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Wolf Pact by DizzyDG
 TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Family & Romance, [Robb S., Myrcella B.], Words: 163k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Dec 24, 2015 Updated: Sep 13, 2018865Chapter 21: Interlude: A Sister's Lies
A/N: Hey guys! You may have noticed the word count for this chapter is lower than usual, but that is because we're off on a little excursion to the Capitol! It may be short but I hope it will be intriguing... ;) Normal service will resume next week, though I may not be able to update until Sunday/Monday since I'm away (again!) for the weekend.
unnamed visitor: Thank you so much, glad you enjoyed it. Yes, Jon made his entrance, but we will not be seeing him again for a long old while yet, though hopefully there was enough there to show the bond between him and Robb. I can't promise that the Starks will get even, but if anyone tries anything again they certainly won't be getting away with it. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!
Guest: Thank you very much, glad you liked it.
Boramir: Thank you! Yes, it does seem strange that Robb decided to go for Stannis, but Stannis did dismiss him, and I don't think Robb would have taken kindly to his religious views. Well, when I say they split forces, this is when Renly and Stannis were still fighting over Storm's End. Robb took his force to Stannis as he was leaving, whereas Tywin went right for Renly's camp. Really, they would have been close enough to join in with one another if they had to, but Robb preferred to focus on Stannis, and leave Renly to Tywin. Though, obviously, Renly was already dead, which would have left Tywin free to aid Robb should he have needed it. Hope that makes sense! I know it isn't all laid out like that in the chapter, but I think giving a blow by blow when Robb was only having idle thoughts would have been unrealistic. I may revisit it at some point in the future, and perhaps make it a little clearer haha! Hope you enjoy the update.
Right-ho folks, on we go!
:)
Interlude: A Sister's Lies
Jaime
"Your Grace?" he knocked smartly on the wooden door of the King's chambers, his ears pricked for movement within.
"Come!" Tommen's voice called irritably after a moment, and Jaime frowned slightly at his tone. Perhaps this would be harder than he imagined. He did as Tommen had bid him, entering the chambers and bowing his head to the young king. Tommen did not look happy when Jaime lifted his head and met his eyes once more. "What can I do for you, Ser?" Tommen asked briskly, his eyes almost blazing.
"The queen mother would speak with you, your Grace," Jaime told him, and his gaze seemed to almost burn him at the words.
"I have told my mother, I will not see her until she has apologised to the queen. Has she?" Tommen raised his brows and Jaime had to resist shuffling from foot to foot. He knew damn well that Cersei had not been anywhere near the queen, and that there was little chance of the little Bulwer girl getting any kind of apology from his twin.
"Your Grace," he began awkwardly, "the queen mother is beside herself. She meant no offence, she was merely trying to offer some guidance to her good-daughter." Tommen snorted incredulously at that, and even Jaime had to admit that the explanation was ridiculous.
"You think my wife is so weak that she would be moved to tears by the offer of guidance?" Tommen snapped at him, and Jaime grimaced.
"I know not what was said, your Grace," he finally spoke, and Tommen's hard stare finally seemed to soften a little.
"She called my wife unworthy," Tommen told him calmly, "she called her shameless for her acts of charity in the city. I will not tolerate anyone speaking to the queen in such a manner, especially not my own mother." Jaime sighed heavily at that. Cersei had been vague when she had ordered him to go to Tommen and demand her son receive a visit from her. "She was drunk," Tommen said quietly when Jaime offered up no response, and he grimaced again.
"I think she is finding it hard, being away from Myrcella. Worrying about what is befalling her at Winterfell," he said, hoping that Tommen might find some sympathy for his mother. He was wrong, Tommen merely rolled his eyes.
"Myrcella is perfectly happy in the North," he said irritably, "her letters are full of joy and praise for her new home, and her new family." Jaime frowned at that. That was not the tale Cersei had spun him.
"That's wonderful," Jaime said, his mind already elsewhere. Cersei had already begged him, on her knees with tears streaming down her cheeks, to end Robb Stark's life for the sake of her daughter. She had told him how miserable Myrcella was, that Stark treated her little better than a whore, and that his family were intolerant of her. According to Cersei, Myrcella had begged and begged to come home, begged to be saved from a life of torment.
"Was there anything else, uncle?" Tommen asked almost tiredly. "Because if there isn't, I ought to be escorting the queen to dinner."
"Of course, your Grace," Jaime bowed his head again, "I will keep you no longer." With that he turned on his heel and made his way out of the chambers. He inclined his head to the two Kingsguard on duty outside and marched down the hallways towards his sister's chambers. After speaking with Tommen he did not know what to believe. Was it possible that Myrcella was lying to her brother? Sending him placating words so he would not fret and worry about her? He supposed it was, but he knew well enough how close Tommen and Myrcella had always been. Joffrey had been Cersei's pet, and the other children had merely been spares. His sister had never been good at showing affection towards them, she didn't feel the need to indulge them given that they were never meant to sit any throne. Now both of them did. Jaime almost snorted at that. How wrong Cersei had been, and she had left it too late with both of them to exert any influence over them.
Myrcella bowed her head and did her duty. Tommen had done the same, listening intently to the advice of his grandfather and the council. Now he was of an age to make decisions by himself, and as far as Jaime could tell, he was making all the right ones. Jaime wondered if his twin's real problem was that she was no longer needed by anyone. Would that really motivate her to lie about Myrcella? It was no secret that she despised the Starks. Jaime himself had no affection for them, but imprisonment aside, he had let any lingering spite go a long time ago. Things could have ended up being a lot worse for him, and he supposed a few months in an exposed cage was a fair price to pay for crippling the northern king's brother.
He pulled his mind away from that fateful day, knocking firmly on the door to Cersei's chambers. There was no reply, and so he looked up and down the hallway before he let himself in. He called his sister's name as he made his way inside, glancing around for any sign of her. It seemed she was not here, and he sighed, turning on his heel to make his way back out before he paused. Before he could second guess himself he marched towards the writing desk that sat in the corner of the room. He opened up the drawers, rummaging inside and finding only blank parchment, quills, and ink pots. With a sigh he closed them again, deciding to leave things alone. His eye was caught by the panelling at the back of the desk though, and he moved his hand to it, pulling on the lose panel until it came away. There was a small space behind it, full of letters.
He pulled them out, recognising the snapped direwolf seal. Already he was doubting his sister's claims. Myrcella would still have her own seal, or she could have used a blank one, but she had chosen to stamp her letters with the Stark sigil. Why would she do that if she despised them that much? He shuffled the letters before picking one out at random, unfolding it carefully before taking in the neat script. It was no desperate, erratic scrawl. There were no blots on the parchment where her tears had fallen and smudged the ink. His stomach clenched hard. He had always known Cersei possessed a manipulative streak, but he had foolishly thought she would never use her own children for her own ends. Jaime read Myrcella's words carefully, trying to decipher any hidden meaning, but seeing none. Myrcella was not a devious girl, she would never think to write in code. She was so honest and good-natured that Tyrion had always wondered how she had been borne to Cersei, and now Jaime was wondering the same thing.
I beg you, mother, please do not think that Robb mistreats me. I know you must have been worried for me, but I promise you, there is no need. He is gentle and kind to me, and he allows me all the freedoms he can. I do not suffer at his hands, nor in his bed. Please, mother, recognise the truth of my words and be at peace. The Starks are not our enemies, they are kin now, through me, and are kinder to me than I had any right to expect. Believe me, mother, because I do not think I have any more words to persuade you of this truth, and I do not think I can bear to read another letter from you containing such poisonous assumptions. Robb cares for me, and I for him. Please be satisfied with that as I am, as it is more than I ever dared dream of.
Jaime closed his eyes and sighed irritably. What in the name of the Gods was Cersei thinking? What in the name of the Gods had he been thinking to agree to help her without demanding to see Myrcella's letters with his own eyes? She wanted Stark dead, even though she must know what his death would do to her daughter. Was her hatred of the Starks really that great that she would sacrifice her daughter's happiness and risk another war? Apparently so. He quickly folded the letter back up, and placed them all back where he had found them, replacing the loose panel and hiding them again. As he did so he heard the sound of the door opening and he moved away from the desk, seating himself on the sofa and determining to look casual.
Cersei appeared in the next moment, looking surprised to see him. "Well, did you see Tommen?" she demanded of him, and he nodded.
"He won't see you," he informed her, "not until you apologise to the queen." She glared at him at that, and he decided to speak up again before she could berate him for his failure. "I've been thinking about Myrcella," he rose up to his feet, and Cersei eyed him.
"Have you changed your mind?" she asked him sharply, and he shook his head.
"I think we should act now," he said, "I don't think we should wait for her to birth a son. If she is suffering this much at Stark's hands then the sooner he is dead the better. She should not have to suffer spawning his child. Forget the North, Cersei, it will pass into the hands of a cripple and we will have nothing to fear from them. Let's just get our girl home."
Cersei stared at him for a long moment, and he held her gaze, trying not to let his relief show on his face when she nodded her head. "Yes, you're right," she nodded frantically, "of course you're right. She isn't strong enough, she needs to come home now. You need to bring her home, Jaime, and kill that bastard for what he has done to her." It was his turn to nod then, walking towards her and holding her eyes. "How will you explain your absence?" she asked as he came to a halt mere inches from her.
"I will ask father to grant me leave," Jaime answered her, "I will tell him that I wish to consider my future. If he thinks there is a chance that I might reclaim my right as his heir then he will let me go, I am certain of it. I will see him tomorrow, and then I will get the first ship to White Harbour. I will make it right, Cersei, I will ensure that Myrcella gets the future she deserves before it's too late."
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed, catch you later!
:)
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