Author's note: Thank you to the lovely people who reviewed. The 9th and final chapter to this story will be up next week.

Cersei woke up to the sound of horses snorting and stamping, bridles jingling, men's voices calling out to hounds. Father must be going hunting, she thought. Good. Without him around, I may get a chance to see Jaime. On this, my last day.

She got out of bed and went to the window. It was situated high up in her wall, she had to jump to reach it. The narrow width meant she didn't have to worry about falling out, because it was an effort to even squeeze herself through sideways.

She wriggled her bottom onto the sill and looked out. Early morning mist rose off the trees and the castle walls. Directly below her window, bay, roan and chestnut horses milled about like a tapestry sewn in shades of brown. Dogs darted between them, whining and yapping, their tails waving like flags.

Despite scanning the courtyard as far as her position allowed, Cersei couldn't see Father's white charger amongst them. Maybe he's staying home to keep an eye on me, after all.

The smell of the earth and the sea, crushed grass and horse sweat and leather. She breathed it all into her lungs, savoured it.

A horn sounded, blown by the HuntMaster. Then from around the corner trotted Father on his war-horse, resplendent in chain mail engraved with lions on his shoulder, and a red sash that draped to his stirrups. Cersei caught her breath - because there beside him rode Jaime on a spirited black horse. He was wearing a belted tunic with lion emblems on the neck, and his hair fell in his face. The strands gleamed white-gold in the sun. Under his fringe, his expression looked like he was concentrating very hard to do everything right.

The two of them halted in front of the men and the HuntMaster bowed his head and said to each in turn: 'M'Lord Tywin. M'Lord Jaime.'

Jaime nodded back.

Tywin began to speak, laying out the objectives of the hunt and each participant's roles and duties, his voice ringing out authoratively. But Cersei wasn't listening. She had eyes only for her brother. The black horse was acting skittish; maybe it was its first hunt or maybe it was just of a fiery temperament, but whatever the reason, it sidled and jogged on the spot, tossing its head up and down. Jaime sat quietly in the saddle, one hand firm on the reins to prevent the restless horse from taking off, and the other hand stroking down its shoulder to soothe it.

Cersei hoped he may sense her gaze and look up, but he didn't. He was preoccupied with listening to Father's instructions, and controlling his mount. The speech over, the HuntMaster blew the horn once more, and the horses and riders streamed out of the gate and across the hill. Cersei watched them go until the last hoof beat had faded.

Then she leapt off her sill and ran to get dressed.

Septa came to get her as usual, but instead of eating breakfast upstairs as they'd done the last few days, they went down to the dining room. Cersei hoped at least to see Tyrion, because she wanted to talk to him again about Jaime, but the only other people in the room were waiting-staff and cupbearers. They ate in silence, Cersei's mind whirring. There has to be a way to talk to Jaime today.

After breakfast, Septa took her back upstairs to her languages tutor. Cersei repeated all the phrases back to him by rote, aware the whole lesson that time was passing. Dancing practise was next, and she stepped and spun exactly as instructed, while the minutes ticked into hours.

It was midday. The dining room was set only for her and Septa again. This time, she refused to sit down. 'Where's Tyrion?' she asked, crossly. 'Doesn't he eat here any more?'

'He's up in the nursery, with Nanny,' Septa said. 'They ate earlier.'

'Why can't I eat with at least one of my siblings? Do I have the pox?'

Septa pulled the same face she always did when Cersei complained. A mixture of resignation and sympathy.

'I don't feel well,' Cersei said, aggrieved. 'I need to lie down.'

She lay on her bed, staring unseeing at the ceiling. More than half the day gone. She'd unpicked her corset stays but still had a constricting tightness in her chest. She felt like the last hours of her life were trickling away from her and she couldn't stop them.

At the sound of horse shoes clinking on stone, she raced to the window. She peered down to see the hunt returning, led by the pack of hounds who's lolling tongues told of their weary satisfaction. Jaime rode up in front of the men with Father and the HuntMaster, and in contrast to the seriousness of his demeanor when he'd left that morning, now he was beaming a wide smile. Across his cheeks dark smears of some animal's blood marked him, and when one of the men made a joke, Jaime's teeth flashed and his laugh drifted across the yard.

Cersei loved Jaime's laugh, but hearing it today made acid fill her mouth. Look at him. Blooded and triumphant, she thought. The sight of Jaime's happiness made her own misery all the more acute.

Jaime's horse still pranced and spooked, even streaked with sweat. Nearing the castle it shied sideways at a small figure who came dashing out of the gardens, chattering with excitement. Cersei's eyes squinted as she watched Jaime rein around into a circle, then jump down and lift his younger brother into the air. Tyrion clapped his hands and squeaked as he was placed carefully in the saddle.

If only he would fall off! If the gods are just, if they are fair, then the dwarf who killed our mother will be thrown to the cobblestones now and split his oversize skull open. But of course the gods ignored Cersei's prayers as usual, and Jaime guided his brother's hand to pat the black horse's arched neck until it calmed down.

Father rode up to the two boys. It really must have been a good hunt, because instead of reprimanding Jaime for putting Tyrion up there, he seemed almost amused at the incongruous sight of his squat son balanced atop the elegant animal, like a wart on a Lady's nose. Father in a tolerant mood was a very rare occurrence, but Cersei could see the three of them were enjoying the moment. To her further chagrin, Jaime then vaulted up behind Tyrion and together he, Father and Tyrion led the rest of the huntsmen around to the Lion's Mouth entrance, where grooms and courtiers were no doubt waiting to congratulate them. Between Jaime's arms, the dwarf had a look on his face as if all his name-days had come at once.

Cersei stared after them as they left, until the joyous sounds of a successful Lannister hunt had completely vanished. Then she slowly lowered herself down off the windowsill. She went back to her bed and slumped across it. There was no pretence, she really did feel quite sick.

It was late afternoon when Septa pronounced the stitching in her needlepoint as adequate. Cersei put the material on the table in the study and studied her fingers. Pinholes of red dotted their tips, where the needle had slipped. I'm blooded too, Jaime, she thought. Only no-one gives a damn about me.

'You've done very well. You may relax and go for a walk,' Septa said with a smile. 'There are refreshments in the upstairs conservatory, if you want.'

'May I go for a walk outside?' Cersei asked.

'No, you know that's not allowed today.'

'Downstairs?'

'No, dear.' Septa sat there with her hands in her lap, her eyes regarding Cersei with kind pity. Cersei had a vision of standing up, walking over to the older woman and stabbing her embroidery needles right into those pitying eyes, bursting them. Then using the points of the needles like a crow's beak she would pluck the eyes right out of her withered old head. The vision was so realistic that Cersei almost believed she'd done it, and looked at her hands to make sure they weren't covered in blood.

'May I at least see my brother before I retire to bed?' she said quietly.

'You know that Lord Tywin has expressly forbidden contact between you and Jaime -'

'Tyrion!' Cersei gritted out. 'Not Jaime. I want to see Tyrion.'

Septa sighed, and then nodded.

Tyrion was on the floor of his nursery when she entered, pushing a small army of wooden horses and soldiers into formations. At Nanny's greeting of Cersei, he gave a piercing shriek, leapt to his feet and ran over. He cavorted around and around them in dizzy circles until Nanny left the room to talk to Septa outside, and he was alone with his big sister.

Grabbing her hand in his little paw, he dragged her over to his carefully arranged figurines. She detached herself, wiped her hand on her skirt, and knelt down beside him.

'What are you playing, Tyrry? Are these soldiers going into battle?'

'Going hunting,' Tyrion explained, concentrating. He held up a figure on horseback, then another. 'This one Jimi. This one me. This one...' he reached into the pack of figurines and held up a dragon-like monster with jaws agape, '... Father.'

'Which one is me?' Cersei asked.

Tyrion looked all around himself as if puzzled. 'Sisi not here.' He pointed to the far end of the nursery where in a dark, cobwebby corner, crates and boxes were stacked in a tower. 'Sisi up there.'

'What am I doing up there?' Cersei said, annoyed.

Tyrion's mouth turned down and he shrugged. 'Girl stuff.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'Did you go hunting with Jaime today?'

'Yes. Jimi put me on horse. Tyrry ride horse!'

'Then what did you do?'

'Tyrry ride horse! Gallop, gallop, gallop!' He sprang to his short legs and skipped around the room as if riding a horse. He made a horse- snorting sound and then turned and skipped back the other way.

'I mean, after that. What did you and Jaime do?'

'Gallop, gallop, gallop!' He neighed and shook his head, pawing the wooden floor.

'Tyrion!' Cersei hissed.

He finally stopped and sat down again, puffing.

'What did you do afterwards?'

'Jimi and me did training for dogs. Trained Stripy,' he said with pride.

'You played with the dog?'

'Stripy can stay now. Jimi teach. Stay Stripy, stay! Nooo, nooo. Stay!' Tyrion's mimicking of Jaime's voice was uncannily accurate. Cersei could picture the scene clear as if she'd been there; Jaime repeating the commands to the puppy in a firm voice, then rewarding it with a scratch and a cuddle. Jaime loved animals and they responded well to anything he wanted to teach them. Cersei knew that in a month or so, Jaime would have that mutt balancing food on its nose and walking backwards.

Everyone loves Jaime.

'I'm going away tomorrow. Do you know that, Tyrry?'

'Yes. Sisi go away.' Tyrion's face suddenly crumpled and tears welled up. 'Tyryy miss Sisi! Not want Sisi to go!' He balled up his fists and rubbed them fiercely into his eyes.

Cersei waited impatiently for him to quit blubbering. 'I need you to give Jaime something. Because I can't. I'm not allowed to see Jaime, so can you...' Cersei pulled a folded piece of parchment from her skirt and handed it to her brother. 'Can you give this to him?'

Tyrion stared at her glassily through wet eyes. 'For Tyrry?'

'No! Not for Tyrry,' she said. 'For Jaime. Give it to Jaime. Alright?'

Tyrry nodded, sniffed. He wiped a hand under his nose and Cersei looked away, disgusted. Finally he took the proffered note out of her hand and started to unfold it.

'Don't do that, stupid! It's for Jaime. You can't read it,' she snapped.

'Tyrry can read good. Not stupid.'

'Do. Not. Read. It.' Cersei scowled, emphasising each word by poking her finger into his chest. Tyrion looked nervous. Clutched the note in his fist.

Cersei stood up, brushed off her skirt and walked across the room. As she reached for the door handle, Tyrion scampered after her and blocked her way. 'I miss you Sisi,' he said mournfully. 'When go. Sad for Sisi.'

She stared at him for a long moment. 'Make sure Jaime gets my note,' she said. Then she pushed past and went out of the room without looking back.

Father was leaving her room just as she arrived with Septa, along with a workman of some sort in a dusty apron. Cersei paused in the doorway, next to the guard who was stationed outside. She looked over to her window. The daylight coming in through the opening was striped from the newly-installed iron bars.

'Why...?' she exclaimed, despair catching her throat.

'Safety,' Father said.

'But it's too high for anyone to... ' she couldn't finish, as all hope for meeting Jaime tonight ran out of her like the last grains in an hour-glass.

'Well, perhaps it will stop sand from the beach blowing into your room,' Father said. 'I found quite a quantity of it under your window sill today. And in your sheets.' He raised one eyebrow while she struggled to keep her expression from betraying her. 'Curious how the winds work around here. Isn't it?'

She didn't reply. What was there to say?

'I will see you at dawn,' Father said. 'I expect you to be dressed and ready.' Then, he left.

Outside Cersei's window, the sunlight began to tint orange. Later, she ate supper with Septa upstairs, tasting nothing. Then she was escorted to her room again, the door locked. The last day ended as it had begun, with her alone.

It was late at night, so late even the crickets and night insects had hushed. Moon-light slivering in through the window bars and slanting across her floor. A tiny flick of sound, so indistinct she almost thought she'd dreamt it. But when she turned her head, there was a black speck lying on the rectangle of light cast by the moon. Cersei sat up, swung her feet out of bed. Padded over and picked up the pebble, rolling its smooth coolness in her hand.

At the window she hoisted herself up. The bars were cold on her palms as she gripped them, pressing her face to their curves. The air outside sharp as frost.

Below in the courtyard stood Jaime, dressed only in a white night shirt and underwear. He had his arm bent back to throw another pebble, but when he saw her face in the window he stopped. She stared at him and he stared at her and in the colourless light he looked dipped in silver.

'Jaime,' she whispered. Held out her hand, through the bars, her fingers spread. On the moon-lit ground below, her hand's shadow almost touched him.

'Cersei', he mouthed, held out his hand.

Then he put his fingers to his mouth and kissed them. In his other hand, he had her letter clasped to his chest. He smoothed it out and lifted it to his eyes, and she watched his lips move as he read it to her silently, although it being so short she knew all the words. 'Meet me at the beach again after supper. I need you. I love you. Forever, Cersei.'

Jaime re-folded the letter and pressed it to his heart.

Then as Cersei watched, he slowly walked around the side of the castle wall and disappeared into the blackness.

It felt like time froze and she sat there for an eternity. Tears pricking like ice on her cheeks.