Wolf in Lion's Clothing
More of an angst-filled chapter. I've been pretty busy with schoolwork these months but I finally got my head out of that creative rut I'm in and wrote a short-ish chapter. I hope you enjoy.
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Chapter 8: Portrait of a Life
Jon
The first thing he noticed was that he was lying down on sand.
A strange thing, sand. So akin to snow and yet so different, he had only seen it a few times. There was sand on Dragonstone and on the Isle of Faces, but he had little time to inspect the strange stuff at the times he had been on the islands. The shores of the North were clifflike, with few places to make landings, like the White Knife near White Harbor, the western shores under House Glover's protection, and some parts of the Flint's Finger. He had no doubt that some of his cousins had gone to see them, Robb and Sansa had been taken on visits to many a Northern House while their bastard brother had to stay at Winterfell.
He sat up and rubbed his fingers through some of it, watching as it fell through and down onto the rest of the uncountable grains.
The second thing he noticed was that he was a man again. Strangely enough, he had gotten quite used to not having a cock, that he hadn't been immediately relieved at having his own back. He was wearing some light clothes, barely enough to be counted as smallclothes.
He grunted a little as he stood and took a good look around. To the South he saw a giant mountain fortress, for it could only be called a fortress with its multiple battlements and towers, jutting out of a large mountainous rock. He had never seen it before, but he was quite sure that this was Casterly Rock. It fit the description, although he expected more lion statues.
He looked outwards, towards the setting sun. The sun seemed to kiss the oceans, turning the water into a warm orange instead of the usual deep blue.
"Pretty sight isn't it." He turned immediately towards the voice.
A blonde woman lay in the sand, silk towels stretched out like a mattress to provide her comfort. Her body was like a blonde goddess's, her curves were like the sand dunes of Dorne, her hair flowed like a river of gold, and her azure green eyes seemed to pierce his own with an intense focus.
"Although you're more into redheads if I recall correctly."
His eyes widened when he finally recognized who she was.
"Cersei?"
She was young. The woman he met in that future in Winterfell was an older woman, a mother of three, whose beauty, while still worthy of its fame, was not as radiant as the beauty of the younger woman before him.
The woman whose body he had been thrust into was a beauty worthy of legend. And here she was in front of him.
"Where are we?" He asked as he walked towards her.
"Our mind, I believe. I think you couldn't handle the news." She said with a scoff. "Motherhood is something shocking after all."
Oh. Jon remembered now.
"This is the first time we've, well, spoken." He said with a blush as he realized just how few clothes she was wearing.
"Hmm. Perhaps stealing my body has something to do with that."
He frowned. "It wasn't my idea. It was just-"
"It was just thrust upon you, yes. I've seen your memories. When you first arrived, it was all I could experience. Quite a life you've lived, isn't it Jon Snow?"
He stilled. He hadn't seen any of her memories. He was honestly just improvising whenever he interacted with someone from Cersei's past, or when the presence he felt in his mind decided to nudge him in a proper direction.
"Why are we here?" He got down to business.
"I wouldn't know. It's your body now after all. Your mind. Your child." She said with an airy tone.
"The beach on the sunset sea close to Casterly Rock isn't a memory of mine, but yours." He countered.
Her glare was piercing.
"And what do you mean my child?" He asked hesitantly. "It's yours, it is your body after all."
"Your child. How can a dead woman have a child?" She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You're not dead."
Those were the wrong words to say. Cersei rose with anger evident in her eyes and she looked at him as if he was stupid.
"And what would you call me then? My body is no longer mine, my mind is open to a stranger, my life torn into pieces and made into a plaything for you to manipulate. Cersei Lannister is dead." She said without emotion, as if she had gone through all this in her head and was now just parroting what conclusion she had reached. "It is you who makes love to the King, you who rejected my brother, you who now makes decisions as to who rules the realm. I am dead."
He raised his eyebrow. He didn't truly think about it in that manner. Had he killed her when he had arrived in the past?
"I… I would argue against that. I felt your presence in my- our mind. Just yesterday you guided me when I was having trouble with a Riverlord. You are not dead Cersei."
It felt strange to be arguing with a woman who had caused so much suffering in his family in that future he had witnessed. That future that must never be.
"Yes, my mind is your tool now, my instincts just something to be used when you feel the need. How nice."
He didn't know much about Cersei, but he did know she was a prideful person. "Why are you giving up? The Cersei I met may have been vicious and ruthless but she never gave up."
"How dare you?" She asked with rage. The winds blew and the sand flew, and suddenly they were no longer on that beach in the Westerlands.
They were in a wooden hut, dilapidated and dull, its wood rotten and the smell foul.
"Will the king and I have children?" A young child, blonde and green eyed asked.
"Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and three for you. Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds, she said. And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you." She was answered by and old woman, withered and pale.
Their surroundings broke like glass, shards falling into nothingness as they were surrounded by nothing but white.
"It all came true. That future you came from, those horrible memories you brought with you." There were tears in her eyes now. "Robert went whoring, I cheated on him with Jaime, and my children died. They all died. I buried all of them. The valonquar, my little brother. I always thought it would be that little monster that killed my mother but instead it was Jaime. My twin, my other half. I might as well be dead Jon Snow, I might as well be crows food."
The tears flowed like a stream, and before he knew what he was doing he was walking forwards to embrace her. He saw clearly now. She was not the old bitter woman he knew. She was just a girl. Not even 20 namedays old. She was a girl who tried so hard not to think about that night, not to give in to the despair of that prophecy.
One of his hands grasped the back of her head, the silky hair flowed like water around his fingers. Her tears were wet upon his chest, but he paid that no mind.
"It's ok. It's ok." He tried to soothe her.
"No it's not! It's not!" She cried out as she let out sobs.
"It won't happen. Not now, not while I'm here." He whispered. She looked so vulnerable, so unalike the Cersei he had known in that future, the Cersei he saw in the mirror as he woke.
"I'm here to change things, remember?" He started.
"You're here to save the world from monsters, not to help me." She responded with a desperate voice.
"And why can't I do both? Why can't I help you?" He asked genuinely. "Things are changing, remember? Robert isn't whoring too often. You are pregnant with his child, not Jaime's. That prophecy is null and void, those words are nothing but wind."
Her tears abated a little and she stepped back to look at him in the eyes.
"But it's not me who shall live that life, it shall be you."
"No. We can live it together. That child in your belly, it'll be yours. Your child. Your babe."
She was silent for a long time, just staring at him, trying to see if there was a drop of dishonesty in his eyes.
He hoped she wouldn't find any.
"Why me?" She whispered. "Why was I chosen to be your… your vessel."
He shrugged and gave her a sad smile. "The Gods only know."
The scene shifted to one that he knew intimately, his heart clenched as he recognized the smell of her.
"Ygritte." He said unconsciously. They were in the cave.
"This was one of my favorite of your memories." Cersei spoke as she took a step next to him, watching as his younger self and the first woman to steal his heart spoke softly to each other.
"I feel as though I should never have left this cave." What use was there to hide his feelings from one who could feel what he felt, remember what he remembered? They shared a body and a mind now.
"I feel like I should never have left Casterly Rock, never left those days with Jaime and my mother, never left those sandy beaches, the buildings of Lannisport, the comfort of home." She whispered.
The scene faded away as his younger self kissed the redheaded wildling.
"But we left them. Those places, those times, they are gone to us. For better or worse, the only way now is forward." He spoke with conviction. More conviction than he felt if he was being honest.
She looked at him hesitantly before she gently took his hand in hers. "You could do away with me in an instant. You're older, wiser, a warrior. I'm just an annoyance to you."
The words were harsh, but if he was being honest, they weren't entirely untruthful either.
Had the woman beside him been the Cersei he knew, been the woman who caused suffering because she felt like it made her more powerful, more like her father, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
But she wasn't.
She was a young woman who stood staring at the man who she couldn't be invulnerable to. Strangers may see her tough, beautiful exterior, but only Jon Snow could peer behind that veil into the inner workings of Cersei Lannister.
And he saw was a scared little girl. Oh, she could be vicious and ruthless at a moment's notice, but right now she was unsure and wary of everything, her world was gone, its foundations shaken. And, for a moment, he could swear he saw auburn hair and crystal blue eyes, the eyes of a young woman torn down and brought to desperation by the devastation wrought by others, a young woman who had no choice but to be ruthless and vicious when needed, a young woman who, at her core, had been as scared and unsure as the blonde in front of him.
He grasped her hand tighter and gave a genuine smile.
"I'm no monster. And I need you." He said truthfully. "You are Cersei Lannister, a proud Lion and there's nothing that you should change. I'm… I'm a killer, I've tried my best but I'm a killer who tries to keep his oaths." He gave her a shrug. "If you can help me to save the realm, save my family, and yours, then we'll live a life worth living."
Her crisp green eyes seemed to fill with hope and, as if she couldn't trust her voice, she nodded.
He brought her closer and tucked a stray hair behind one of her ears. There was a connection here. He wasn't quite sure if it was a real one, or one manufactured by circumstances, but it was there.
"The Gods brought us together and we have to live a life together. Raise a child, an heir to the throne. Deal with troublesome lords, gossiping ladies, and with monsters from our worst nightmares." She let out a laugh at the way he said it, which made him smile. He liked the way she laughed.
"Deal with Robert, Jon Arryn, and anyone else." She continued his words. "Perhaps I should be glad Lady Catelyn never went to the capitol, it would ruin our reputation." She said with a knowing tone that just made him raise an eyebrow in confusion.
At his unspoken question she giggled before answering. "Ygritte, Sansa. Both redheads. So is that Mallister girl. I wonder why you're so obsessed?"
He could tell that his face was flushed. "I do not think of Lady Catelyn that way!"
She laughed. Her laugh was so melodious and devoid of all that anxiety and anger from earlier. She seemed like any other girl.
"If you say so." She finished, before taking a serious pause. "Can we do it?"
He paused before giving her a nod. "I think so. It's worth it. After all, I still haven't seen that sunset in person."
She smiled before responding. "And I want to see Winterfell myself. I want to feel snow, not just in your memories but in person." It sounded like something a carefree young woman would say.
Their eyes didn't break contact as he leaned in, and she tiptoed.
When their lips met, their eyes closed to the world.
And when he opened them again, he was once more a woman.
"Cersei! You're awake." Robert came bounding over at a run from his place by the windowsill. Stannis and Renly stood just a few meters from him.
She was.
And, surprisingly, there was little inner turmoil that she once had. Jon tried to find where he ended and Cersei began and found no seams.
'Well you might as well greet our husband Jon' a voice seemed to say.
She felt… more whole. After Jon had arrived there was always some sort of conflict, some sort of inner rumblings that brough her difficulty. Now?
She still felt like two people in one body, but it was like… Instead of being in competition, they were working together, like every movement was a decision made with the consent of both parties.
"I…" She brought her eyes to the concern-filled face of the King of the Seven Kingdoms.
"I'm with child." She said emotionally, and the dam broke as the feeling of acceptance filled her.
She was pregnant. She was whole.
She was content.
Notes:
Sorry again for the delay. Just normal creative rut + Pandemic blues I guess
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