Chapter 8: Dream

Though Cersei was most definitely a Lannister, at that very moment, one could not be blamed for believing her to be a true Baratheon.

Ours is the Fury, indeed.

"Out! All of you, out!" The doors shut behind the servants as they nervously rushed away from their wrathful Queen, not wishing to attract her ire. Left in the room with me was Jaime, who was the Kingsguard accompanying me for the day. I swiftly compelled his silence, aware that this conversation was a long time coming. Cersei levelled her head in my direction, "Is it true?! Did you put that wretched dwarf on the Small Council?"

I frowned, still putting up an innocent act, "You mean Uncle Tyrion?" She nodded, "Of course I did."

"He killed your brother!" she raged. "And you would give him a seat on the Small Council!?"

I shook my head, "Not according to the gods, if the results of the trial by combat are anything to go by."

Cersei scoffed at me, "The Gods! Pox on the Gods. Just because one man was more lucky in combat than another does not prove anything."

I quirked an eyebrow, "Somehow, I don't think you would say the same thing if Ser Gregor had won that bout."

Cersei's eyes looked into mine as she purposefully softened her expression, lowering herself so that she was at the same eye-level as me, her skirts pooling on the floor as she crouched, "I know you love your Uncle, Sweetling, but he killed your brother. That vile, treacherous little Imp is not to be trusted."

I nodded, "And I would agree with you. Had he killed my brother, then of course he could not be trusted." It was my turn to look into Cersei's eyes, "As it is, he did not kill Joffrey, and so he can be trusted."

The same ugly snarl appeared on her face, and she stood, her fingernails grazing my cheek as she pulled away, though her tone became sickly sweet, "Oh, is that so? And pray tell, then who did kill my son?"

I smiled, "Why, I thought it obvious? Do you really not know?"

She seemed frustrated with my defiance, "Who?"

"Littlefinger, of course."

She shook her head, "You can't know that. I was there, sweetling, when the Imp made his threats. Threats against you, against Joffrey, all for that... for that whore. He threatened his family for a whore. How can you trust such a man?"

"Easily, when he is family. And it is hardly as if Joffrey was much better, really. Not with the way he treated Sansa and behaved like a tyrant. Frankly, even if Tyrion did kill him, I still would have pardon-"

She slapped me. Hard, across the face, tears stinging her eyes. She did it again. And again, "He was your brother! Your brother!"

I let any hint of mirth slip off my face entirely, "No, he wasn't. He was your firstborn, I'll grant. Related to me by blood, to be sure, but he was no brother of mine and nor was I any little brother of his. Brothers are supposed to care, to protect each other. He hurt me, abused me whilst you turned a blind eye. Frankly, I'm glad he's dead, and I'd wager most of the rest of the realm is too."

She blinked in realisation, looking at me with a blank stare. Soon, she snapped out of it and shook her head, "I... you're wrong. Tyrion isn't trustworthy. He'll hurt you, sweetling. Betray you."

"No, he won't," I insisted.

"You can't know that."

I did my best to feign discomfort, "I can."

She looked at me with scorn emerging once again into her features at my obstinance, "Oh? And how is that?"

Excellent, she had sprung my trap card. I considered sending Jaime away, but on the off chance that the two got together later, it wasn't a risk I could afford to take. If this particular manipulation was going to work, I would have to convince both twins, not just Cersei. I leaned back in my chair and sighed, feigning a world-weariness that I only partially possessed, "Because... because of my dreams."

Jaime, who had till now been silent, had a concerned look on his face, "Dreams, Your Grace?"

"More like visions, to be honest. I've had them since I was young, and I didn't know what to make of them, and yet, everything I saw, it all came true. Bran falling, or rather being pushed, from the tower, Ned's execution, Tyrion's capture and subsequent escape."

Cersei looked at me as though I was mad, and scoffed. I looked at Cersei, and I decided to take a bit of a gamble, looking at Jaime instead, "Burn them all. Do your remember that, Uncle? I want him dead, the traitor. I want his head, or you'll burn with all the rest. All the traitors."

Jaime paled, his mouth agape, unable to understand what he was hearing, "But... how? Nobody alive knows what he said to me. Not those words, at least. How..."

Cersei sighted Jaime's shock, "Jaime?"

I turned to look at Cersei instead, "Gold shall be their crowns and gold shall be their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands around your pale white throat and choke the life from you." Now it was Cersei's turn to pale, though she stayed silent, "For all these years, you placed more faith in the words of a mad witch than those of your own family, and in doing so, you became your own worst enemy. Not to mention, Tyrion wasn't the only valonqar at that wedding, was he?"

She reared back at my words, and shook her head in denial, "No... It can't be... Not you..."

I was eager to put any silly notions she may be having to bed, "You can relax. I didn't kill Joffrey, for accursed is the kinslayer. I just didn't... remember, that he would die till it was too late." She shot me a suspicious look, "As a babe, I have seen the Dance of the Dragons, the age of Heroes, the coming of the Andals. I have lived a thousand years in my sleep, and I have seen thousands of Kings. Joffrey's reign made the reign of the Mad King look like that of Jaehaerys the Conciliator." I feigned a shudder, "The things he would do... they do not bear speaking. And with the image of Westeros ablaze in my mind, of Dragons in the skies once more, of blood filling the rivers instead of water, of a winter that never ends, can you honestly blame me for letting a measly poisoning slip my mind?"

Cersei gathered herself back up together, and looked at me with damp, conflicted eyes, conveying the pity, concern and anger she felt towards me in that moment. Making a snap decision, she placed her hand back on my cheek, "Why didn't you tell me? About these dreams?"

I gently freed myself from her grasp, "You would have thought me mad. And, in truth, till relatively recently I thought the dreams to be some product of a twisted imagination, not actual prescience. I mean, what child wants to believe that his own Uncle is his father?" Cersei flinched and Jaime shot me a look, but neither of them made any attempt to deny it, "I was content to sit in the corner of the Red Keep playing with Myrcella. As it is, I must now sit in that blasted metal chair, and it falls to me to face the crises that will come. If I'm to have any hope of success, I will need all the help I can get, and Tyrion is a key part of that."

"And these same dreams tell you Tyrion is innocent?" I nodded, and realisation flashed across her face. Cersei looked at me through narrowed eyes, "Myrcella's wedding announcement, the Tyrell ships with their gold. Those were no ordinary attempts to curry favour, were they?"

I looked around, listening for the patter of little feet, only to find silence. That wasn't to say that Varys wasn't listening, but given the sudden nature of this encounter, I could only hope. I looked at her with a smile on my face, "No, they were not. If we are to survive, we need both the Reach and Dorne on our side, and Tyrion's trial presented the perfect opportunity needed to secure that loyalty. The Lannister armies may be strong, but alone they are no match for what's coming. We will need our allies, if we are to survive." I shrugged, "The Mountain was a small price to pay for that."

Jaime looked at me with a curious look on his face, "And what is coming, Your Grace?"

"War is coming, Uncle. War. What you have fought, what you have experienced... it is nothing compared to what lurks around the horizon. Nothing, you hear me? Denys dreamed of the Doom of Old Valyria, and I dream of the Doom of Westeros." I looked out the window, speaking in a low, desperate whisper, the two of them listening with rapt attention, "Sometimes... sometimes the urge strikes me, to give up. To climb to the tallest tower in the keep, open the window, and to just... fly, like Bran did." I rubbed the bridge of my nose, as if plagued by some great burden, "I've seen your corpses, did you know that? All of you. They haunt me in my dreams. It all seems so utterly, hopelessly inevitable." I clenched my fist till the knuckles turned white, my face drawn in determination, "And yet if I chart the right course, tread the right path, I know I will be able to prevent it. To save my kingdom, my people, my... my family."

A lone tear slipped from reddened eyes, and internally I could hear the imaginary audience applaud at my masterful performance. If nothing else, it seemed sufficient to get the two of them to believe in, which is all I really needed.

Jaime gulped, "I... I see."

I sighed, letting all tension slip from my form, "But that is all in the future. We have more immediate problems. Baelish wasn't the only traitor, and as it is, I will need to conduct a purge of the Small Council to stand any chance of keeping the peace. The Kingsguard too. When the politically opportune moment comes for the blood to flow, we need to present a united front. The King needs to be seen to have the full support of his family. Do I have that support?"

Cersei gave me a tight nod after only a moment of thought, and said, "Always, Tommen. Always."

Jaime looked at me with something that approached reverence in his eyes, "Of course, Your Grace."

I turned my gaze to my uncle, "Jaime, could you please go and have one of the maids fetch Tyrion for me?" Just as he was making to leave, I interrupted him, "Oh, and Jaime?"

"Yes, Your Grace?"

"Needless to say that you will speak to nobody about the things you have heard today. Nobody." I turned to look at Cersei, injecting some steel into my tone, "I am trusting you two with this, and only you two. Nobody else is to know."

He nodded and left the chambers, and Cersei said, "Why are you having him summoned here?"

I looked her in the eyes, my gaze unfaltering, "To settle the matter of this petty rivalry between the two of you. You were so distracted with your hatred of each other, that you failed to spot the real danger, sat just a few scant seats away from you the entire time. That rivalry was ultimately what got Joffrey killed, by allowing a plotter like Baelish to escape notice. I will not allow the same kind of infighting to undermine my reign, and to endanger my person. As such, I expect you to apologise to him when he arrives."

Cersei looked outraged, "To that Imp!" She spat the word as though it were poison, "Never!"

I met her fiery gaze head-on, speaking in a cool monotone deliberately reminiscent of Tywin, "You will apologize, or you will be shipped off to Casterly Rock, do you hear me? Those are the only choices you have. You are my mother, and I love you, but my very life hangs in the balance, and I'll not risk it for the sake of your pride. I won't end up like Joffrey."

I kept my gaze focused on hers till she eventually quailed, leaving the air still with a stubborn silence. When Tyrion arrived a few minutes later, he came in with a grin, one which quickly fell off his face as he saw Cersei, "Your Grace?"

I turned and looked at Cersei, and then back at Tyrion, "My mother has something to say to you, Uncle." Cersei stayed silent, and I allowed a threatening quality to bleed into my tone, "Don't you, Mother?"

She gave a sort of strangled growl, and then bowed her head, her speech emerging from her lips stiff and stilted, "Yes, I..." she shot me a look, "apologise. I shouldn't have tried to have you executed."

Tyrion looked legitimately stunned. He looked at Cersei as though she had grown a second head, and then back at me, and then back at Cersei again. Eventually he overcame his shock, clumsily accepting the apology, "Ah... I see."

"And Tyrion, don't you have an apology to make to my mother?" He looked at me quizzically, and I clarified my words, "For threatening her."

He nodded, and though the words came out of his mouth more smoothly then they came out of Cersei's, they still bore an uncomfortable quality to them, "Well... of course. I am sorry. For threatening you."

"Well, that wasn't awkward in the slightest, was it?" I clapped my hands together loudly, shattering the tension hanging in the air between the two, "Now, with that over and done with, I must leave. I have kingdoms to conquer, debts to repay, disputes to settle and a realm to rule. There is so much work to be done, and so little time to do it in!"

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Hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. Not quite happy with the way this one came out. May be subject to rewrite.