Aunt Genna had to pry her away from her mother. Or was it her father? She could not remember. All she knew was the crushing weight of regret. She was desperate for her time turner, just to go back for a few hours and reverse many things that had happened. She could have taken her fears and her dream seriously and sought out an alternate remedy to heal her mother. She could have handled the issue concerning Jaime and Cersei in a better manner.
But she remembered her own words to Harry when they used the time turner to save Buckbeak and Sirius, We're breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time. . . Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!
She found herself sitting by the window overlooking the Sunset Sea, as she stared out at the setting sun. Minny had sensed her distress and had curled up next to her in an effort to comfort her. Aunt Genna appeared in her room with a bowl of soup in her hands. She set down the bowl next to her and sat beside her.
"My sweet child, you have not eaten anything for nearly an entire day. Do have some pea soup. It is warm and nourishing", her aunt said quietly. From her voice, it was clear to her that her aunt was trying not to cry. She looked down at the soup. It did look very well-made, but she was not in the mood for anything. Her hand shook when she reached out to push the bowl back.
"I am not hungry", she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Aunt Genna made a soft sound at that and placed the bowl further away from them before she pulled her into a warm hug that she gratefully leaned into. Her aunt whispered warm words of reassurance, but it did not make her feel better. All her tears had dried up and she only felt hollow inside.
Her aunt stayed by her side, trying to coax her to eat or drink something. But Hermione was steadfast in her refusal to listen to her. She was thinking of what Rhaegar had mentioned about magic. Necromancy and raising the dead were the darkest of all the types of magic. If she had the ability to bring her mother back to life, she would be tempted to give it a try.
However, she did not allow herself to be hopeful. Both types of magic must certainly have consequences. In his bid to cheat death, Voldemort turned himself into a snake-like monster. He created the inferi, mindless zombie-like creatures raised from the dead to serve as his minions. Her mother was gone, and if she ever tried to bring her back, her mother might only be a shell of her former self, lacking the gentle, caring soul she loved in her. In good conscience, she could not attempt to practise such magic.
She remained in her aunt's comforting embrace for the entire night until dawn broke out. Her aunt had settled into an uneasy sleep during the night. However, she could not stop thinking of what had transpired during the past two days. She removed her aunt's arms from around her and walked out of her room.
She asked the guards stationed outside the door to lead her to her younger brother's room. She wanted to see little Tyrion, who would never have the opportunity to meet their kind-hearted mother. In the corridors, she overheard the maids whispering about the dwarf child who killed her mother with his evil eye. They silenced their whispers when they saw her and gave her pity-filled gazes, which was too much for her to bear.
She was not surprised to see her father and Uncle Kevan in the room. Her father had not taken the loss of her mother well at all. Whatever life was there in those green eyes that she loved was gone. He was expressionless as Uncle Kevan said something to him in a low voice. Both men had their eyes on a small bed where a baby was asleep.
She heard Uncle Kevan greet her, but she did not respond to him. She walked up to the bed and pulled back the sheet to look at her brother. Tyrion did not look as despicable as the maids had made him sound. He had a head slightly larger than a regular baby, with thin, flaxen hair that nearly looked white. He slept peacefully with his little baby hands clenched into fists.
She held his fisted hand in her own. She knew the humiliation that Hagrid and Professor Flitwick had to endure for their part-giant and part-goblin ancestry, respectively. But they proved to be talented professors and brave men who never hesitated to put their own lives at risk to protect the students from those who sought to harm them. A person's stature did not matter. Tyrion may be a dwarf, but he had the ability to be just as smart and brave as her professors.
She felt a pair of hands picking her up. Her uncle carried her back to the place where her father sat. Her father did not speak to her as he continued to stare ahead. Uncle Kevan pulled her to sit with them. "Child, I cannot express in words how devastated we are all. But it pains me to see your torment. I want you to know that we are there for you. Should you be in need of anything, do not hesitate to ask us", he said gently. She nodded at his words.
She sat next to them silently as they continued to look at Tyrion. A guard walked into the room to report to Uncle Kevan about the work of the silent sisters, and her uncle excused himself.
She remained in the room next to her father, unsure of whether her presence was welcome. He hadn't spoken a word since she had last seen him. Hesitantly, she laid her hand on his. He started at the touch and turned to look at her. His eyes had a cold, empty look when he saw her. He nodded curtly before he caught hold of her hand and dragged her away to her room.
Her aunt was searching for her when her father led her to her room. "Tywin! I do not know... Oh Jeyne! You could have woken me. Oh, child!", her aunt sighed sadly when she took in her pallid skin and dark circles under her eyes. She gave instructions to Briony as her father walked out of her room silently. They worked together to dress her in a black mourning gown. They led her to the sept, where the morning prayers were to begin.
Her mother was laid in a bier in the sept, where she would remain for seven days and seven nights. The silent sisters had prepared her mother's mortal remains for the ceremony with great care. She looked peaceful, almost like she was asleep. She was dressed in a beautiful golden gown. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the crystals bathed the sept in the colours of the rainbow and her mother's gown shimmered in the haze of the many-coloured light.
She saw that the nobles of Lannisport, Kayce, and Feastfires had arrived at the Rock for the morning prayers to pay their respects to her mother. More nobles would arrive in the next six days. The Marbrands had also arrived from Ashemark to provide support to her family. Addam Marbrand sat next to Jaime, as her brother tried his hardest to control his tears. She overheard her father once telling him that tears were a mark of weakness in a man, and it was apparent that her brother had taken that comment seriously.
A hand slipped into hers, and she saw a teary-eyed Cersei standing next to her. She was dressed in a matching black gown and she looked lost. "They did not allow me to leave my room yesterday. Jaime managed to visit me when the guards were not paying attention. He heard our mother's screams, Jeyne. We feared the worst and we heard from the maids that the imp killed our mother", she whispered.
"I was there, Cersei. I saw everything. Our mother was not killed by Tyrion. She lost too much blood and died because of that. I couldn't do anything to help", she said softly.
"What could you have done to help, Jeyne? The imp killed her with his evil eye. The maids say that he has a black eye. I heard that he can bring ill will to those who see his black eye. That was why our mother died. I do not want to see him and I wish that he goes to the seven hells for what he did", Cersei said bitterly.
Uncle Kevan had been standing nearby, unbeknownst to them, and he stepped in to correct Cersei. "My child, Jeyne speaks truly. Your brother has mismatched eyes, but his gaze does not cause ill will to anyone. He is a sweet child, albeit a dwarf. Jeyne has seen him, and she can tell you that he will be as wise as your father and as kind as your mother. All he needs is your love", he said.
Cersei huffed at that and continued to stare ahead. The septons walked in, and they filled the sept with their songs and prayed their prayers. Her family was called to the front to kneel before her mother's bier and offer their prayers. She held Cersei's hand for the entire ceremony.
When she had to get up after the prayers, she stumbled when her legs gave out under her from exhaustion. Cersei let go of her hand in surprise and she fell down on the hard marble floor on her knees. She stifled the cry of pain that threatened to leave her, but she found it hard to get back onto her feet unassisted. Uncle Gerion was the first to help her, and he had to carry her back to their place in the sept.
She watched the other nobles bring great bouquets of red roses that they left at the foot of the bier, as Uncle Gerion pushed back the hem of her gown to examine her knees. He hissed when he saw her knees turning an alarming shade of bluish-black. "Just wait for some more time, sweet child. After the prayers, I will take you to Maester Creylen", he promised.
By the time the prayers were completed, there were huge piles of roses surrounding her mother's bier. The novices brought censers, and the air grew thick with incense. They opened the doors of the sept for the nobles to leave. When they made their way out, she saw that thousands of smallfolk had come to pay their last respects to her mother.
As promised, Uncle Gerion carried her to Maester Creylen's room. Cersei trailed after him, reluctant to be parted from them. When Maester Creylen was preparing a poultice for her badly bruised knees, she sat next to them.
"Father said I cannot be together with Jaime. He said Jaime would be sent to the Vale. Uncle, please tell me that it isn't for real! Jaime was very disappointed. He does not like Lord Robert. Now, I have to stay at the Rock with only the imp, as he killed our mother. Jeyne and father will be in King's Landing, and Jaime will be in the Vale! Father said that he will call for Melara and the other Jeyne to be my companions at the Rock. One is fat and the other is greedy and I do not like both", Cersei exclaimed.
"Do not call your brother an imp or a monster, child. Your mother would not like that, would she? You do have me, Kevan, Tygett, Genna, and Dorna. We will always be there for you. For the love you bear for your mother, can you be a caring sister to little Tyrion? ", he asked kindly.
"I will not!", Cersei hissed at him, making her recoil at the acidity in her tone.
"Lady Jeyne, when did you have your last meal?", Maester Creylen's voice interrupted whatever Cersei was about to say next. She considered his question and realised that she did not know the answer. She had refused to eat the pea soup that Aunt Genna had brought for her, to the point where she had knocked the bowl from her aunt's hands and the soup had spilled onto the floor. She hadn't eaten anything else during the previous day. However, she had eaten something on the last day she saw her mother alive.
Her silence was an answer enough for Maester Creylen. He sent word to a servant for some broth, and he handed the bowl to her. "You must eat, Lady Jeyne. I would advise some rest after you have had something to eat", he said.
"We can go to the courtyard facing the sea. I will ensure that she has eaten, Maester Creylen", her uncle said as he steered them away from the Maester's room. Cersei followed them until they saw Jaime heading towards his room. She made her excuses and started to go after him, but a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Cersei, I forbid you from taking one step further. Go to your room. Gerion, where are you taking the children?", her father said. She watched as her uncle told her father about the Maester's recommendations. Her father took the bowl from her uncle's hands and ordered him to take Cersei to her room.
He took her back to her room and placed the bowl in her hands. "I lost my lady wife yesterday. I will not lose my daughter today. Eat", he said. She obeyed his command and took a hesitant sip. The taste made her gag, but she forced herself to swallow.
Between spoonfuls of broth, she thought back to what she had nearly revealed to him before Uncle Kevan interrupted her with the dire news. "Father, will you believe me if I tell you that magic could have helped mother?", she asked him. He did not say anything for a while, but she saw him shaking his head.
"Magic is a mummer's farce. I have always been sceptical of anyone who claims to possess knowledge of the higher mysteries, especially those who hail from Essos. Was the nature of your solution to assist your mother in the use of magic? Are you claiming to be a woods witch now?", he asked her harshly.
She shook her head, not understanding his reference. "Not a woods witch. I had a dream. It was very realistic. Mother had died during childbirth in that dream…", she started to explain.
"Aerys does tell me very often about Denys the Dreamer and how she saved her family with a prophetic dream. Magic was real and in existence before the Doom of Valyria. For more than a century, magic has ceased to exist in Westeros, though there are rumours that it still exists in Essos. The Citadel has rejected the fanciful explanations of visions and spells in favour of logic and reason, and I do believe that we are better off without magic. Your dream must have been a coincidence and nothing more. I do not want my daughter to spout the lies of the mummers, like the red priest who has managed to charm the king", he spat.
"But, you do know that magic is real. The king felt that magical force…", she started to defend her stand.
"The serving girl was from the westerlands, and she did not have the magic that she was accused of having. The king must have accidentally spilled the wine over himself. I have been to Essos, as have Tygett and Gerion. We have heard of all the powers that warlocks, priests, and shadow binders claim to possess. Even they can tell you that these 'wielders of magic' use clever tricks to entertain their visitors or to convince us to abandon the Faith and embrace the worship of the Red God. You have seen for yourself how the alchemists claim to be able to create gold with their magic, and yet they managed to fool you with a piece of brass. It is a mummer's farce and I will not have you believe in their lies", he cut her off.
"But…", she started to protest, but a look from her father silenced her. She paused eating for a moment and stared hard at the pitcher of water on her table, next to where Minny had curled up. She focused hard on trying to topple the pitcher over to prove her point to her father.
She thought of her need to obtain her father's support for developing her magic. She could use his knowledge and experience to interpret any other visions that the three-eyed crow showed her. Had she revealed her magic earlier, she could have worked with him to save her mother. She focused on the thoughts that plagued her and used them to channel her magic. The half-empty pitcher wobbled slightly, as she continued to urge it forward.
It was her first attempt to control her use of magic and she felt an unknown emotion making her heart feel heavy that she hadn't used this for her mother. When the pitcher had moved nearly an inch off the table, her father noticed that she had stopped eating.
"Stop staring and finish eating", he snapped. His voice woke Minny, who completed her work of toppling the pitcher off the table as she knocked the object to the ground in her bid to flee from her room. Minny's act did not please her father, who called in a servant to clean up the water on the floor. She felt a wave of exhaustion dulling her senses as moving the pitcher by an inch took a surprising amount of effort from her.
"I have to ask Vylarr to find someone to train your cat. I do not want her knocking over items again", he stated as his face twisted in disapproval. She looked down at her bowl in dejection as she continued to eat. She had a good opportunity to convince him, and it had not been a success. She had to ask Rhaegar to help her interpret her dreams, given that he was the only person who believed her.
After she had finished eating, she stared at her father. All the happy memories she had with him seemed to be in the distant past. He had never been this rude to her, even when she had done something to invoke his anger. Her mother's death had clearly led to the death of a part of him that was capable of kindness and joy. She thought of her mother's last words and choked.
"Mother's last words to me were, 'I am disappointed in you'", she told him. She had disappointed herself by failing to plan ahead, which was not how she usually worked. If she had taken her dream seriously, she could have worked on interpreting it correctly and saving her mother. Her sceptical nature made her dismiss the vision, and all she could do now was express her regret.
Her father let out a short, bitter laugh that terrified her. "Joanna's last words to me were, 'You are a monster'. Perhaps she was correct. I am a monster for doing whatever is needed to ensure the best for my children. But I am beginning to fear that my efforts have all been for naught. Look at how the three of you have been letting me down. Cersei and Jaime dealt a huge blow to my faith in them with their activities, and you have let me down today with your ill-advised belief in the higher mysteries. I do not consider the imp to be my son, and I had to resist the urge to let the waves carry him away for what he did to Joanna. The only reason why I am letting him live is because he is a Lannister", he said bitterly.
She shrank back in her seat at his sharp tone. His wrath was a sight to behold, and she was terrified for poor Tyrion, whose 'crime' in her father's eyes was either being born a dwarf, or her mother's death from the blood loss during the birth, or a combination of the two.
She wanted to speak up, to defend her brother and to make him understand that she and her siblings would like him to fill in the void left by her mother. But, she realised the futility of arguing for the same, especially when he was still processing the shock of her mother's death, and she chose to remain silent.
He did not leave the room until she polished off two cups of dreamwine and lay down on her bed. As the dreamwine pulled her into her dreams, she thought that it was a figment of her imagination that she saw tears welling up in his eyes as he mourned silently for her mother.