You Know Nothing || Cersei Lannister (GxG)

LI.

Dedicated to insearchofthemuses and Anonymous_Athena for being lovely readers😘 also looking at all you amazing people who said they'd read my next fic😊❤️
Fair warning: this chapter is a bit different.

It had been awhile since Joffrey and Lord Tywin's respective deaths, and Cersei was doing well. We had spent our days uninterrupted, and for that I was glad. After my mother and brother's murder, I guiltily started to question Cersei's love and respect for me. The main thing I asked myself; was it truly out of her power and in her father's hands? Of course I loved her, and of course I knew that she loved me. I just... in my grief... had my doubts. Just as she did with my loyalty. Except I never voiced mine.

Her presence was reassuring. She reminded me daily of her dedication, not leaving the room unless she was satisfied I believed where she was going. I fell in love even deeper than I had before- if it was possible.

She was still angry at Jaime for letting Tyrion go. I was still angry at Jaime for what he had done to her. So she sent him away, to Dorne, to bring their child home. Our child, Cersei called her. You'll be as much of a mother to her as I will. The way she spoke was so hopeful... I insisted that I travel instead, just to see the look on her face when I returned with her daughter, our daughter. But she told me it was too dangerous, and that she'd rather risk Jaime's life than mine.

That frightened me, when I thought of how she had loved him.

Would she one day leave me for someone younger and more beautiful?

In the middle of the morning, Cersei woke up nauseous. While she visited the Grand Maester, I payed a visit to Tommen. He was sitting on his bed, staring off into space. The door to his room was wide open.

I knocked. "King Tommen?"

"Oh. Hello, Aunt Paityn." He said fondly, looking about the room for something. "Do come in."

"Pray tell, how is the king life treating you?" I asked politely, and he stood, lifting the pillows on his made bed.

"I don't favor it." He said. "If I'm being honest." He sat back down on the bed with a sigh. "And it's dreadful how these things come about- someone dies, and the next of kin replaces them. As if they never existed. There is no time for grieving, no time for a childhood..."

"You're getting married soon, aren't you?" I asked, leaning against the bedpost.

"Yes, I suppose I am." He played with his fingers. "Married to my dead brother's widow."

"Margaery is a lovely girl, I'm sure that she'll make a lovely bride as well." I offered, trying half-heartedly to make him feel better.

"Thank you, Auntie." He noted the tone in my voice. "Do you love my mother?"

I stopped dead in my tracks, even though I wasn't moving. "What do you mean? Of course I love your mother. She's my friend, my Queen."

"Do you love me?" he asked.

"Of course, Tommen. We may not speak often, but I am your family," I said, concerned as to how and why this all came about.

"Good." He replied. "Mother and I are so lonely. And our safety is never guaranteed. I know you can't help my uncle Tyrion. Or my uncle Jaime. Or even my dad, my grandpa, and my brother. But you will protect us, right?"

"With my life, nephew." I sat down beside him, a quiet meow emitting from beneath the bed.

"Ser Pounce?" He asked, the conversation seemingly forgotten.

The cat slipped out from under the bed and jumped into my lap, rubbing its small, furry head against my hand.

"He likes you." Tommen chuckled, and I did the same, stroking 'Ser Pounce''s soft fur.

"I'm glad." I replied, as the cat shifted into his lap.

Looking at him smile warmly and pet the small animal gave me a sudden, overwhelming feeling of pure love, and, for a moment, I wished that he were my own child. I wished that I could have one to love and spoil and tousle their hair and do things that would make them whine, "Mom! You're embarrassing me!"

And everytime I imagined the future, I imagined it clearer, with Cersei by my side.

I never wanted children, because I never thought I would find the right man, let alone ever want to engage in relations with him, or push a living being out of my private parts. Just thinking of it made me shudder, but as of now, as of this moment with my nephew, my son... it was as if everything... changed.

It's hard to explain, and I may not make sense, but I know. I'll always know.

"I love you, Tommen." I blurted, and he tilted his head at me, that soft smile not wavering from chubby, slightly pink face.

"I love you too, Auntie. We must talk more. Though I do have my kingly duties."

He tried to sit up straight, the corners of his mouth crinkling, and I noticed his crown was far away from him, perched on the table in the middle of the room.

He only wore it when he had to, I understood that.

Crowns are the heaviest kind of burden, Cersei taught me, and I knew it was true from how crooked her neck had become after so many years of carrying that burden.

Tommen seemed like the soft boy I met once in Winterfell; throwing around 'I love you's left and right, growing so extremely sad when they weren't returned.

The boy jumped from a tower, I remember. My brother Bran... he was lucky.

   "Tommen, I can see that you love a lot. But... promise me you'll never let love drive you to... unnecessary lengths." I said, reaching out to tousle his hair.

   He smiled grimly. "Of course, Auntie."

~

   It had been nearly half an hour when Cersei returned, breathless and shaking. Before Tommen could see her like this, I shut the door behind me and grabbed her by the shoulders, leading her to her own room, not far from her son's.

   "Are you alright?" I asked once she was sitting stiffly on her bed, while pouring her a glass of wine.

   She glanced at the cup I held out to her, and shook her head, pushing it away. It was then I knew something was seriously wrong.

   I took and put the goblet away, sitting beside her on the bed. "My love, what is it? What's troubling you?"

    She threw herself into my arms and begun to sob, her entire body quaking with emotion. She tried to speak but nothing but jumbled words and flecks of spittle came out.

   So I just held her while she cried, feeling helpless. How should I feel when I don't know what's happened? Should I feel sad because she's sad? Angry because someone's hurt her? I settled on concerned because... I didn't know.

   Eventually, her large sobs turned into quiet, monotonous sniffles, and my breast was soaked in tears. Eventually, she pulled away, eyes puffy and red, and she spoke.

   My heart ached for her, dreaded her next words.

   "Forgive me. Thank you."

   "There's nothing to forgive. And no need to thank me." I said quickly. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

   "I'm pregnant." She blurted, and my jaw dropped.