This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":
- Invite : ''Fear''.
- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.

This chapter is a bonus of my work For Cersei.

All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.

Enjoy reading!

Cersei had the horrible feeling that the walls of the castle tightened around her, that they were getting dangerously close to her, as if to suffocate her, to prevent her from getting out of there, to prevent her from surviving.

She was alone, completely alone, more alone than she had been during all those months spent in the Red Keep wondering if Jaime had died, at the hand of Bronn or at the hand of the White Walkers, at her hand or at the hand of the White Walkers, more alone than she had ever been.

Qyburn had died trying to save her and her baby.

The Mountain had found his brother, and had refused to obey her ever since.

And Jaime was gone.

He was gone because of her. She had driven him away, away from her, when she needed him, as she had always needed him.

She should have sent her armies north, just so Jaime wouldn't leave her hating her, hating her.

A memory came back to haunt her from the moment she left, from the moment she felt as if her flesh had been torn from her, as if her heart had been broken, as if her blood had been drained, as if life had already deserted her.

You're a hateful woman. Why have the gods made me love a hateful woman ?

He hated her. He hated her, so he left.

There was no one left to make her feel loved, no one left to make her feel wanted, no one left to make her feel protected.

Anyway, there had never been anyone to do that.

No one had ever valued her enough to give her that.

Except Jaime.

But Jaime wasn't there, Jaime wasn't there anymore.

Part of the roof of the hallway she had taken refuge in collapsed, missing her by very little.

Cersei huddled up against the wall, hoping to be at least a little safe, safe from the death that rained down on her, as it had rained down on the Reynes of Castamere.

Except that it would not be drowned by the water that she would end up in. It would be drowned by flames, drowned by stones.

Drowned by loneliness, drowned by fear.

She felt a rush of adrenaline rising inside her.

She looked death in the face as she had never looked at it before.

More than when Stannis Baratheon had laid siege to the city and thought she had to poison her son before killing herself, for fear that something much worse would happen to them.

More than when she thought she would die of thirst when she was taken prisoner of the Militant Faith.

More than when Tommen had declared that trials by combat would be prohibited.

More than when Daenerys Targaryen arrived in Westeros, bringing dragons and dreams with her.

More than when Daenerys Targaryen had arrived in King's Landing, bringing fire and blood with her.

And that terrified her.

When she was little, there had always been Jaime to reassure her, when there was a storm and the waves broke violently on the cliffs of Casterly Rock, when the lightning fell and the lightning illuminated the sky with its deadly glow.

It is only the lions that roar, he told her, and one day we will roar much louder than they do.

But now, Cersei would have roared with all her might, there was no one to hear her.

In any case, she no longer had the strength to roar, not like before, she was too consumed by the terror of the flames and the death coming out of the dragon's mouth.

It was all very well to say that when winter comes, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives, everything was the same with the lions.

Except that there were only lone lions now. There was no more pack.

So they were all going to die.

A section of the wall against which she was leaning fell a little further.

She had to get out of here.

She absolutely had to take shelter, if not for herself, for her baby.

Her little lion cub.

Even if it meant she would never see Jaime again.

It was tearing her apart, more than any words could ever describe, but doesn't a lioness do everything she can to protect her babies?

She had arrived in the courtyard where she had had the map of Westeros painted so that she never lost sight of her goal.

She clung to the marble railing covered with tiny shards of glass and stone, which bruised her hands when she put them on, clinging to the railing as she desperately tried to hold on to life.

The ground cracked, and stones and rubble fell from towers invisible from where she was, as if they fell from the sky on her, as if the Seven she had repeatedly offended were punishing her in turn.

Cersei continued along the wall, putting her wounded hands on it, and descended to the center of the patio.

It was a bad idea, coming here, a very bad idea.

From there, she was totally exposed, totally naked, just as she had been during the Walk of Shame.

If the Targaryen were to pass right over her, she would see her, and she could kill her right away.

The killing of the Golden Lioness.

Everything kept falling down around her, as she felt the terror rising inside her and death approaching.

She seemed to hear footsteps, and she closed her eyes.

Was it Tyrion, who had come to fulfill the prophecy given to her when she was young?

Was it Daenerys, who had come to kill her greatest rival, the only remaining obstacle to her ascension to the throne?

Was it one of the only people left among the countless who had hated her before Daenerys and the fire?

But she turned around, and she saw him.

It was Jaime.

Her Jaime who had returned.

Thank you for reading!
Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^
Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.