Chapter 21

I was trying to regather myself after I retreated from my mother's room, but I could admit I was shaken.

The world felt like it had fallen out from underneath me, and I didn't know what to do with the information my mother shared with me. A new baby was meant to be a joyous occasion, yet Mama Jo might as well have told me she had cancer. It was going to be terminal, with only nine months left to live.

Her potential death was something I was aware of, another dead mother in the long line of them etched into the story George had crafted.

Except Joanna's was just a bit more important than others as it would shape the Lannister family, or scar them, irrevocably.

My thoughts on George RR Martin were one of respect, reading his books and stories and watching him imagine an entire world into existence one line at a time.

People could call him lazy and slow, or no longer interested in his own works with how long it was taking for him to continue, but none could deny what he had crafted.

Now, though…

I couldn't help but hate the man, even irrational as I knew my feelings were.

Joanna Lannister was not any true character in the books, her only impact on the story being her death decades ago that serves to explain why Tywin was the way he was and Tyrion had the hellish upbringing he did.

Other than that, it made little mention of the woman herself.

She was a mother to her children and how she involved herself in their affairs instead of the medieval distant parent I was expecting of her.

In theory, I knew this was a moment long coming.

It was why I put so much effort into my waterbending healing, after all. Yet now that the deadline had become so much more real and tangible instead of some nebulous future thing, I found myself more terrified than I could have imagined.

And unprepared.

Like a test I had utterly forgotten about suddenly sneaking up on me.

Except in this situation, it was not merely a bad grade on the line here but something infinitely more precious to me.

Fuck. I had long resolved myself to do everything I could to prevent her death, but my confidence was teetering.

It was one of those events that I thought when the time finally arrived, the Cersei of then would be confident, and more than ready to face the trial to come. Except that moment was now on the distant horizon, and the confidence and skills I optimistically hoped to possess were nowhere to be seen.

I needed more experience.

A lot more experience.

Could I volunteer or something, perhaps?

Fuck.

Should I hurt myself and try healing that?

As soon as the thought rose up, I stopped in my pacing to think it over.

I mean… Experience was experience wasn't it…? No, no. I was too squeamish of pain, a weakness carried over from my past life, in all honesty. Enduring the hardship of hard and strenuous work was one thing, enduring pain for pain's sake was another. For fuck's sake, I couldn't even muster the will and courage to prick myself with a needle.

It doesn't have to be you, my train of thought bulled ahead. Lanna could do it.

Nope, nope, nope. Definitely not making Lanna do it since even with my weird sensibilities and quirks, it would be both too much and equally too fucked up to make a child hurt another child.

What other options did I have?

Volunteering? Could I moonlight as a magical healer or something? The nature of this medieval world meant no lack of people needing healing in one way or another. The healing of physical trauma to various extents was well within the theoretical limits of my abilities.

The problem was opportunity. Perhaps this idea might have viable if I was some smallfolk girl living in Lannisport, but I wasn't.

I was a lady, and not a lowly one either. What was I supposed to do? Make my way into the deepest bowels of Casterly Rock and go up to the miners and demand any injuries be brought before me so that I may tend to them?

It was an idea, certainly… But my secret would be out.

I bit my lip as I deliberated over the idea. Was I prepared for that step? A secret once loosed cannot be forced back into the quiver.

Varys wasn't in play, at least in Westeros that was, so I didn't have to worry about being stabbed to death by mute children anytime soon. Not to mention, whatever irons in the fire Aerys' might have had would likely have been derailed by his injuries.

Still, the feelings in my chest told it clearly.

Hesitance.

Yet, why was I so hesitant? Fear maybe? That with this potential knowledge in the open, everything would change. Mama Jo would accept me, that I had no doubts either, but the matter was Tywin.

I was still so young and, but for my bending, powerless against the patriarch and lord of the household. I had hoped that when I debuted, I would be older and far more powerful, so he would not be able to simply dictate terms to me. In my wildest fantasies, I was even a fully realized Avatar with the Avatar State mastered and under my belt.

I… Possibly. I didn't know.

What other options did I hav–

"Cersei?" The word cutting through my thoughts, causing me to turn to its source.

It was Rhaegar, who also seemed a bit taken aback by my appearance.

Rude. Look, I was just a bit ruffled, that was all.

"Ah," I patted down my dress with as much decorum as I could muster, stalling to try to bring my thoughts into some semblance of order. Rhaegar was nice enough to not say anything. "Hey Rhaegar. What brings you here?"

"Here is where I live, Cersei." He replied with barely hidden amusement tinging his words.

Discreetly, I looked around my surroundings to see just where I had ended up. Being more focused on my thoughts rather than any destination, I just let my feet take me wherever, since I wasn't prepared to face Lanna and Jaime just after departing from Mama Jo's room.

Not far from where I stood lay Maegor's Holdfast.

Where Rhaegar does indeed live.

Awkward. I could even see the drawbridge entrance not far.

"Is something amiss?" He spoke, while his gaze assessed me and concern evident. "What troubles you?"

"It is nothing to worry about," I say calmly, all while pushing back my true feelings and thoughts. "I merely received some joyful news."

"Joyful news, you claim," Rhaegar parroted my words, skepticism clear, before pointing out. "Your hands are bleeding."

I blink and instinctively bring said hands to my attention.

Oh.

I hadn't noticed anything, but it was clear that I had clenched my fists so tightly that my nails drew blood. Not much as they barely broke skin, but blood nonetheless with its little red smears dotting my palm.

My instinctive reaction was to wipe them on my pants and pretend this never happened.

Then I realized I was a girl in medieval times and I didn't get to wear pants except for specific occasions like horse riding.

Oh dear, blood on my dress wasn't something Mama Jo was going to be happy about. And it looks like I'll be further troubling the washerwoman in charge of laundering my clothes.

I don't have a convenient window that opens into the sea, so it can't go the way of my old shoes.

Shall I just burn it?

Ugh. I just closed my fist again.

"Thanks for informing me." I say as straight-faced as possible. "I'll be sure to take care of it."

"Of course," Rhaegar says with a nod, but he asks curiously. "May I ask what news distresses you so?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should broach the subject.

But well, there was an earnestness to his words. By every account, he didn't exactly need to speak with me. He was a prince and I a little child, but he was still willing to reach out.

"Mother is with child," The silence drew on, but I finally admitted it before the air shifted to awkward. Saying the words aloud solidified the tangled ball of nerves in my stomach.

"And why does that distress you?" Rhaegar questions. "Do you fear your mother will love you any less with the birth of a younger sibling?"

"No, not that." I reply immediately to deny his words. I wasn't that petty, and Mama Jo wasn't that shallow of a mother. "I merely worry for her health, is all."

Understanding glimmered in his eyes and I could see the boy shuffling a bit, but I couldn't help but find amusement in his reaction.

The teenage boy was probably thinking I was worried over something silly and ultimately worthless. Perhaps I lost my doll or was scolded by my parents or other such nonsense.

I was curious to see where he would go from here.

"I am sure Lady Joanna will overcome this." He finally says. "Your mother is young, hale, and hearty, and has already delivered you and your brother once."

Not bad.

"It is my dearest hope that your words prove prophetic." I reply to him tiredly. "But childbirth is a most unpredictable thing."

And wasn't that the case? Seriously, fuck childbirth in medieval times.

A look of… Sadness or understanding flickered across Rhaegar's expression.

Honestly, this kid works that sad boi aura. What a dangerous kid.

"Your wit is truly a curse at times," He spoke after a moment.

Nah, I'm just an imposter. A cheating cheater. A fake child. Someone smurfing in low ELO.

"Like you say. The birthing bed is a battle all mothers face and like any battles, some don't risk returning."

Gee, thanks.

Yet Rhaegar wasn't done with his words yet. "I worry about mine own mother as well." He confessed to me.

Oh.

Rhaella's pregnant and had her own challenges to face, but I had completely dismissed the woman from my mind simply because I knew from canon that she would be fine even though the baby wouldn't last long if his name wasn't Viserys.

But Rhaegar had no safety net. Every pregnancy, and boy has Rhaella gone through quite a many of those since Rhaegar's own, was each a terrifying unknown to him.

The boy standing before me doesn't have the safety blanket of future knowledge.

I guess I was being a teensy bit selfish.

"In the end… All we can do is hope and pray."

Well, I sure as heck wasn't leaving it to just that, but I didn't know what else to say.

"Thank you, Rhaegar." I say with a smile. It was nice of him to at least attempt to comfort a child, even if I didn't feel much better.

"It was of no matter." He replies. "Is this the reason why Lady Joanna will be departing King's Landing?"

"Most likely," I confirm. "Father wishes us to be back before winter sets and would prefer mother weather her condition in the comforts and safety of Casterly Rock."

"Do you know when you'll be leaving?"

"Likely in the next fortnight." I answer.

"So soon… But I understand the reason for haste. A shame that, I've grown to enjoy your brother's presence in the mornings. Would you not say so as well, Arthur?"

Arthur Dayne nodded.

A man of few words. He gave a small smile. "The White Bull might be hard on the lad but he respects Jaime's efforts."

I grinned. "Be sure to tell that to my brother directly. He does not yet know we'll be leaving soon, but your words will liven up his spirit."

"I will be sure to do so, Lady Cersei." He affirmed with a nod.

"Do you think you'll be returning anytime soon?" Rhaegar followed up.

Oh yeah, most definitely. According to fanon, there's a Valyrian steel sword waiting in the Dragonpit for me which has Jaime's name on it. There's no way I'll be able to get it for him before his knighthood, but either way, it's only proper my knight possesses a magic sword.

It's no space sword and not to mention that's already being wielded by the Kingsguard in front of me, but a sword forged from the flames of dragons and quenched in blood sorcery is a close enough second.

"That is not up to I," I answer wryly, "yet I have a feeling our paths will likely cross again."

If Tywin had his way, it would be in a sept of the Seven and a septon presiding and declaring us one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.

"With hope, your next time, you'll be able to enjoy the splendour of King's Landing."

"With hope indeed," I say as if it weren't my fault that this trip happened the way it did. "I must be off, Rhaegar. Any longer and I fear my brother and handmaid shall worry."

"Go in peace," He paused for a second, "and if we don't meet again, feel free to send me letters."

I blinked at that as introvert habits from a past life reared up in force.

Totally man, we should totally catch up or hang out more!

While I wanted to do nothing besides sit in front of my computer.

A person only has so much capacity in their social batteries, and mine were well degraded.

"I'll be glad too," I absolutely lied through my teeth. "Good day, Rhaegar, Ser Arthur." I curtsied and fled.

What's the medieval equivalent of I thought I sent the text, but looks like I forgot to press the send button.

I swear I sent that letter, but the raven must have gotten lost! Or maybe it was hunted by a hawk! Oh, how unfortunate. But I definitely sent the letter.

Yup.

That works.

Our departure from the capital of the Seven Kingdoms finally happened on a clear day and not a cloud in the sky. There was no feast or party, or any other kind of disruption of the day-to-day activities the Red Keep saw.

And with the King in his current condition, we didn't need to meet him for a by your leave, for which we were all no doubt thankful for.

"On the road again~" I sang as my upper body poked outside the wheelhouse window. "Just can't wait to get on the road again~"

Unfortunately, I had to resort to humming the tune of the song, as I didn't know the rest of the lyrics. Still, my not knowing the rest of the song didn't damper my relief in the slightest, for we were finally leaving King's Landing behind.

Trips and vacations are fun and all, but something about them was exhausting at times, which made me long for the comforts of home.

Perhaps if the events that transpired in King's Landing didn't happen, I would have enjoyed King's Landing more, but with the ways things did…

The saying may you live in interesting times truly is a curse for the ages.

Aerys, Rhaegar, and Bloodraven. Man, these Targaryens really were more trouble than they were worth.

Well, Rhaegar's cool. Hope his head stays screwed on tight because I'll be miffed if he somehow fucks everything over again.

Regardless, it didn't change the fact that I was glad to finally have it all behind me.

Though there was no doubt that there would be ripples from my actions.

Looks like there will yet be many more interesting times ahead of me.

As I watched our little column trundle along the Gold Road, I hoped that the feeling of the homeward-bound journey feeling like it passes much faster than the initial outbound journey was true because I was not looking forward to weeks and weeks of this.

…

…

…

Halfway through the trek, I was once again running a rather high and potentially life-threatening case of cabin fever, hoping something exciting would happen to just break the monotony of day-to-day life.

I could see why canon Cersei bitched so hard about going North to Winterfell at the beginning of the first book. That journey would have taken even longer, and imagine the difficulty that was driving a wheelhouse through the Neck and the snows of the North. The wet Riverlands probably wasn't an enjoyable ride either.

At least the Gold Road was purely in the South, so the conditions were better.

Still didn't stop me from complaining.

At this point, I was hoping for a bandit attack, which I knew was a fucked up thing.

But then there could be moments of coolness, you know?

Forgive me, mother, I must show my true strength.

HA!

Of course, that was just my chuuni speaking, but can anyone really blame me for it?

No, no they cannot, of course. In fact, calling me chuuni would be incorrect anyway. Why? Because I actually have fucking superpowers.

Checkmate losers. Back off before I unseal my eye patch that is, in reality, a holy seal that actively suppresses ninety-nine point nine nine percent of my actual powers.

This is what I have been reduced to. Dreaming of scenarios where I can heroically save everyone.

I'm not even in middle school age yet and my chuuni syndrome is already getting out of hand.

The fact that bandits are opportunistic bottom-feeders made me aware that there was utterly no chance they would attack the fully armed and escorted column we were in. Furthermore, this column carried the Lady of Casterly Rock and her children and heirs.

So no, their choice of prey was much farther lower down on the totem pole.

As if mocking my thoughts, a single long and low blast from a horn sounded in the distance, causing me to jerk up from my lazing laid-back position.

What in the fuck?

"That was our freerider scouts," Jaime said suddenly, voice thick with tension. I could see his eyes darting around the interior of our enclosure – hastily seeking a weapon perhaps?

Wait wait wait wait wait. I take it back. I was kidding. Undo! Refund! Control + z!

Lanna was a bit wide-eyed and was clutching a full waterskin.

This had to be a mistake, right…? It was one thing for bandits to attack merchants or waylay small groups, but to attempt this would be suicide? This wasn't the Vale of Arryn where we had to deal with mountain clansmen with a culturally ingrained hatred of us.

I watched as Men-at-arms and knights formed a perimeter as I peeked outside the shutters of our wheelhouse.

Another knight, the captain Mama Jo often spoke with, was bellowing orders to try to wrangle order from chaos.

"Ser Wyll, ride to the fore and find out who blew the horn!" He roared.

The attendants and servants were all clearly panicking though and trying to crowd the wheelhouse, thinking the safest place in this column would be where the greatest concentration of soldiers would be.

It was a solid idea, but they were adding to the chaos.

"Back, back with you all!" A man-at-arms pushed back a servant as he attempted to rush past him.

I shut the shutter. There wasn't much I could do now.

"Mama?" I spoke, trying to contain my nervousness.

I evidently failed when Mama Jo soothingly ran her fingers through my hair. "Everything will be fine, sweetling."

Mama Jo had a frown on her face but otherwise seemed well put together with not a hint of unease to her besides the frown.

"My lady," A deep voice thrummed from the other side of the carriage.

She moved to open the door to speak, but the voice interrupted. "Pardon, but better to leave the wheelhouse closed to ware archers."

Mama Jo aborted the motion before speaking. "Report, captain. Are we in danger?"

"That is what I am trying to find out, but rest assured, we will see you and your children safe."

"I leave it in your capable hands then. Do your duty."

"It will be done." Those were his only parting words as I heard him gallop away.

Tense minutes passed in silence inside the wheelhouse, though outside our little bubble of peace was anything but.

I kept my ears open, trying to hear the first sounds of sudden violence. Would it be the screams of our non-combatants or the clashing of swords? Mayhaps the sharp and distinct whizzing of arrows loosed from bows. Or the war cries of men engaging in battle.

In the end though, it was as I thought.

A mistake.

The heavy steps and neighing of a horse came close again.

"Lady Joanna, there is no cause for alarm."

Mama Jo actually opened the door this time to speak to the man.

"What happened?"

"My apologies, my lady." Another voice spoke, unfamiliar to me.

I blinked. There was another knight there with another dozen behind him. And trailing that group was twice that number of men-at-arms.

I noted that all had the sigils of House Lannister emblazoned upon their form somewhere.

"It seems we gave one of your scouts a fright, and he drew his horn in alarm."

Mama Jo looked him over with an assessing gaze.

"And who be you?" She ordered.

"Ser Lyam, my lady." He answered. "Ser Kevan Lannister has tasked us to see you safe back to Casterly Rock."

"My goodbrother sent you?" Mother inquired with a single raised eyebrow.

"Aye," he affirmed before he reached into his saddlebag on his saddle only to emerge with a letter.

Mother checked the seal before popping it and giving it a read. Unfortunately, I couldn't peek at it due to my bad angle.

"Speak to Captain Hugin." Mother finally said, as she balled up the letter in her hand.

"By your leave." The knight fell back to do just that.

Jeez. I know I should feel safer with more swords between me and anything that might want to hurt us, but was this going to slow us down even further?

With Mama Jo preggers, Tywin was already going all papa bear, or perhaps papa lion, about it, so he tasked some of his own household guard to see us home safely alongside recruiting additional freeriders as extra swords.

Now, Uncle Kevan was getting in on the action?

We were less a traveling column at this point and more a bloody warband. Hells, our little party had more manpower than some poorer houses at this very moment.

I exhaled a sigh of relief and proceeded to speak. "Looks like everything is fine, though what was that about Mama?" I gesture to her Mama Jo's fist, which contained the balled up letter.

"Nothing you need worry about. Your Uncle is just being prudent, is all."

I had no idea if Mama was lying because her poker face was utterly impenetrable.

Whatever.

I plopped back down onto my back.

Excitement over!

What's next? More boredom!

High in the hills of the Westerlands, two figures stood observing the column passing underneath them.

"Alert the men to pull back." One commanded.

"Shame 'bout dat." The other grumbled before walking away. "Always wondered if noble blood made a cunt taste sweeter."

"Another time." The figure watched as the red and gold sigil of House Lannister flying prominently high and proud in the wind got further away from him. "Another time, Tywin."

He turned and vanished into the rocky and rugged hills.