*CONTENT WARNING - CONTAINS GRAPHIC SCENES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME PEOPLE. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION*
"What if we're recognised?" She asked feebly. They'd come to a stop at a small clearing in the woods, the Wendwater river flowing through the foliage and trees offering them somewhere to dampen their thirst and wipe their faces clean. "You said we've nearly reached Grassy Vale, there'll be no woods there. Our movements won't be veiled. No hiding." Her eyebrows knitted together with concern as she watched her brother supping water from the river. It proved difficult with only one hand, but he managed nonetheless.
"The Red Keep is destroyed, Kings Landing is destroyed." He gazed at her. "I don't think anyone will be looking for us, we'd be presumed dead like the thousands of others left burning in the city."
"Perhaps we were a little premature in cleansing our faces." She glanced down at her fresh hands, the dirt and grime washed away with some effort as they knelt on the riverbank. "It might have helped."
"By all means, smear it back on if you'd like-"
"Don't." She hissed, preemptively.
"Don't what?" His face twisted, not knowing why she'd turned so suddenly.
"Don't do that." Their eyes met. "Don't make me feel stupid, like I don't know what I'm talking about."
"Cersei, if you think dirt will help-"
"I am Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." She growled with ferocity before her face deadened in seconds. Her words were more subdued now. "I...was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Many people know my face, they know what I look like."
"Alright." He held his dripping hand out, an attempt to keep the peace upon noting her clear distress. "I hear you." Scooping a handful of muck from beside where he knelt, he moved it towards her. "Here, cover your hair, that's the most telling detail about you. If thats darkened, nobody will take a second glance on suspicion that you're Cersei Lannister."
"And you?"
"I think I'll be okay, mine has greyed early. I am no longer a golden lion. You and the army of the dead saw to that." He made a small joke referring to the growing absence of blonde on his scalp. Instead it was slowly being replaced with darker shades of grey. Feeling satisfied when her mouth curled into a weak smile, he couldn't help but notice her eyes still look troubled.
He watched her for a few minutes, pasting the dirt and grit through her short golden locks. He imagined she wouldn't be enjoying this one single bit and he was correct. Aside from being held prisoner by the High Sparrow, his sister had never had to know grime, dirt or hunger before. He would have to remind himself of this along their journey. To be patient with her. She knew of a different slew of horrors though, ones he would never have to endure or experience. Held in marriage captivity for nearly fifteen years to a great big bear of a man. He'll never forget the sight of them, she was nineteen years old being married off to this giant man of six feet and six inches tall. He towered over her small frame. The torment he subjected her to during their marriage was enough to have made Jaime's blood boil, even now. The things he wished he'd done to make him pay for it.
"I'm hungry." Her delicate voice shook him from his violent revenge thoughts.
"That makes two of us." Rising to his feet he stared ahead into the abyss. "Grassy Vale is close. By the time we reach the end of the woods the sky will be darkening again. We'll find food there, I promise." He turned to face her, the blackened hair making her almost unrecognisble.
"And once we reach Highgarden, then what?"
"Tyrion told me he planned to head there for only two days on his way back to Casterly Rock without his grace knowing. The Queen has ordered him to organise her remaining men at the Rock and bring them back to the Capital." He didn't catch it but her skin ran cold with goosebumps at his mention of The Queen. That was her not two days ago. A Queen. The Queen. And now she travelled fearing for her life, mud coating her hair and dressed in a thieves clothes still stained and stinking of his sweat and blood. Jaime had carefully concealed the reddened patches with his hand crafted belt so as not to cause suspicion from civilians in the lands they were about to travel. "Jon Snow is taking the Kings Road to Harrenhal, the remaining Starks are joining him there before he escorts them back into Kings Landing for Daenerys' coronation. Tyrion doesn't know we made it out alive, once we've spoken with him, he'll know what to do."
"How?" She let a saddened laugh escape her lips. In her eyes, anywhere they went, they were going to be slaughtered by the Unsullied, butchered by the Dothraki, executed by the Northerners or burnt alive by a dragon. Her hope was wearing incredibly thin. "How is it that he'll know? He's the hand of the Queen. He is loyal to her, she'll have him killed along with us. The last of the Lannisters." Her eyes filled, her left hand cradling her bump whilst her right reached out for his arm desperately. "We have no hope Jaime, please. Let us find a boat and sail to Pentos." The urgency in her voice pulled at his heart strings.
"Tyrion has helped us this far." Stepping closer to her, he made sure to keep their eye contact strong. "He uttered something before I left to search for you, something that I can't shake." His features wrinkled in thought. "He said if the city burns despite the bells ringing, I could find him at the Rock where he'd have some news that would change everything. News that would change the seat of the Iron Throne and he told me it had something to do with Jon Snow. The bastard of Winterfell."
"Why would he do that? Why should we trust that?" She asked, her brain trying to understand why he would suddenly lose all faith in his precious Targaryen tyrant. "She has the Iron Throne, they got what they wanted-"
"Tyrion never wanted this. He wanted the city to survive, he wanted us to survive. She lost his support the moment she ignored your surrender and burnt alive thousands and thousands of innocents."
"Innocents." She uttered, her nostrils flaring briefly. "So many have died at my hand, as they have at your sword. We are not innocent, Jaime. Our little brother has wanted me dead for longer than I can remember. I don't believe he wanted me saved."
"Perhaps not, but there is one innocent here and he or she is growing inside of you." He wiped her cheek, an old tear still clinging to her skin. Never in his life had he had to witness her cry so frequently. It made him feel as though he was choking, his airways starved of air. "He loved the children, that much is true." His words seemed to pacify her, she had every right to be untrusting. Their baby brother had wanted her dead on more than once occasion. She hoped her lover was right and this wasn't one of those occasions.
"There's too many of them patrolling." He muttered angrily. The Unsullied marched the paths and roads he'd planned to travel as well as a few Dothraki riders riding nearby too. He didn't fancy his chances against one of those on a good day, let alone crippled with hunger and a sword wound to the abdomen. "They'd reached the edge of the Kingswood, his tired sister growing slower and slower on her feet. "We're going to have to cross the Blue Byrn river." Pulling back from the sheltered vantage point they'd stopped to rest at, he fixed his gaze upon Cersei's weary complexion.
"I can't, Jaime, I'll freeze." Her eyes pleaded with him. "I can barely feel my fingers and toes as it is." Her jaw chattered. Whilst he remained in his thick Winterfell clothing, she was covered in thin, ill fitting fabrics. Offering little to no warmth at all as soon as the sun had started to descend. This Winter was going to treat them cruelly it would seem.
"Unless you want to walk back into the woods for hours, there is no other way around it. We have to cross. We'll rest on the other side and head towards Ashford at first light. It's a market town, we'll feed, drink and find better clothing there." He saw her jaw tense, her eyelids flickering shut as she nodded silently with some resistance. She was resting on a rock, her body hunched slightly as the intense hunger pains started to make her middle feel as though it was tight and unable to stretch out.
Once again, hand in hand they stalked the river bank in search of a good place to cross. All seemed so gushing and dangerous until he found a slight lull in river speed with a couple of rocks emerging in the middle of the rapid waters. The sun had well and truly retired from the sky now, in it's place a sharp, curled moon hung like an uneven painting above them. The stars patterning the background and emphasising it's beauty. Ash and smoke finally cleared from the air. He lowered himself down into the water first, his breath instantly snatched from him at the sheer temperate of it upon resurfacing. The only downside of their selected crossing spot, it was from a higher banking so there was no easing into the coldness. They had to drop in from an overhanging ledge.
"Cersei." He gasped, still acclimatising his body in the water. "Sit on the edge and lower yourself into the water, I'll help you down so you don't go under." She could see even in the dark night sky, all colour had drained from his face. His blood rushing to the thick of his body, warming his major organs against the freeze. The sound of the river was drowning out their voices.
"I can't." She shook her head. "I can't do it."
"Yes you can." He coached up breathlessly. "I'm right here, I won't let you go." He reached for the first of the large rocks that would aid them in crossing, he could feel the river sweeping him aggressively whilst he clung to it, watching anxiously as she neared the edge. Looking down into the rapids nervously, she hesitated again. Unbeknownst to the pair of them, water was about to be a friend to her. Jaime's heart nearly stopped at the familiar sound of screeching and hooting in the distance, it was mingled in with the heavy beat of hooves ploughing through the woodland ground at a speed that indicated they'd been seen. And there he was. A lone Dothraki rider. "Cersei, now!" Jaime bellowed with an intense urgency. The savage warrior weaved between the trees making great distance straight towards her, missing every branch. His eyes locked on to his prey. The Mad Queen really was targeting anyone and everyone that appeared to be fleeing, for there was no way they'd been recognised as Lannisters, not in this light and this attire. "Jump!" Screaming his orders once again, he could see she was now aware of the incoming threat. She turned to look into the darkness of the woods, terrified of even just the sound of this Dothraki rider let alone his frightening appearance. Taking another step back, she had no more ledge to step on. It was life or death and she chose life. Nothing could have prepared her for how cool the water would be. The moment she hit the surface she'd felt Jaime's hand grip on to her upper arm with such a force she was sure he'd snapped it but that was far more desirable than being swept away by the raging river. Resurfacing, she inhaled loudly, almost panicked at the shock of it. The mud and dirt quickly rinsed from her hair as Jaime pulled her close to the rock with him. "You're okay, I've got you." The rider skidded to a stop on the bank, his horse rearing and protesting at the steep drop as a wild and dangerous look flashed across the Dothraki warrior's face. "No." Jaime breathed defeatedly before growling his next orders. "He knows who we are. Move! Now!" Pulling her roughly through the water, they moved towards the next rock, battling the current whilst Jaime attempted to keep his focus on the rider. He pulled his horse back but moved quickly in the direction of the nearest crossing further down river, his weapon drawn at the ready. On horse-back, at that speed, he'd be on the other side in no-time. The river bank was lower on this side thankfully, upon reaching it exhaustedly he elevated Cersei up first allowing her to claw her way on to the grassy verge to safety. She was coughing and spluttering profusely whilst he continued to battle the rapids. In order to help her out, he'd been pushed under water and taken in a lot of it.
"Jaime, grab my hand!" She spoke through shivers, unable to to yell through her shaking chest. On her hands and knees, she reached down as far as she could, their fingers only missing each other by a fraction but it was no use. The more he'd go under the less able he was to remain in the same place, the water dragging him away. She moved along with him down the bank, reaching for his hand every time her re-emerged. Her heart was beating so fast, she could hear it in her ears. His gasps disappearing over and over and over again as the water beat him down with such anger. He was fighting for his life, yes, but more than anything he was trying to get back to her before the Dothraki rider beat him to it. Her whole being stilled, that same sound of hooves assaulting the ground again. Growing closer and closer. She was panicked. Her lover still travelling down river and the threat moving closer to her. She got to her feet, her chest heaving breathlessly with cold and fear. Finally she saw him grasp on to an overhanging branch, his journey down river finally at an end as he pulled himself up onto the lower banking. Overcome with relief she began to move towards him but the rider approached, breaching the small hill between herself and her twin. Jaime was safe, she could see that much of him before stepping backwards and turning to run but the rider reached her within seconds. His foot coming out and striking her down as she tried to flee. The wind was knocked from her instantly as she hit the the ground. Her hand immediately reached for her stomach, attempting to get herself up again as she whimpered. His horse was snorting and grunting with exertion behind her, the white foamed sweat sticking to it's breast and underbelly. He began to circle her, laughing and grinning as she had nowhere to run to now. His braid long and swinging behind him as he taunted her. He revelled in her terror. Leaping from the black and daunting beast, he sheathed his weapon and tensed his thick and threatening arms. His mid-section was rippled with muscle and clear of hair. Her eyes nervously scanned his body before stealing a couple of quick glances at his face. His eyes were dark and empty, his beard thick, shiny and more luscious than any beard she'd witnessed in Westeros. Still trying to shuffle backwards away from him, he loomed over her purposely allowing her to continue moving away, but she was too afraid to turn her back on him.
"Lanat, anha allayafi me." He sneered, his voice rough and husky like he'd yelled too much all of his life. She had no idea the words he'd uttered but she knew it couldn't mean anything pleasant. He stepped over her, his feet planted on either side of her body as she carried on shuffling herself backwards. The very moment his hands reached for the strap around his waist, loosening his trousers she felt her blood run cold. Quicker than she'd set off to run at the first sight of him, she rolled on to her stomach, scrambling to get to her feet but he grabbed her lower leg, yanking her back roughly and causing her to yell out as he rolled her over to face him. He was on his knees now, her middle trapped between his legs, one hand pinning her down forcefully by the neck as the other tugged at his trousers still pulling himself out of them. She fought. Like a lioness, she fought. Her hands prying at the vice-like grip he had on her throat. Raising her knee high and quickly, she caught him where it hurts most for a man. He growled furiously, his palm releasing her delicate neck from it's grip before she clawed him across the face with a force she didn't know was in her. Rolling onto her front once more she scratched at the ground, trying to get herself up as she choked for air. Her fight had angered him now, initially it'd been exciting him but kneeing a man in the balls was not a a turn on, even for his rough taste. Just as she got to her feet he seized both of her ankles, pulling her down again. This time he had his full weight over her, his legs pinning her where she lay so that he could restrain her arms. The size of his palm was so large it could restrain both of her wrists at once, holding them down above her head. He touched his fingers to his cheek where she'd cut him with her strike, three slices into his skin. Blood as red as wine glistening on his fingertips. The more she tried to fight his dominance, the firmer his hold got until ultimately, with tears in her eyes, she stopped fighting. Her internal thoughts rushing to her aid as they used to when Robert would claim his rights with her every night. Hurting her every night.
I'll escape Westeros, start a new life in Pentos with only the ones I love. Me, Jaime and our baby. We're all that matters.
Her thoughts blackened and disappeared as her own distressed cry interrupted the art of escape she'd learned through past trauma. The tearing of her borrowed trousers rang through her ears before he thrust into her so roughly she was certain she'd bleed. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, grunting as he violently had his way with her. Her throat was burning with her own cries, one half of her face pushed into the grass the same way Robert would force her into the sheets of their royal bed. If she could endure that, she could endure this too. There was little difference between the experiences aside from one had lawfully been her husband.
Down the river, Jaime lay drifting between the worlds of the conscious and the unconscious. Laying on his back before suddenly he lunged to the side and expelled all the water his lungs had been forced to take in. Coughing for what felt like an eternity he rolled on to his hands and knees, steadily pulling himself up with the help of a tree.
"Cersei?!" He called hoarsely, choking out more water as he staggered in the direction he'd last seen her. "Cersei?!" Quickening his pace, he jogged between trees, using them for stability as his stance was still shaken. Soon enough, once he'd stopped choking he could hear the heart wrenching sounds of her current situation. There was no hesitation in his reaction. He sprinted. Faster than he'd ever moved before. The anguished mewls growing louder until finally he reached them. Before the Dothraki rider could even turn to face the source of the approaching noise, Jaime embedded his sword into his calf muscle with a fury tainted war cry. It went clean through, bone and all. That was the only place he could pierce the offender that wouldn't accidentally wound his sister beneath him.
"Yer're jin driv mahrazh!" His Dothraki tongue whipped angrily as he roared into the sky through the pain. A blood-curdling wail. Ceasing the brutal rape, he was upright and trying to dismount her when Jaime swung his sword with a strength mustered from pure hatred, taking his head clean off. He'd been half way to his feet until his beheading, causing his body to collapse and fall backwards into a heap whilst his head tumbled to Cersei's side. The spray of his warm blood spattered across the back of her shoulders, neck and head before she could even start to move away. It didn't take her long to retreat from his corpse seeking the comfort of her brother's touch. Her breath was finally returning to her lungs now that the entire weight of the foreigner was no longer compressing her rib cage. She covered herself with the tattered remains of the trousers, inching herself closer and closer to Jaime across the grass. He met her halfway, panting heavily before dropping to his knees once reaching her. She melted into him immediately, her face burying into his chest whilst her palms gripped desperately at the material covering his upper body. Her silent sobs were further muffled by the close contact. Instinctively, his arms enveloped her, pulling her into him securely. His chin rested atop her damp hair as they rocked slightly whilst his breath remained erratic from the intense rush of adrenaline. His eyes closed slowly with relief that it was over.
She was safe, in his arms.
