𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕔𝕦𝕓𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕠𝕠 ; (ℂ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕚 𝕩 𝕆ℂ🐺🦁)

𝟙𝟝 - 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕠'𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤

ℂ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕚'𝕤 crying nearly broke my heart. She had been sobbing on her bed for hours, and I did not know what to do except sit with her and wait until she was ready to talk. "My golden boy", she sniffed. "He didn't deserve this. It's so- so cruel-" Her voice broke off, interrupted by another fit of sobs. "Why would anyone do this?", she whispered. I didn't answer. "He was just a little boy." Her eyes stared ahead, unseeing. "My little boy. Yes, he was the king, but he was still so young... so innocent..." Innocent? Her shoulders shook with silent crying as she, too, seemed to realize the untruthfulness of her last words. "No, he wasn't innocent. I don't want to remember a wrong version of him. I would have had all his life to mourn the person he didn't become. If I didn't then, I shouldn't now. Now I grieve for him, the real him, the him I loved no matter how twisted he became." She shook her head, looking up at me, and I watched her pain turn to anger, which was somehow all the more heartwrenching. "What would the daughter of the honorable Ned Stark think of that?", she asked bitterly. "You have honor", I said, tears in my eyes as well, my voice no more than a whisper as daggers twisted into my heart at this self-image of hers. "You love your family. What's more honorable than that?" "Knowing when not to love them", she replied quietly, her eyes dropping to the ground. I exhaled deeply. "Joffrey was not a good person, everyone knew that, and so did you. But he was your son. No one can blame you for loving him even when he did the terrible things he did." "My father wouldn't have", she argued. "If one of us..." She shook her head again. "He would have disowned us and kicked us out for even a fraction of what Joffrey did." "Then that makes you a better parent than him", I said decidedly, taking her hand. "Tywin isn't some superior life form that everyone should strive to be. You shouldn't strive to be. I like you a lot better the way you are, and so does Jaime" - I said it even though it pained me, because I knew she needed to hear this - "and Myrcella, and Tommen, and all the other people who care about you. They don't want Tywin Lannister, they want you, the lioness of the Rock, the queen who outlived her abusive husband of twenty years and still finds reason to smile, the strong woman who endures and survives and grows through everything the gods throw in her path. They want you, the person, the human, the woman who is allowed to cry and laugh and love and feel however she likes, because she isn't made of porcelain or stone, because she is real and she is herself. Do no apologize for your feelings. Do not regret them, or scorn them, because they are part of you and you mustn't change for what anyone expects you to be, least of all people who don't even bother to see the real you." She stared at me, her lips slightly parted. "I-" She broke off again, her mouth opening and closing several times until she found the right words. They came out in a whisper. "Can a person love someone against all their better instincts, against all the hate they feel for them?" I didn't hesitate. "Yes. Because you want to know what the strongest instinct of all is?" Her eyes told me she already knew the answer, but I said it anyways. "Love. We do not choose whom we love, and thank the gods we don't. The world would be a much darker place for it."

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We were standing in the sept, looking at Joffrey's body. There was no one inside but us, even the Kingsguard on duty had stepped out on account of the visitor being the deceased's mother. Stones painted to look like blue eyes covered Joffrey's real ones, a custom I'd never understood. It looked ridiculous. Cersei had been looking at her lifeless son for a few minutes in silence, but now she broke it. I had no doubt she had already said her private goodbyes to him in her head, but she seemed to want me to hear the rest. "You weren't a good man", she said quietly, forcing the words out as her eyes fluttered closed. "And I spent all your life pretending you were, turning a blind eye to your deeds, but... deep down I knew. And I think perhaps I just couldn't stand the idea of my beautiful boy no longer being mine, of me losing control, of him growing into his own person so unlike what I imagined. I tried so hard to be a good mother, I did, but maybe what I tried to be wasn't what you needed. And maybe... Maybe I couldn't bear to think I had failed, because then how could I justify the fact that I still cared, that I still loved you? Because I did. I loved you so much, my son, even when I saw you at your worst. I never blamed you, never could, I always thought it was something I had done, some way I had failed at being a good parent to you. But what makes a good parent? I grew up without a mother, my father was... well, he was my father, and when I had you, I quite frankly had no idea what I was doing. I only knew I wanted to protect you, had to keep you safe and happy. So I did. But what if that was where I failed? What if by giving you whatever you wanted - and not what you needed - I ruined you? And if I was to blame, then what did that make me? A terrible mother? A failure? But I couldn't be, I was the queen, the people adored me, I clearly hadn't failed in any regard but this. So I couldn't blame you, I couldn't blame myself, and when there's no culprit, there's no one to keep in check. It spiraled out of control, through my persistence in convincing myself and the world that we had done nothing wrong, that there was nothing wrong. It made us both worse people. So I redistribute that responsibility now, because I can't let you go with that lie hanging over both our heads. You weren't good. You weren't a good son, nor a good man. And neither was I. I wasn't a good mother, nor a good woman. We're both to blame, we both fucked this up, and we're both the reason you are on this bier now and I have to tell you this. So, I suppose what I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry. For not doing better. And I forgive your actions, because there's no use in spurning a ghost, but I won't forget them. I will no longer deny your responsibility for them and your malice. We both did bad, and we both shall suffer the consequences. Neither of us is washed free of the disaster that was your life, be it in death or on earth."