Thank you for the reviews on the previous chapter!
I'm moving to squidgeworld for my main site. My user name there is Cersei and here is a link to this fic on there. squidgeworld. org
/works/46659?view_full_work=true For now I will still post on here, that may change in the future. The reason I've been so long updating on here was because this site was down for several days months ago, and I worried all of my fics would be lost. I also worry this site won't be around forever. I suppose the same could be true for the site I'm moving to though, but its registered for another 2 years at least and is now a non profit like ao3 so it will survive the site owner leaving or dying. You can also make an account on squidgeworld without needing an invite, unlike ao3 which for some reason still requires one after being around for years and years.
So this stagecoach is like a bus right? I find it very funny that Cersei is so against that haha. And also very accurate for her character.
Yup lol. It's an actual thing that used to exist too, stagecoaches. Though I don't know if they are a thing in asoaif world or not.
"So it's my fault he's dead. Is that what you wanted to hear?" It partially is her fault, yes. Good of them to talk it out for once. They're finally communicating :) I wonder how long it'll last haha
Yeah some. It's slow going for sure, but its a start. And I do feel Cersei if she allowed herself to feel anything about Tommens death would eventually blame herself.
I think Tywin mostly didn't get remarried because he is a hypocrite. He loved Joanna and then didn't want to try with someone else I guess. But the idea of "I doubt he wanted to take his chances with a fourth." is very funny.
Haha yeah I agree. I remember in the books there are some remarks about Jo being the only one who could make Tywin smile. It's sad that in the show the only hint we get that they loved each other is that he's so angry at Tyrion for being the cause of her death.
It's fun how you're essentially theorising who rang the bells inside of the fic :) Who do you think actually did it? Do you truly think it was Qyburn?
I have gone over this in my head so many times and I don't know, maybe? What I think most likely happened is in all the chaos the bells weren't guarded so well and some small folk took it upon themselves in hopes it would stop the attacks. I think if Cersei had given the order they surely would have shown us. I'm in the process of rewatching the show and with that listening to all the commentaries and inside the episodes for the first time, so maybe I will find out.
This made me think about another order though - the order Cersei gave to kill Jaime. I'm wondering if actually Qyburn took it upon himself to give that order. He might have worried that Jaime and Tyrion would return and convince Cersei to surrender, and he knew his form of Maestry would not be welcome under Daenery's rule.
This is a very slow-paced chapter, but it's a decent length at least.
The first sensation that hit Cersei when she woke up was nausea. She willed herself not to vomit. It had burned her throat something awful the previous morning. and they didn't even have anything to drink, not even some water to rinse her throat. She'd nearly called out for a maid to bring her some before she remembered where she was, and who she was now.
She tried to distract herself with thoughts of the previous evening. She and Jaime had both had been in such foul moods after arriving home from the inn; angry not at each other, but the world itself, and they'd gone to bed shortly after that, but not before he'd told her how relieved he was that they'd finally talked about Tommen. She hoped it might be a turning point in their relationship. She just wanted things to return to how they had been, or at least as much as possible in this situation. After he apologized for leaving her and laying with that ugly beast, of course.
Of course, they still needed to confirm when the baby was due. If the previous healer was right then...
Then what? He wouldn't leave her. Would he? He loved her, and she needed him now more than ever. She prayed to the gods for the child to be his.
Next to her, Jaime roused, and to her horror, it was at that moment that she lost the battle against her nausea. She managed to make it to the nearby chamber pot just in time.
"I'll go get some food to help settle your stomach," he offered.
She wiped her mouth with a nearby towel, wondering if the inn's maid was supposed to wash personal items. "That would be wise. Some blood oranges and fresh bread will do," she replied, without turning to look at him.
Jaime returned a short while later. He greeted her warmly as he set a sack full of food on the small table. She approached the table and opened the sack to find two oranges, two apples, a loaf of bread, and several strips of dried bacon. There were also two bottles of cider.
Sitting down, she grabbed a strip of dried bacon and let out a sigh of contentment. It had been far too long since she had any bacon, even in this form. As a woman, she'd always had to avoid or restrict herself from such fattening foods.
Jaime laughed affectionately at her. "You can have all the bacon,"
"Really? I've never known you to turn down meat."
"I had two blood sausages on my way back. That's more than enough meat, even for me," he explained. It was the only food he loved that she despised, finding the smell and texture repulsive.
She wrinkled her nose at the mention. "Disgusting. I am glad you did not bring it back here."
She finished all of the bacon before trying some of the bread. Having to break off a piece, rather than having a slice already cut for her from one of her servants made her feel like a lowborn. It was still warm, and it was moist, but she missed having a bit of jam to spread on it. She was unaccustomed to eating plain bread. Her servants would have brought her honey, jam. or even butter if she'd requested it. "Next time you must get some jam for this bread," she demanded.
"We'd need utensils too then," he said.
"I hadn't even thought about that. How do people without servants manage to remember all this trivial nonsense?"
Jaime took a final bite of his apple, chewed, and swallowed before replying. "I suppose they get used to it." He hesitated, holding the core in his hand, seemingly unsure what to do with it.
She noticed his hesitation and rolled her eyes. "Just leave it here. The maid will come in and do away with it."
"What about when we have no maids?"
"Can we truly not afford even one?" She asked.
"It's another mouth to feed and cloth and I'm sure they would want some sort of wages."
"I never paid any of my maids a thing, not even Bernadette. A room, food, and clothes fit for royalty were more than enough."
"But you were a Queen then."
I will always be a Queen, even if nobody knows it or agrees, I am still the rightful Queen of Westeros, whether I am ruling it or not." She paused for a moment, before voicing her solution, "We could purchase a slave."
"A waste of money. They would probably run away. It's not as though we have guards to keep them from leaving," he replied.
"So we're going to have to do the work of slaves and servants?" She asked, sounding horrified.
"I suppose so." He stopped eating briefly to turn to look at her and she swore it looked as though he was trying to suppress laughter.
She couldn't entirely blame him, she knew she must have looked quite a sight. Her mouth was agape, fear was shining in her eyes and she had dropped her piece of bread. One would think she had seen something truly horrific, not just been informed that she wouldn't be able to have servants of slaves. A part of her knew her reaction was a bit over the top, but to her, this was truly horrific news. She didn't mind doing some things by herself, but other things like fetching water, or cooking her own meals? Those things sounded like a lot of hard work for one, or even two people.
"Don't worry. I can do the bulk of it," Jaime said finally.
She eyed him warily, the answer doing little to calm her. "Well, I don't suppose there is much to do, for now, so long as we are staying in an inn. I just tossed my core onto the street yesterday. I'm sure they have some sort of people to take care of that?" she stated, questioningly.
"Did you have anybody to do such a thing in King's Landing?" He asked, breaking off some bread for himself.
"Of course not! Nor did Joffrey, Tommen, or Robert as far as I know. If the smallfolk wanted to live in their filth it wasn't the crown's job to stop them."
He laughed, "Well, maybe that's why Kingslanding always stunk so."
"Are you implying that was my fault?" she asked, annoyed.
"Yours. Roberts..." he hesitated a bit, "and Joffrey's and..."
"How dare-"
"Mostly Roberts, of course. He should have set a precedent."
"And what would you have had him do, assign soldiers to clean up duty? How ridiculous." She hated Robert, he'd been a terrible king, husband, and an absent father, but in this matter, he had been right.
"No, of course not. He could have hired some men do such."
She raised an eyebrow. "With what money?"
"The crowns money of course. Better that than what he did spend it on."
"Part of being a monarch is indulging in things you enjoy. It's one of the perks of ruling," she said. She couldn't believe she was defending Robert, but it was silly to think that he should've spent money on cleaning up the smallfolk's filth.
"Wouldn't you have rather he have spent less on wine, food and whores if it would have meant Kings Landing would have stunk less?"
She sighed in defeat and went to go sit on the bed, having eaten her fill for now. "You have a point, but still, I can't see why it should be a King or Queens responsibility. We had what was needed taken care of, taken care of. The grounds of the Red Keep and the area surrounding the gates kept clean and clear."
"Well, the smallfolk do pay taxes. But nevermind that. Will we for certain not stay in Pentos?"
She scoffed, "Not nearly as enough as they should have. And as for Pentos, as I keep telling you, it is not safe."
"Nowhere is going to be safe so long as Daenerys and her dragon both live," he argued.
"You said you were certain Tyrion-" she began, her voice rising.
"If he can. Or Jon."
"Well, I suppose that is beside the point. You know that I meant safe as in safe from us not being found by anyone. I am more concerned with being recognized by some small folk and brought back for a reward," she said.
"If you're insistent on not settling in Pentos we should pick where we will settle soon. If people fled south before crossing the narrow sea Tyrosh may also have its fair share of refugees, but any of the rest should be fine. Though, of course, you'll want to avoid Braavos for more than one obvious reason," replied Jaime.
"Yes. I imagine if somehow any of the Golden Company managed to survive they'll scurry on back there," she said.
"Arya Stark has connections there too," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "Now you've gone from too reckless to too cautious. Just because her father hired a trainer from there years ago doesn't mean she has connections."
"That is not what I meant. She lived there for years. It's how she evaded capture for so long."
She eyed him suspiciously. "How in seven hells could you possibly know this?"
"At some point, she told Sansa and the information got back to me."
"You mean that giant cow told you."
"If you're referring to Brie-"
"Who else would I be referring to?! Have you known other giant whores? When did she tell you this?"
"Some time after the battle with the White Walkers. Arya apparently trained and became a skilled assassin in her time there. She supposedly was the one responsible for the deaths of The Freys."
"How?" She asked.
"I don't know the details."
She got up from the bed and stood over Jaime glaring at him. "First you tell me she survived. Then you tell me she killed the Night King. Now you're telling me she killed the Freys. Is there anything else I should know about that wretched girl?"
"Just that she despises you, but I'm sure you already knew that. She may even hate you more than Daenerys does. So we really should avoid a city she may someday visit again."
She let out a loud and annoyed sigh. "Fine. So no Tyrosh and no Braavos then."
"Aye. Do you have any preference with the others?"
"I know very little about them. You'll have to tell me more of them. I'm to assume you know."
"I know just a bit more than you," he replied.
"Well, perhaps you can tell me later. We should get ready to leave. Are you done eating yet?" she asked. In truth, she was far too annoyed to carry on a conversation. Arya Stark a skilled assassin? It was laughable, yet the girl had killed the night king.
Were all of her remaining enemies living their dreams, and celebrating their victories while she languished in exile?
Jaime eyed the bit of food that remained on his plate and swallowed the bread in his mouth before replying. "I was still eating you, know, you could certainly see that. But yes, we can leave and see what the rest of Pentos has to offer."
"Let's disguise ourselves before venturing any further," she said suddenly.
Jaime groaned. "Must we really? There isn't much way to disguise the most obvious, so it seems rather pointless."
"Your hand can most certainly be disguised."
"It would cost quite a bit of our money to have a more realistic hand crafted."
"On the contrary, it costs nothing to fill a glove with some wood wool as I suggested the other night."
"That won't fool anybody!" he exclaimed
"Why don't you see for yourself? Come," she commanded.
He followed her to the bed. There was now what looked to be a long, brown leather-gloved hand. She watched as he examined it. There was wood wool inside of the hand part, and there was even some softer fabric, covering the wool for the part that would directly touch his stump. She smiled as an impressed look crossed his face.
"When did you have time to do this? he asked.
"Just this morning. While you were out getting food. I stuffed it with wood wool, and some softer fabric, leaving just enough room for your stump."
"Well, It looks rather well done. Thank you."
She shrugged, "I was bored."
"Shall I try it on now?"
"I suppose. Let's see how it looks on you."
He put on the glove. It was long enough that it didn't end around his stump, in fact, it was so long that it went above his elbow. He held it up for her to see.
"I did a good job," she said, proud of both her selection with the glove and her careful stuffing of it.
"A very fine job. Imagine If we put some pig's blood in this glove. If some poor child asked for me to lend them a hand with something I could remove it and actually lend them a literal hand. It would be rather amusing to watch their horror until they realized."
"I thought you were so traumatized by your loss? How is it you can make such jokes? Need I remind you it is no laughing matter?" she scolded.
"I was. I am. But I've dealt with enough hands jokes, many of them by your dear Euron, need I remind you."
"He was not my dear Euron! I tolerated him to keep my throne!"
"My apologies," he said, sounding genuinely so. "But as I was saying, I've dealt with enough hands jokes by now that I can make my own. It's not as though it would truly frighten anyone, anyway, except perhaps small children. They'd quickly come to realize it was just a stuffed glove."
"Well, now that that's settled we should take a proper bath before leaving. After that, we can dye our hair and you can shave," she suggested.
"How? We've no tub," he said.
"Perhaps they can bring us one?" she said.
"I doubt it. I think It's the bathhouse for us."
"Then what was the point of us paying extra for the inn's best room? It seems other than a larger room, and a large locked chest there are no benefits," she replied, frustrated.
"We have a table and chairs as well and a rather nice view," he argued.
"I do not want to go to a bathhouse. Who knows how often they change those waters. I would sooner die than sit in a tub made filthy by a bunch of peasants."
"I'm sure they change the water regularly."
"Even one bit of peasant stunk water is too much," she protested.
"Will you never take a true bath again, then?"
"We will have a tub in our new house. I'm sure even with one hand you can manage to carry water and boil as needed."
"You would help of course?" he asked stupidly.
"We really will need a slave. Or servant," she sighed.
"We have already determined that it's not practical," he said.
"How do poor people manage? Even the talk of all this work is exhausting," she said.
"I suppose we can request some pails of water," he said.
"Another sponge bath? Ugh. Well, the water they gave us last time did seem clean. I suppose that will have to do," she agreed, albeit reluctantly.
"I'll go see about getting us some water then," he said.
"Hurry back. I'd like to get an early start on the day."
Time seemed to pass ever so slowly as she waited. With little else to do, she pondered upon which of the free cities they should settle in. She was undecided whether they should go east to Norvoos or Qohor or south to Myr or even Volantis; or perhaps even all the way to Lys or Lorath. She tried to remember what she had heard of each one, but couldn't recall much. Father had not concerned the geography and politics of the free cities an important thing for them to learn. She could recall that Tyrion's whore Shae came from Tyroth, Varys the traitor from Lys, and Volantis was where the blacksmith who reforged traitor Ned's sword was from. She supposed that could be a point for Volantis and a point against the other two if she were keeping track.
A door shut, knocking her out of her thoughts. She turned to see that Jaime finally was back. "What are you doing? Why is there a bucket of water next to you?" she asked.
"Well, I can't exactly open a door and carry water at the same time, now can I?"
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why are you carrying water?"
"Because we need water. And the errand boy was busy with another task so they told me to get it myself," he replied as he picked the pail up and carried it inside.
"Get it yourself? We are not servants! We paid for this room."
"The room, aye. Not the rest."
"Couldn't you just find that maid you bribed last time and have her do it?"
"I have no idea where she is! Probably off cleaning a room or something."
She sighed, getting up to greet him. "You should have demanded they find somebody else to bring it! But if you insist on doing the work of a servant, fetch us one more of these." She paused to examine the water. "Why isn't it more fill?"
"It was fuller when I started to carry it. Turns out carrying a bucket this large isn't easy with one hand."
"Are you hinting that I do it?" she asked, appalled.
"Of course not! Just offering an explanation. Are you sure we need another?"
"Yes, I am sure! We may even need two more. I'm sure we must be emitting foul scents. which we've become immune to. I didn't buy that soap for nothing either."
"You smell fine. We smell fine. I think. But I'll get the water." He turned to leave.
"Wait!" she exclaimed.
"What?"
"Carry that one over by the fire first to warm it."
"Sure." He carried the water over to the fire as commanded before promising to be back shortly.
He left the room and she rummaged through their new purchases before finding the dye she needed. She set it aside, along with some soap, before undressing.
My fic looks lonely over on squidgeworld! If anyone wants to come review there it would be much appreciated! Since this chapter took so long to come out and not much happens I will have another in a few days to a week.