How could she look so composed? With everything that just happened!? Her thought stopped in one detail. Kyria's hands. She couldn't see them. Was she purposefully hiding them? Why would she do that?
The queen's face broke in a small smile. She nodded her head.
"Take a seat, lady Kyria."
Sansa panicked. What? No! She tried to stay attached to her sister, but Kyria, with one soft look at her, obeyed the queen. Sansa felt her cheek blush. She was silly, of course, her sister had to obey the queen. It was the sensible thing to do!
But, it was Kyria who was holding them together since the moment the guards cut them in their session with Syrio. It was Kyria who held Sansa when- When-
"Your Father," started lord Varys with a sweet voice. " as proved to be an awful traitor I'm afraid my dear girls."
"What?! No! Liar! You're a Liar!" accused Arya throwing herself to the man.
"Arya!" chastised Sansa, holding her sister by the shoulder.
Kyria, quick to react, stopped the girl before she could do a terrible mistake.
"Arya please," she said with a frown.
"But he's lying! Father is not a traitor! He would never betray anyone! Ever!" she protested.
"Are you saying that We, the member of the High Council and your Queen, would lie about such a thing?"
"She tried to lie once! So she could kill Lady!" blamed Arya, pointing a finger at the Queen.
"Ayra!"
"Arya that's enough!" boomed Kyria.
She pinned the girl with an ice-cold glare that would have scared even Frost. Sansa gulped and pressed Arya's shoulder. She didn't like to see Kyria angry. It was always very uncomfortable. It used to be so rare.
Arya finally closed her mouth and crossed her arms on her little chest, glaring at everyone in the room. She was fuming.
"King's Robert's body was still warm when Lord Eddard Stark began plotting to Steal Joffrey's Throne and acted on such a horrible plan in the middle of the Throne room, in front of many witnesses, including ourselves and our beloved Queen a- and new King Joffrey." shuttered the trembling voice of Maester Pycelle.
This time it was Sansa who talked. She didn't even do it consciously. It was just unbelievable! Impossible! Absurd!
"He wouldn't do that!" she protested. " He knows how much I love princ- oh, King Joffrey! Please there must have been a mistake! This is not possible!" she pleads.
Kyria pressed her hand.
"Why would our Father do such a thing?" she asked. There was still something very cold in her voice. "He loved Robert like his brother. He'd rather die than betray his memory."
"There must be a mistake." repeated Sansa. "please your grace! Maybe if- if you summoned our Father, he would tell you!" something clicked in her brain. "his leg! He had been wounded he's hurt and in pain and- Maester Pycelle you know that you gave him something for the pain! Maybe that's-"
"Sansa, sweet girl," said the Queen, holding one hand in front of her, as if to ask Sansa to stop talking. "We know your and your sisters are all innocent in this affair, do not trouble yourself. But your Father had been clear in his intentions."
She paused and Sansa didn't dare try to say anything else. Afraid of making everything worse somehow. Inside her head, she tried to think about a moment, something at some point who may have shown her father's innocence or- No this couldn't be. Father was not a traitor. He was the most honorable man of the Seven Kingdoms!
This was a misunderstanding it has to be! There was something they didn't know, something they didn't think about!
"Sansa," said the Queen again, her voice just as soft as before. Sansa shivered. Her eyes were not soft. "Sansa, dear, as innocent as we all think you are, the truth remains the same. You are the daughter of a traitor."
Something cold gripped Sansa's gut. No! No this couldn't be happening! It couldn't! None of this made sense! Father-
Arya moved close to her, but with one harsh tug from Kyria, she remained silent.
"How can I allow the daughter of a traitor to marry my son?" asked the Queen.
Sansa barely felt Kyria stiffen in front of her, her mind lost in a mist of desperate confusion.
No! No, it couldn't happen! This couldn't happen! She loved Joffrey! She was supposed to be his Queen and marry him and giving him blond-haired babies! She wanted to be a queen, just like Queen Cersei! This couldn't happen.
"Where is our Father?" asked Kyria before Sansa could even start voicing her concerns and plea to reconsider and trust her to be a good wife for Joffrey.
Queen Cersei's eyes snapped back at Kyria, the hardness in it suddenly sharper. Sansa felt her breath leave her lungs. Oh no! Kyria was angering the queen! What could she do! If the Queen was angry at her sister she won't want Sansa to be with Joffrey!
"We are announcing you your Father's treason, and you want to see him? Why Lady Kyria one would think you are suspicious in all this affair," said Lord Baelish.
"I didn't say anything of this sort," answered Kyria. "I didn't even say I wanted to see my Father. I merely want to know where he is."
"What use could you have of this information, lady Kyria?" asked Lord Varys, his eyes twinkling. "Your father is where the traitors are brought. This is everything you need to know."
Kyria blinked. She pressed her lips and something passed in her eyes.
Sansa waited a moment more to see if her sister even wanted to talk, but she remained silent.
"Please, your grace, I want to marry your son, I'll be a good wife to him!"
"The seed of treason is strong, your grace." shuttered the old Maester. " those girls, as young as they are, are traitors. Who knows what treason they could hatch in the future." his eyes fell on Arya. "the little one seems very closed to the truth. She may try to do something… harsh."
Sansa looked at Arya. Her face was red with fury. Sansa wished she was as good as Kyria at hiding her emotions. She was going to make everything worse!
"My sister is young and does not understand the… the situation we are in," said Kyria, pressing Arya to her flank.
Like she did with Sansa before, she hides Arya's face in her neck, pressing her lips in her hair for a minute.
"Arya always has been prompt to… passionate reactions. But she's a child. As is Sansa. They wouldn't do anything against the crown."
"And you, little girl? Would you?"
"I would protect my family," said Kyria, an edge in her voice. "If my family is protected by the crown I have no reason to act against it. I'm a girl of simple things my queen."
Queen Cersei shrinks her eyes, analyzing Kyria with it.
"Those girls, are innocent your grace," said Lord Baelish.
Sansa looked at him, hope flowering again inside her. Something was different in his eyes. Was he going to help them? Oh please, make him help them!
"They should be given a chance to prove their loyalty."
Queen Cersei moved her head as if to hear what Lord Baelish was saying.
"And where does their loyalty lie? With the crown and the realm, or with their treacherous Father?" asked Maester Pycelle.
Sansa opened her mouth, ready to proclaim her love for Joffrey and her loyalty for the crown. There was no other choice, nothing else to do! She wanted to be a good wife and a good queen for Joffrey and-
To your blood first Sansa. Family comes before duty and honor in your mother's house.
It stopped her. Father. Father had said that. She didn't want to betray her Father. But she didn't want to betray the crown!
What to do?!
Feeling more lost than ever, she turned to Kyria, ready to follow her lead. Kyria would know what to do. She always knew. Arya must think the same, as she didn't talk either. Sansa held a trembling breath, waiting anxiously for Kyria to solve everything.
Kyria took a deep breath, looking as composed as she had been since the beginning of all this. How did she manage such a thing? How could she be so calm in such a situation?
"I am loyal to what matters the most my Queen."
"And what is it?"
"My Family."
What?! Why would she-
"Does this mean your loyalty goes to your Father little girl? Are you sure you want to take this path?"
"It means I am loyal to my entire family your grace. My father, my mother, my siblings, all of them. What my father did, no matter what it is truly, betrayed this trust. He put us, his daughters in a difficult situation." she paused, and lowered her eyes.
It hit Sansa then, that it was the first time Kyria did something like that since they entered this room. She looked at everyone right in the eyes before.
"I- Several people came to me, your grace, to warn me that something was happening. That Father was making a mistake and- I tried to tell him to stop. I don't know what he was doing but I tried to stop him. He didn't listen. He put us in danger." she paused again, licking her lips nervously.
Sansa's eyes fell on her sister's hands. They were white and trembling against Arya.
"He didn't listen to me, and now here we are. I don't want my sister and myself to suffer from the consequences of my father's mistakes."
"You would betray your Father?" asked Lord Varys.
"My father betrayed me," she answered, coldness in her eyes.
What?
Sansa's heart stopped. What was that? This side of Kyria, this… anger. Since when was Kyria angry at Father? It didn't sound like her at all, why would she say such a thing?! It didn't make any sense! Kyria wouldn't do that!
But- But they couldn't betray the crown. She was to marry the King! They couldn't do anything against them!
Arya moved in their sister's arms, and the Queen's attention was immediately drawn on her.
"And you?" she asked.
Her voice was different again. But then, it has always been the case when she talked to Arya.
From where she was spotted, Sansa couldn't see her little sister's face, but she saw how tense she was. Almost rigid against Kyria. Arya moved and suddenly, she could see her profile. She seemed to be searching for something in Kyria's face. Her lips were only a thin line, white and angry on her face. The red of her cheek growing slowly into a dark purple that made Sansa wince.
This made her pause again for a minute. Arya looked hurt. It was obvious that someone hit her. Why hadn't the Queen already done something about it? Or Maester Pycelle! He was there for this after all! The least he could do was to treat her sister!
Finally, Arya nodded, looking again at the Queen.
Queen Cersei looked at Sansa then. Sansa didn't lose a second to proclaim her love for Joffrey and her loyalty to the crown. The words flew easily from her lips. But something was different. It was not like before. Something had changed. Her heartfelt hollow with each word coming out of her mouth.
The queen seemed to think. Then she looked back at the three of them.
"Very well. Little dove." she called, grabbing a piece of paper from her desk. "write to your mother, Lady Catelyn and your brother, what's his name again?"
"Robb". Said Kyria her voice cold.
The Queen's eyes snapped back at her.
"Or, better even, you do it, little girl. You are the eldest after all. And I have heard you were close to your brother. Write to him about your father's treason. The news of his arrest must have already reached the North. Explain the situation and… ask him to come here. To pledge his loyalty to my son and the crown."
"Why would she do that?" mumbled Arya.
Sansa shared her sister's opinion. It felt strange to write such a thing without Father's consent. It sounded like… like treason. Against Father and their blood. They couldn't do that. They needed to talk to Father first.
"Could we-" she started slowly.
"I'll do it." cut Kyria with a strong voice.
Under Sansa's astonished eyes, her sister took the paper from the queen, a Quill, and some ink, and start writing. She was doing it? But-
Arya took a step closer, trying to see what Kyria was exactly writing. Sansa was tempted to do the same. She couldn't believe it. She knew what Kyria had just said, had just promised to the Queen, but to write such a strange thing to Robb, it didn't sound like Kyria at all.
Why would she do that? Why would she write such a thing about Father and ask Robb…
To be frank, Sansa didn't get what was bothering her in all this. There was something wrong with this letter, and Father and this thing about treason and- All of it.
She was still convinced that everything was just a big misunderstanding. It had to be. Why else would Father do such a thing? It was madness, to think that her father, the most honorable man in the Seven Kingdoms would betray his friend like that!
Curiosity took the best of Sansa, and she leaned on her sister's shoulder.
Robb,
I write to you in great distress brother, for things, unfortunately, turned for the worst in Kingslanding. Father committed treason against Joffrey Baratheon and the Queen. He had been arrested. I do not know much, for ladies as ourselves are not allowed to pier in those conversations, but I am asked to invite you, my dear brother, to come here to the capital, and solve this situation personally so we can all go home, assured that justice is served and the wrong is made right again, between our family and the crown.
I pray you to come as quickly as you can. You must choose wisely the path you will take brother. Be careful not to burn the bridges that could lead you to us brother. I hope for the best.
Sincerely,
Your sister Kyria.
Sansa blinked. Once, twice. But the words were still the same. It didn't make much sense. Well, technically it did, but the words, the way of speaking… It didn't sound like Kyria at all. She knew how her sister wrote in her letters, for she already read several of them, and she never was so… pompous. Why would she talk like that?
She didn't have time to think much more about that, for already Kyria was giving back the paper to the Queen and her adviser, who took a long moment to read it carefully. It made Kyria frown. Sansa too. What were they looking for? Everything they asked was in the paper, wasn't it?
"Is there something wrong?" asked Kyria.
Lord Baelish looked up first. He was frowning contemplatively at Kyria but didn't talk. Lord Varys's eyes were twinkling strangely and Maester Pycelle looked as old as always. With this dead-cat smell that seemed to follow him everywhere. Now that she thought about it, she was kind of grateful that his awful man didn't come closer to treat Arya. He seemed disgusting. So old and smelly and… disgusting!
"Very well, little girl. We will send this to your brother."
Kyria nodded. Sansa's heart finally slows down in her chest as they were escorted out of the room. Gods…
Maybe now Kyria could explain what happened?
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Cersei
As she watched the three Stark girls exit the room surrounded by Lannister red, Cersei felt a smile crack the solemn mask she wore since they first entered the room.
Perfect. Everything was absolutely perfect. In one afternoon, she had put her beloved son on his throne, arrested the arrogant Ned Stark and grabbed his three precious little daughters in the palm of her hand.
Things couldn't have gone any better. Finally, finally, she would show them the power of the Lannister family. After years and years of suffering under the fat fool her father had married her with, it was her time. Her destiny was finally fulfilled. She had waited her entire life for this moment.
When Stark first came to her, with his so-called knowledge about her children, she had been scared. For one entire minute. But then he had opened his mouth, claiming to want to give her a chance to escape with her children. She could have laughed right at his ugly nose. As if she would ever flee anything! She was a lioness! No one could make her flee! And certainly not her old drunk husband.
The announcement of his imminent death couldn't have come in a better moment. Which, reminded her, she still had to thanks dear Lancel for his wonderful services. Blessed was the day she begged Robert to take him as a squire. He had proved to be very useful. And he was young and wonderfully new which could only be handy as far as she was concerned.
Of course, he was nothing compared to Jaime, but the fool had fled the city right after his confrontation with Stark. He had abandoned her… She still couldn't believe what he has done. After the show he put not even a day before, proclaiming his love for her and the rest, how could he do this to her!
Suddenly annoyed, Cersei dismissed the thought. She'll have all the time to rage about it later, once she's safely alone in her chambers. Or better, once Jaime came back. Now that the wolf was in a cage, he could safely come back to her and forget all this stupidity about Tyrion. If the little monster was fool enough to have himself taken prisoner, he could very well die with the Starks.
That may be the most useful thing they could do for her now.
"Poor girls… such a tragedy" said Varys behind her with this annoying voice of his. "To be burdened by such a Father..."
Poor girls indeed. What a joke.
They had exactly what they deserved. The three of them.
By the seven she couldn't stand those Stark. With their perfect family, and perfect lives. Always parading as if they were better than anyone else. They were not. Stupid tree lovers, with their pathetic little beliefs and customs and whatnot. To think they believed themselves above everyone else. Because of their blood.
They were no better. They were worse. Stupid and naive.
Oh, she couldn't complain. If they had been smarter, Stark before all others, she would have been doomed. But then again, if he had been smarter, she could have bought him.
One way or another, she would have won the game. She played it for too long not to win the thing. Better even, now that she was on top of everything, she made the game.
"The seed of treachery is strong, unfortunately." said Pycelle, answering the eunuch's previous statement. "those girls, will have to be watched closely. Who knows later what machination they could hatch in their twisted brains."
Cersei snorted.
She wasn't worried. If the oldest one seemed a bit smarter than the others, it was nothing compared to her. She was used to those games. This was her field, it had been since she was nothing but a child. Those Stark could try as much as they wanted, in the end, she had the upper hand.
Oh, she had been worried at first. But her little conversation with the girl right after her father's attack had been a relief. She was far from being as smart as everyone around her seem to think. Truly, Cersei had nothing to worry about.
That said, she still had to get rid of her. She was no match against Cersei of course, but she had a strong spine. Better be safe than sorry. The only question would be what to do with her?
"She's hiding something."
Cersei blinked and looked up. What was that?
While she was thinking all of this through, Baelish had moved to the side of her desk and had the letter in his hand. The one the Stark child had written right in front of Cersei a moment ago. What was he saying again?
"What do you mean?" shuttered Pycelle, the disgusting old thing.
"I'm not sure but… This girl is a Stark. This family is loyal to a fault. I doubt she would abandon her Father that easily. Besides she must know how it would be taken for her to send such a letter to her family."
"And how would it be taken?" asked Cersei distractedly.
She didn't have time for this man's paranoia. She had a kingdom to rule by the seven!
"Like treason."
"Absurd! She's doing her duty as a subject of the crown."
"Indeed my queen. But she must know what it could mean for Robb Stark and his mother to come south. They would betray their liege lord's will, no matter how ill-advised it is."
Cersei almost snorts dismissively. Northern fool. All of them.
"Besides, don't you think the tone of her letter to her brother is… strange?" continued the man. "it seemed a bit formal for something destined to a member of her family isn't it?"
This time, Cersei did dismiss the idea.
"The girl is a snotty brat who's convinced she's more clever than anyone else in the room. It wouldn't surprise me that she'd use many words and complicated phrasing to write her letters. She wants to show off, that's all."
"Still your grace, I wonder. Maybe she tried to send a message to her brother."
"That's what we want her to do Lord Baelish." snapped Cersei, "She did exactly what she was asked to do. Your absurd paranoia will lead us nowhere."
Maester Pycelle moved behind her, reminding her of his disgusting presence. Good gods if he was not useful…
"The girl is smart" he shuttered weakly. "She knows when to bow in front of more powerful individuals my Lord."
Cersei moved her hand with annoyance, replacing the soft shale on her shoulders. She was tired of talking about the Starks. They had been her main concern for weeks now. Enough of this.
She had other things to think of now. More important things. Like the Targaryens.
"The girl is smart but arrogant. She challenged us when she had someone to back her up, like her Father. Now she's alone and she knows who she had to bow to keep her head and her sister's safe. She'd be a fool to try anything new." she said dismissively.
"Would she?" wondered the Master of Whispers, his voice almost dreamy in its intonation.
Cersei felt the muscle under her eye twitch with annoyance. She couldn't stand the bald little excuse of a man. Why couldn't she just get rid of him once and for all? This annoying little spider. But then, maybe she could...Baelish was good at knowing things. Not as much as this little man, but enough to be useful.
That said, Baelish was as good as he was slimy. She couldn't be sure of his loyalty. And the eunuch had the decency to be predictable, with his lack of desire for power. With him at least she didn't fear for a knife in the heart.
Or the throat… she thought with a smile.
Yes, Ned Stark had proved how dangerous it was to trust a man like Littlefinger.
The bald man would have to stay for now. She'll find him a replacement soon enough anyway.
"I still think there is more than what meets the eye."
"Don't be absurd. Her father is locked up in our donjons, both her sisters are under our thumbs, just as she is. What do you want her to do? She won't risk her pathetic life for that."
"Maybe Lord Eddard told her about his intentions?" proposed Pycelle.
"No. The man is a fool. He wouldn't have included his daughters he was overprotecting them." said Baelish.
Cersei agreed. Those girls had no cards to play. No move, no power, nothing. Just their pretty faces and their cunt. It was enough for them to worth something but that was it.
"Enough about those girls. Maester Pycelle, please send a raven to Winterfell with the girl's letter. With luck Robb Stark is as clever as his sisters." she said, dismissing the note with a wave of her hand.
And if he was not, well there were still ways to get rid of annoying pieces on the board. She didn't have much to fear from a green boy.
"Now, Lord Varys," she called softly.
"My Queen?"
"What is this business about the Targaryen children? Robert couldn't shut up about it for days."
"Oh nothing of great importance my Queen, little songs whispered in my ears. We have time to deal with those."
"I would like to hear it," she said, an edge on her voice that warned the bald man not to cross her.
She already successfully get rid of one member of the High Council, and the day was not over yet. She could still do the same for another. She'd waited years for her useless husband to die, she didn't plan to let go of her position now. Or ever. The infamous Legacy her father had spent years talking about was finally beginning and as the new King's mother she was the most important woman in all those Kingdoms. It was time for those old useless men to understand that.
"Well, apparently the Targaryen children have found refuge in the house of a merchant in Pentos. Someone called Ilyrio Mopatis it thinks." answered the bald man. " The man is well known in the city as one of the richest and the most powerful. He… well, apparently the beggar Prince Viserys Targaryen plans to sell his sister princess Daenerys Targaryen to a horselord in exchange for an army."
"A horse lord? You mean a Dothraki?" asked Baelish, amused.
Cersei blinked. Were they stupid? How marrying the Targaryen girl to a horse lord could help them gain the Iron Throne? The Dothraki would never cross the Narrow sea!
But still. Even if this plan was a failure, the problem would remain. Even worse, the girl could have a son. If the Targaryen bloodline remains, they could cause massive problems in the future. There were other armies in Essos that were not scared of the sea.
No, it couldn't stay that way. They had to stop them. To prevent this stupidity from happening.
"What had been done about it?"
The three men exchange glances. They had all slowly migrated in front of her since the girls' departure, now that they didn't need to appear as a strong and intimidating front for those girls. They all exchanged little glances, sharpening Cersei's attention.
"Well… to be fair your grace," started Baelish with some hesitation.
It angered her. What was it to hesitate? It was a simple question.
"The King and his Hand disagreed with this, peculiar piece of information," said Varys with a bow, as if to whisper it in a closed up conversation. " The question had never really been solved after their first discussion."
"I see… Well, it's simple. We just have to kill them. The two of them. We should have done that years ago actually. This is bothering that they lived that long."
Again, hesitation.
"What?" asked Cersei annoyed.
"We know of the Dothraki who may be… married to the girl," said Varys. "He is known as one of the most dangerous men alive. My little birds tell me very disturbing tales concerning the man. He's a beast. He fears nothing and no one. Not even the gods of his people. "
"And? What's your point?" said Cersei, tired of this nonsense.
She hadn't called them to her to talk about savages and their supposed fears or lack of in this situation.
"He had been promised a Westerosi wife my Queen." continued Varys.
Cersei rolled her eyes.
"The girl was born in Essos Lord Varys she's as Westerosi as the sky is green. Having a Westerosi mother and brother does not make her one."
" The matter stays the same. For her brother and the man who hosts them, she's a Princess from Westeros. Killing her before Khal Drogo can reclaim his price may anger him."
"I still don't see the point Varys."
Baelish seemed to have because he ended up the sentence for his bald friend.
"An angry Dothraki who is not scared of the Sea could very well come to our door and ask for retribution..."
Cersei paled.
A Dothraki in Westeros. A Dothraki army in Westeros. That would be catastrophic. Even if they knew nothing of them and their way of fighting, they were still one of the most feared groups in the entire world. Knew to never give up and always come back, with each assault.
No, she couldn't allow that.
"Find something," she said. "Prevent the Targaryen bitch to marry the savage and find something to stop him from invading us."
Baelish's face broke in a strange smile.
"If I may your grace, I have an idea."
Cersei blinked.
Half an hour later, the three men left the room satisfied with the discussion. Cersei, now alone, cackled happily.
Perfect.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
A knock on the massive door almost made her jump. Annoyed she watched as her broken quill who now lay pathetically in the letter she had been writing. Suppressing the need to scream at the idiot who dared interrupting her work she stood abruptly.
"What is it!?"
What could they possibly want now? She hoped for their sake that it was important.
"Your grace!" called a guard, out of breath. "The youngest Stark! She escaped!"
Cersei almost regretted her already broken quill.
"What?!"
TBC.
...
So?
Anyone?
If any of you feel the sudden need to throw rotten tomatoes at me it's normal! It's a perfectly sensible emotion when you're confronted at such a cliffhanger. Yes, I am mean. No, I do not regret it. The DRAMA dear readers! Always think about the DRRRAAAMA!
Besides, now you may be angry enough to voice it *hopeful eyes* like, ya know in a comment or something like that..? *smile, nudge nudge, wink wink*
Am I annoying? Sorry...
Anyway, what do you think? Good? Bad? Awfull? Shadapandgohome?
Share it with the class come on!
You may not believe me with everything I do to her but Sansa is actually my favorite character in GOT. Like, she's my Queen, the goddess with redhear! I love her! Like LUVE love!
So yeah maybe I'm mean to her for now... I don't know, she just feels like a little brat in the beginning and she kind of needs the bratty phase to evolve in her godlike magnificence later. No, I'm not dramatic. I have no idea what you're talking about.
I may not be as subtle as I think I am in the Cersei part, now that I think about it. But I had to put it like that. Cersei is very hard to write for me. Because I don't like her. Like, not at all. I mean, I get where she comes from but still, I can't stand her. Which is paradoxical and something I experience with a few characters on the show. I can't stand them but I love the actors who play them. They awake very confused feelings inside my fragile little heart...
I'll try to update as soon as I can, but I haven't started the next chapter yet and I kind of like to take my time in editing those things as much as I can so they can be as close as perfection as possible. Or, at least my very imperfect idea of perfection.
Does that make sense?
Anyway, I'll try to be quick guys! But I'm not sure at all if I will be able to publish this month... I prefer to warn you.
Share your opinion I always like to read it. It warms my little heart, and don't forget to follow and fave the story if you like it!
See ya next time!
Bubyyya!
