I am fighting to defend the Faith as the Warrior would have me do, against heathen pretenders who's greatest desires are to destroy you by burning or drowning. I am rebuilding Westeros at the command of the Smith and relieving the poor and the infirm of their burdens at the Mother's behest. All I ask of you is to help me in this. To help me better serve the Seven.
...
Listening to the way he told his tale, Cersei could almost have believed her son if he had said he was the second coming of Hugor of the Hill.
In the face of all that, how could the High Septon possibly refuse the king's requests? A debt reduction was a tiny price to pay for such a devout king, especially after the Faith had endured a drunkard and a madman.
And so with the High Septon thoroughly convinced, the small council finally drew to a close.
"Dismissed," Tommen said with a lazy wave of his hand, and all the lords arose from their seats and filed from the chamber. Cersei insolently kept her seat, however, and sat and observed her son as he appeared to age before her eyes, the sparkle in his eyes replaced by a solemnity that she remembered seeing only in the eyes of men more than thrice the age of her son. Exhaustion laced his expression.
His dreams are draining the life from him, she thought.
"I said my councillors were all dismissed, Mother. I do believe that includes you as well."
"A mother can't steal a moment to speak with her son?" Cersei asked.
"A mother can," Tommen sighed, looking up from his sheaf of papers and rubbing his eyes and the ever-developing dark circles underneath.
I should ask him about Ser Osney, Cersei thought, yet when she went to open her mouth, something stopped the words in her throat. Instead she asked: "About Dragonstone..."
Tommen groaned with irritation. "I have my reasons," he said. "And I'll brook no more argument on the subject."
"Does this have anything to do with that Doom of Westeros you spoke of?" Cersei asked, feigning concern even as a morbid bemusement tickled her chest.
Tommen smiled and let slip a harsh bark of childish laughter as he leaned back in his seat. "You must think me a fool. Placing so much stock in a few nightmares."
"Not at all," Cersei cut in, thinking of Maggy the Frog. "I know better than most how unsettling such things can be. I just need to know... Why dragonglass? What's so special about that dull black stone?"
Tommen fell silent, observed her with a strange intensity for what felt like an eternity, and then finally shook his head and said: "It's the only thing that kills them that we can control and safely make use of at scale. Valyrian steel works too, but we haven't enough, and whilst wildfire is another choice, I am not yet desperate enough to consider such a dangerous substance. What we dig out of the ground from the Mad King's plan must suffice for now."
Cersei frowned in confusion. "...them?"
"The Others," Tommen said with a wry wave of his hand. "The grumkins and the snarks. The Long Night come again, an endless winter that will kill us all if we are not ready."
"Cribside tales meant to scare disobedient children, surely," Cersei could not help but scoff. "Or at least long-forgotten history."
"Like the dragons slowly growing in the east?" Tommen asked, with a single eyebrow raised. "Like prophetic dreams? How much difference is there really between then and now?" Tommen shrugged. "Regardless, even if the gods are merciful and I am wrong, it still serves as leverage. The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch believes the threat lurking beyond the Wall to be true, and so long as I control his supply of dragonglass I can effectively control his behaviour to some degree. All the better that Dragonstone is the seat of Stannis's power. With it gone, any lingering support for Stannis in the Stormlands will shortly fade away."
"Thereby leaving him even more isolated," Cersei surmised.
Tommen nodded. "And once Lord Wyman's newfound loyalty can be assured, and he has delivered all lords east of the Knife, the Boltons will be removed and my hold over the North will be tightened till any lingering traces of treason are completely quashed. And all without a single battle fought or a single one of my soldiers dead. In this way the enemy of my enemy becomes my ally, and Stannis will find himself completely surrounded. An enemy to the north in the Watch, to the east in Lord Wyman, to the west in the Ironborn, to the south in the crown. Perhaps... Perhaps then I can convince him of the error of his ways."
Stannis will change his mind when the deserts of Dorne become freezing marshes, Cersei thought, but kept her peace. Even if Stannis was not truly Tommen's uncle, it made sense for her son not to be too eager to be seen as a kinslayer, though Cersei suspected this was more a matter of being soft-hearted then sensible. "I thought Lord Bolton was our ally," she remarked instead.
"Lord Bolton is as untrustworthy as Walder Frey," Tommen spat. "Why do you think I've resisted any attempt at legitimising his bastard son? If the Boltons sink their claws too deep into the North they will become too powerful to easily dispose of, and if that happens I can promise you they will not stay loyal to the Iron Throne for long. Best to keep them weak and dependent on us for legitimacy till a more appropriately loyal Lord of the North can be located."
"And your dreams tell you all this?" Cersei asked, a lone eyebrow quirked, still sceptical despite the evidence of her eyes and ears.
"My dreams tell me a great deal," Tommen said, rubbing his reddened eyes tiredly, "most of which is meaningless nonsense. But I also do happen to pay attention when people speak up with knowledge or advice, even if I may not always agree. I'm clever enough to seek out and learn what I don't know from my counsellors, which is what allows me to parse through the possibilities I am presented with every time my head touches my pillow."
Cersei observed her son, two equal twinges of pity and pride tugging at her heart. It was clear he was struggling under the burden of the crown, even if he had taken to courtly intrigue like a fish to water. Joff fared better even with war threatening to break through the gates, Cersei remembered. Tommen had never been so hardy.
"What do you see in your dreams?" she asked, intending to lead him with the tone of her voice.
Tommen's eyes sharpened. "Someone's awfully curious today," he noted.
Cersei shrugged and impudently said: "A mother can't ask questions of her son?"
The ghost of a wan smile tugged at Tommen's lips even as his gaze drifted down from her face to her body, eyes so incisive that Cersei felt as though he was gazing straight through the silk of her gown at her naked flesh. "I see too much, Mother. Far, far too much." He stood up from his seat, gathering up the sheaf of papers before him on the table into a bundle in his arms, wandered around the table and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Yet you mustn't fret," Tommen continued, patting her shoulder. "Ser Osney is not likely to see another summer intact. Your secrets are safe with me so long as from this day forth I can trust your loyalty."
"You can," Cersei hurriedly assured him, pulling him into a tight embrace as she arose from her seat and planted a kiss on the top of his head, even as she felt a spike of annoyance at the tone he had just taken with her. "I acted only with the best of intentions, out of my love for you. I am your mother. I am the only person you can trust."
"Of course!" Tommen agreed, pulling away from her arms, lifting his head from her breast to meet her emerald gaze with his own. "So long as the plots come to a stop."
...
AN : I feel like with this chapter the story has become a bit bogged down. I'll try and speed things up from here on out.
Feel free to comment and let me know what you think.
...
If you want to read ahead of the public release, or just want to support me.
you can join my p atreon :
[email protected]/Nolma