CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR – KING'S LANDING BLUES
"Never let the sadness of your past
And the fear of your future
Ruin the happiness of your present."
-Unknown
In the days that followed their eventful return to the capital, Caryssa stayed abed.
No coaxing from her husband, her sister, her loyal guard or her goodbrother could drag her from her chambers.
She did not dress herself, and were it not for Sansa's intervention, she would not have washed nor brushed her hair either. Everything became a chore to be avoided, even feeding herself took more effort than she deemed it was worth.
It was as if the life had been extinguished in her.
"We can't let this continue," She heard Jaime utter from the doorway. Jaime, Tyrion, and Sansa were huddled together, discussing her health as though she couldn't hear them. "This isn't healthy, for her or the babe."
"I've never seen her like this—not even when Bran fell." Sansa whispered back.
"Your sister is the eldest child. She likely felt it was her duty to be the strong one for the rest of you. Now your losses are beginning to mount up. Your father, your mother and your brothers are all gone. Just one of those losses would be enough to break a person, let alone all five in such a short time," Tyrion mused, and Caryssa squeezed her eyes closed as if to block his words. It didn't work. "Add bearing the child with the blood of those responsible for those losses…"
"What do we do?" Sansa questioned quietly, and her sister felt her heart clench with guilt.
Caryssa wasn't Sansa's responsibility.
The young lady was exactly that. Young. It was the responsibility of the eldest child of the family to be the one to look after the younger siblings, to care for them and worry about them, not the other way around.
Yet, the mother-to-be couldn't bring herself to stop wallowing in grief.
How could she?
Losing her parents was difficult, but every child expects to bury their parents someday. It was the natural order of things; parents bring children into the world and then those children see the parents out of it, in a sense.
Her brothers were the ones that had shattered her.
Robb, the other half of her soul, cut down in the prime of his life. He was so young, so full of vigor and virility and hope, and he had only just begun to truly live, with a new wife and a child on the way. Though, it had been his choice of bride that had set his end into motion.
Her little brother, her best friend, had been betrayed by his bannermen for following his young, naïve heart, slaughtered and beheaded, then paraded around like a trophy of war, and she had not been there to stop it.
She had promised herself that Melisandre's prophecy would not come true, that she would not let it, but she had.
She had failed him.
Then there were Bran and Rickon.
Two innocent boys that had nothing to do with the war that waged between their family and the crown, and they were killed by a man they had loved as a brother.
They were children.
Bran was a cripple and, the last time she had seen him, Rickon still clung to her skirts and hid behind her legs from strangers.
How could they have defended themselves? Would they have even tried when someone they trusted turned around and raised his hands against them?
Her wolf pups, whom she had help raise, whom she had carried in her arms, bathed, rocked to sleep, and kissed away nightmares for, had been butchered, burned, and hung from the walls of their own home, and where was she?
Too far away to save them or die with them.
And that was the ugly truth at the heart of her grief, after all.
It wasn't that most of the Starks were dead.
The real tragedy, in Caryssa's eyes, at least, was that she had not died with them.
"My lord," A new voice, Tyrion's squire's voice, spoke, "The new maester is at the door. Should I let him in or send him away?"
"Send him in, Podrick," Caryssa called, not moving, or tearing her eyes from the window she had been gazing mindlessly at, "And if he's finished with his gossiping, you can send my husband in too."
"If you could hear us, why didn't you say anything?" Jaime asked, as he stepped into the bedchamber and strode towards the bed.
"I didn't care to."
"Sit up, at least, now the maester is here. Up you get," Jaime tugged her upright, ignored her glare and smoothed down her messy hair until she was somewhat presentable. "There, now you don't look like you were dragged backwards through a hedge."
"I couldn't care less what I look like, you irritating bastard, and why should I? Will your daddy tell us off if his new maester informs him I was less than presentable?"
"Well, first of all, my lady, I am your maester, not the Lord Hand's," A thick, foreign accent came from the doorway, which had been unintentionally left open, so the man had let himself in, and Caryssa's head snapped to stare at the newcomer. "And second of all, even with your hair mussed from rest, you are as beautiful as they say."
The stranger had cropped dark curls, warm eyes, and a kind smile. His bronze skin made the she-wolf think of Dorne or the Free Cities, but his simple grey robe and sandals, heavy metal chain and a full leather bag at his side screamed "maester of the Citadel".
From her spot at the foot of the bed, Rhaenyra raised her head, blinked a couple times at the newcomer, but, after a cursory glance, deemed him inconsequential and thus unworthy of disturbing her own rest and settled back down again.
The inaction of her protector filled Caryssa with a sense of ease, but even so, she would not lower her guard completely.
"I am Maester Mors, and I am here to serve you, Lady Lannister, for as long as you'll have me."
Mors bowed low at the waist, then closed and locked the door behind him.
"Just Mors? No family name?" Jaime questioned when the man drew close enough for the two to shake hands.
"No family name to speak of. My father was a poor blacksmith in Sunspear's Shadow City. The man had eleven children to feed and not enough coin, so, being the youngest and scrawniest, I was given to the Citadel as a boy."
"So, you are from Dorne then! Does Tywin know?" Caryssa asked, and the man shrugged, heaving his hefty bag from his shoulder to place beside her on the bed.
"I'm not sure. It was Lord Tyrion who selected me. I believe I heard that you would sooner trust a leper to examine you than any man of the Lord Hand's," Maester Mors moved to Caryssa's vanity table where her handmaiden had set a fresh bowl of water that morning for her to wash her face with, and used it clean his hands. "I wouldn't blame you if you did not trust me right away, either, but I am already here so it would only be polite to not make this a wasted trip, yes?"
"I trust the judgement of my wolf, and Rhaenyra hasn't torn you limb from limb as of yet, so you can perform your examination, but she isn't the only one with teeth," Caryssa smiled, revealing said weapons, "and she isn't the only one who bites when made to feel uncomfortable."
"Understood," The man nodded, then glanced at Jaime and gestured to the door, "Would you like to wait outside, my Lord?"
"He stays."
"Men do not traditionally remain in the room for these sorts of things-"
"We're not really a traditional pair. If my wife wants me to stay, I'll stay." Jaime stated as he grabbed the stool from Caryssa's vanity table and plopped himself onto it, noisily shuffling it even closer to the bed.
Caryssa immediately held out her hand, and, blinking, Jaime took it in both of his and pressed a kiss to her palm.
Mors held up his hands, acquiescing to the mother's demand, and got to work.
"When did you have your quickening, my lady?"
"Caryssa, in private, and three months ago, I believe. It felt like butterfly wings fluttering inside me, scared me half to death," She answered, trying not to tense as the maester lifted her nightgown. He started his examination by feeling her swollen stomach. "I was quite sick for a couple of months, but I know that can be normal as my mother was quite ill when with child with both of my sisters."
"Were you sick all day?"
"No, usually either in the morning or at night."
Maester Mors hummed.
"Have you had any concerns? Any long-lasting pains? I was told you have been travelling a lot, which can cause stress on an unborn babe."
"No long-lasting pains. The babe has managed to steal my breath a few times by kicking me in the ribs. He'll be a knight like his father, I think."
"You don't know the babe is a boy. Both of our parents' firstborns were daughters." Jaime interjected, not paying any mind to his wife's rolled eyes. Almost half of the remarks out of his mouth were met with the action, so he had become used to it.
"I hardly think Cersei counts as firstborn when you are twins. It could have been either of you!"
"Perhaps, but it wasn't. I think the babe will be a girl."
"You just like to argue with me," Caryssa replied, shaking her head, turning away from her husband only when she felt the maester's head resting on her stomach. "Are you listening for the heartbeat?"
"I'm trying to," The man ribbed, a smile on his lips. "Just stay quiet for a moment, my lord, Lady Caryssa."
The couple bit their tongues, though their eyes met nervously as the moment seemed to stretch on.
The maester seemed to keep his ear pressed against her belly for an age, his eyes closed in concentration, his warm hands cupping her as if to keep her in place.
"Well?"
Jaime would have apologized for his impatience, but it wasn't exactly one of his better-known attributes.
"The babe has a strong heartbeat. A fighter, just like his parents," Mors grinned, lifting his head and standing upright after tugging his patient's nightgown back down to return her modesty. "I have one more question and then I will tell you what I believe the gender of the babe is."
"You can't possibly tell just from caressing her belly and listening for the heartbeat." Jaime insisted, incredulous.
"Most can't, but I have always had a sense for these things," Mors returned, "Caryssa, have you had any cravings?"
"In Winterfell, our cook Gage used to make these little lemon cakes for us. I never cared for them back then, so I would give mine to Sansa, my sister, as they were her favorites…but I've craved them for months," Caryssa admitted, almost sheepishly. So much death and destruction, so much loss and pain, and she had even dreamed of those little cakes, the sugared lemons and dusted sugar on top of soft sponge cake. "I even thought of asking my brother to send one of his men to hunt down strawberries once but thought better of it."
"Hm…the babe hangs low in the belly, you have experienced some sickness, but it didn't last all day and your main cravings have been sweet," The maester mused, tapping a finger against his chin as he deliberated. "It is my belief that you will have a son."
"Truly?"
"A little heir to both your houses," Mors stated, "Congratulations."
It was a heartfelt sentiment from the maester, but his wording made Caryssa's blood go cold.
She had mostly been jesting when she said she believed the babe would be a boy, because how could she really know? A mother's intuition could only take a woman so far.
But to have a man who had studied medicine all but confirm that she was carrying a son terrified her.
A daughter would have been safer.
If she had a son, what would they do to her and Sansa? What would become of them if they were no longer needed to provide the necessary heir to take Winterfell?
"Gods, you've turned pale as a ghost!"
Jaime moved his hands to cup her face, pressing one briefly to her forehead, and she gripped his shoulders.
"No one must know. No one can know he's a boy. They'll hurt Sansa. You know they will," Caryssa begged, her fingers biting the flesh of Jaime's arms even through his tunic. Her blue eyes were wide and pleading and filled with a sudden onslaught of tears. Her breathing turned rapid and sharp, as if she struggled to keep air in her lungs. "If they think it's a boy, Tywin will make plans to get rid of us. He'll use him! He'll kill us and he'll use my son to take our home. Jaime, please. You can't tell him-"
"My lady, calm down! Calm down! Stress isn't good for the babe," Mors insisted, not moving to crowd her as he could tell it would not help. Her wolf did move, but just to place her head and paws on her mistress' lap, a comforting gesture, he was sure. "We will not say a word. No one outside of this room need know until the babe is born!"
"He's right. We know, that's all that matters," Jaime agreed, holding his wife's desperate gaze. He pressed one of her hands to his heart, letting her feel its steady rhythm and slowed his breath until his wife began to unconsciously mimic it. He remembered Lady Shiera doing this for him a couple times when he was a boy, after his mother had passed away, when he would cry so hard that he couldn't catch his breath. "Forget any plans my father may have for you, for Sansa, for us. We will make our own plans."
Caryssa stared into Jaime's eyes, those glittering green eyes that belonged to every Lannister yet seemed so different on him and felt something shift inside her.
It wasn't their son, kicking her organs as he was wont to do, but it wasn't something that she could name.
She felt calmed by it, whatever it was.
"You promise?"
"I would swear on the gods, but you and I both know that I'm not much of a believer…so I'll swear on us, and on the life of our son, I will keep you and your sister safe, even from my own family, no matter what it takes."
Caryssa nodded.
There was still not a lot of trust between them, because of his actions and the actions of their families, but she felt she could trust him in this. There was enough between them that she knew his words weren't empty air.
She relinquished her hold on Jaime, sinking back into her many pillows, and looked back to the maester.
"I would appreciate your discretion, maester. Unlike my goodfather, I have no gold to give you-"
"My dear lady, I told you that I do not work for Tywin Lannister. When I heard that Ned Stark's daughter had requested a new maester, I volunteered for the job."
"I don't understand. Why?"
"In Dorne, the small folk owe a lot to House Martell. Our ruling family looks after us well…Princess Elia was the most beloved. Every person from the Red Mountains to the Broken Arm grieved when she was murdered alongside her innocent children. She was shown so little respect by Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister…but your father and Lord Arryn brought her body back to Dorne, to her family and her people, and showed that they were men of honor in doing so," Mors gathered his things as he spoke, but his eyes flickered to the Stark daughter often. "We maesters hear much in the Citadel, and the word is that you are very much your father's daughter. I am here to honor the respect he showed our princess, and to stop what happened to her from happening to another innocent woman being held hostage in this filthy place."
Daena Lannister was beyond frustrated.
The new maester, a handsome Dornish man, had arrived to perform an examination on the Stark bitch and her unborn babe, but her ugly, giant protector had blocked the doorway to the bedchamber to stop Daena from listening in.
Queen Cersei, her distant cousin, had been insistent that she gather gossip while performing her duties as Lady Stark's (the Queen had slapped her when she had referred to her rival as Lady Lannister) handmaiden, but she had been blocked at every opportunity.
If the Tarth wench wasn't on guard, it was the direwolf or Lord Tyrion and his mercenary or Lord Tyrion's squire or Lady Sansa and her handmaiden.
It was impossible to do as Queen Cersei had ordered without being caught and punished.
"So, you mean to tell me that you know nothing of what happened during their first meeting with the new Maester?"
Queen Cersei's scowling face made the young handmaiden wince.
"The big woman stood at the door and watched me the whole time as I pretended to clean things! I couldn't get close enough! But I do know his name and where he's from, Maester Mors of the Shadow City of Sunspear in Dorne, so maybe you could ask Lord Varys to investigate him?"
"I could have found that out myself. What use are you to me, Daena?"
"Your Grace, I'm trying my best-"
"Well, you need to try harder. I want to know everything about that wolf cunt and her pup. I want to know what she's doing in those chambers, what she's saying, what she's planning, everything! If you can't do what I ask of you, I'll have you married off to some brutish minor lord to pump out oafish children, do you understand?"
Daena considered, just for a moment, the consequences of telling her cousin to get one of her many lovers to do her dirty business for her instead, but having her throat cut and being dumped into Blackwater Bay to end up as a barely identifiable bloated corpse wasn't really the ending the young woman hoped for.
So, she nodded.
"Yes, Your Grace. I'll do better next time, I swear it."
Finally dressed and out of her bed, Caryssa toyed with the skirt of her black gown as Jaime, Sansa and Tyrion ate, ignoring their conversation as she contemplated the morning's events.
She carried a son inside her.
In her mind, she could see a boy the perfect likeness to Jon as a boy, but with mischievous emerald eyes that mirrored her husband's. A wolf pup with lion eyes.
Yet, every time she daydreamed of her son, Tywin would appear and take her pup from her arms, and the mischief would be stamped out of the boy's eyes and turn as cold as the old lion's. The heir of Winterfell molded in the image of the Old Lion of Lannister made her want to scream.
It would not happen. Tywin would not take her son from her.
She would not allow it.
"Do you not like the food, Caryssa? Cersei has gone mad for boar since Robert's death, but it's not to everyone's taste," Tyrion remarked, waving a sausage about on his own fork with a smile, breaking through her worrying. The intricately carved, circular, mahogany table, inlaid with gold trim, was laden with food: cooked meats, fresh vegetables, and bread loaves already sliced for their convenience. There was lots of choice, nothing that Caryssa could stomach though. "I can send Pod to fetch something else from the kitchens."
Podrick, to his credit, smiled politely and moved from his place behind Tyrion to look at her expectantly.
"I will fetch you anything you like, my lady."
"If it's not too much trouble, Podrick. Could you fetch me something sweet? If the cook hasn't finished preparing dessert, I'll take a whole bag of sugar if you can find it."
Podrick grinned, bowed at the waist, and set off immediately, ready to give the pregnant lady her every desire, and Caryssa let out a quiet sigh of relief once the chamber door closed behind him.
"You shouldn't just eat sweets. All the books say it's bad for the babe, and so did Maester Mors." Sansa nagged.
Caryssa appreciated her sister's diligence in attending to her, but Sansa was also beginning to sound exactly like their mother, and it was like a repeated dagger to the heart.
"The books were written by men who have never carried a child so they can burn for all I care," Caryssa hissed, leaning forward to dig her fingertips in her aching back. The babe made every part of her sore from the added weight on her joints; she'd yet to find anything that provided any relief other than a long soak in steaming water. "I'm not hungry, in any case."
"Then why send Podrick to the kitchens?" Jaime questioned, standing up from his chair and moving around the table to stand behind her. She startled when he touched her back, but simply leaned forward to give him better access when his hands began to massage the spot at which she'd been prodding.
"We need to discuss the future and I can't trust a Payne."
"Podrick is a good boy-" Tyrion started, but Caryssa glared at him.
"A Payne beheaded my father with his own sword. And he's in service to House Lannister. He could be telling your father or sister anything we discuss in private. Forgive me, Tyrion, but how am I supposed to trust him or you, for that matter? I cannot even trust my own husband!"
Jaime's hands froze against her.
"Even now?"
Caryssa gritted her teeth at the disbelief that tinged his indignant tone.
"Has something changed since you slaughtered my friends and attacked my father?" She shoved her chair backwards, ignoring Jaime's pained groan as the heavy mahogany seat slammed into his shins, and heaved herself out of it. She shuffled away from them, one hand under her swollen belly, the other bracing her back as she began to pace. "Or since you kidnapped me and laid siege to my mother's childhood home? Or when you were my brother's prisoner? Or am I supposed to believe you are suddenly on my side simply because I carry your child?"
"I'm on your side because I love you."
Ryssa heard Sansa gasp, but she didn't turn around to face her husband, instead staring at Rhaenyra and Lady as they shared Rhaenyra's dark fur rug in front of the fireplace. The two direwolves watched her intently, though neither moved.
His declaration, as romantic as it was and as much it might have thrilled her to hear at the beginning of their marriage, didn't move her.
It couldn't.
Love wasn't what she needed from him right now.
"That's not enough." Her rosy lips trembled, and her eyes watered, but her voice did not shake.
"Not enough?" Jaime knocked her vacant chair aside, the hefty seat crashing loudly against the stone floor, not caring that it startled his brother and goodsister, as well as the two direwolves who leapt to their feet, flanking Caryssa on either side as they growled lowly at the perceived threat. "What would be enough? Hm? What would be enough to prove to you that the only person in this fucking castle I now fight for stands in front of me, carrying our son in her belly? What do I have to do?"
Caryssa slowly turned to face Jaime.
"Keep your oath to my mother."
Jaime seemed to deflate.
"What?"
"You swore you'd protect her daughters, that you would take Sansa and Arya home. So do it." The pregnant woman stepped towards her husband, taking his hands in hers, her Tully blue eyes wide and teary as she stared up at him.
"What?" Sansa questioned, but her sister continued as if she hadn't spoken.
"Send Sansa North to our brother, Jon, at the Wall, where even your father cannot reach her!"
"We can't do that-" Tyrion started, his eyes squeezed closed and his fingers gripping his goblet tight.
She had expected some resistance, yet her body was still flooded with rage at hearing it.
"That's horseshit!" She snapped, her eyes flickering from the dwarf back to her Jaime. "You can, Jaime. I have never asked you for anything, and I never will again. Just give me this one thing. Please, protect Sansa. When our son is born-"
"You can't know that the babe is a boy." Tyrion stated, taking a steadying gulp of his arbor red.
He could understand where his goodsister's concern was coming from, could even understand that being with child was playing with her usually rational mind and emotions, but even she couldn't see the future.
"The maester all but confirmed it," Jaime murmured, reaching for Caryssa's cheek to wipe away her tears. His wife openly, but silently, wept as she begged him to betray his own family to save hers. His too, he supposed. He glanced at Sansa, who had shed a few tears of her own at seeing her elder sister so overcome, and he sighed. He gazed down at his wife. "I told you I would protect her."
"You promised that we'd make our own plans," She grabs Jaime's hand that rested against her cheek and gripped it desperately. "This is it. Our plan. Get Sansa away from the capital before the babe is born. No one can hurt, no one can force her to bear her own Lannister heir, no one can use her as a pawn in their games any longer. Please, Jaime. Please."
"Caryssa-"
"If you try to convince me to keep her here, then I know you don't care for her and only for her claim. That makes you my enemy," Caryssa snapped, whirring round to glower at her sister's unwanted spouse. Rhaenyra padded closer to the table; her teeth bared as she sensed her mistress' anger aimed towards the dwarf. Tyrion swallowed hard at the sight of the fearsome animal directing its protectiveness for its mistress in his direction. "You call me sister, well, now is the time to prove you are part of my family, to prove your loyalty to this family. Are you my brother, Tyrion, or are you your father's son? Will you help me save my sister, or will you press your claim as her husband? Choose, but choose wisely. I refuse to lose another sibling."
With that gauntlet thrown, the pregnant woman turned on her heel and marched into her bed chamber, waiting only a moment for Rhaenyra to pad in after her, before she slammed the door closed.
A/N:
I'm still alive!
Hello, lovelies! I am back again, managing to get my one update a year done – which, I am still sad about, because I was hoping to update more often this year. But what a year – my very first nephew, Freddie, or Lord Frederick (my dad bought a lordship online, that comes with an official certificate because he's an absolute dork and we love him for it) was born! He's an absolute angel faced dreamboat! He's so adorable and he makes my heart happy every time I see him, which isn't very often because my sister moved nine hours away to a separate island off mainland England with her baby daddy because he got a good job there, which is sad times but good for them. The other thing in my life is that my nan's dementia is worse. Like she struggles to get her words out and isn't eating a lot worse, so my dad and I are having to go to her house twice a day on alternating days because she's still lucid enough to refuse a carer, which makes things more difficult for us. Plus, my depression/anxiety is still awful, and I now think that I may also have ADHD and autism, because it explains so much about me, but I haven't gotten a diagnosis yet.
Sorry for the brain dump there, but it's been a while!
Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter despite the wait! It's still a bit angsty and it's a little short, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing. I've also been heavily inspired by the release of House of the Dragon! I honestly didn't think I'd watch it after how disappointing Season 8 of GoT ended up being, but HoTD got me. The acting is superb, I love everyone, I have so many new fic ideas for the show…It's kinda taken over my life, along with LotR: Rings of Power! Have you guys watched HoTD? What do you guys think so far? I'm definitely leaning towards Team Blacks aka Team Rhaenyra. Let me know what you think!
Anyways, thank you to my reviewers on the last chapter. You guys are awesome and I'm so grateful for each and every one of you!
Thank you to the following lovely people;
NicoleR85, Sparky She-Demon, BrittStar1199, 10868letsgo, ZabuzasGirl, Hermione Blackwell, CrimsonMother, Guest (1), Hapsgurl80, MadHatterWeasley, Reflection Rose, Shadow Wolf 15846, GS, missfites, dcg1887, White Blossoming, Anastacia Lynn, ComradeGoose, and ForeverTeamEdward13.
Hopefully I will be able to update soon, but I won't make any promises because I don't wanna break them!
Much love to you all,
Sophie xx