night gathers.

she was the dragon queen. and seeing him now in her presence frightened her. her old bear had left her, against his will, and she had sent daario and barristan away as well. she was there with the man who presumed to be her brother, the brother she hadn’t known, alone and afraid. though, she would never show it.

cersei was sure she could never really love anyone other than herself. she could claim love for another. claim it for jaime. for her father. for her future children. but she was sure love was not real, not really. real love lived in fairytales that cersei never cared for.

until she saw rhaeger. she had been little more than a girl, a pretty girl but a girl nonetheless. she had been promised by her father when she had been even younger. he had whispered promises of a crown in her ear.

and even when he had married elia, she still carried something for him. a torch, perhaps. not love. but she could always dream.

“serena!” her cry was genuinely happy, dany’s face lighting up at the girl whose family had sheltered her and viserys.

the dragon queen strode forward to embrace her tightly, caring not who saw this act of affection. let them know their queen loved easily.

winterfell was colder than usual that evening, and jon could find no mirth in the entertainment that evening, even as good as it was. her hair and features reminded him of the valyrians, so similar to the dragon queen he now knew.

the former red woman had known her, and at the sight of her, she paled. the lord of light had brought her back. the sacrifice had not been to his liking? or, did she have greater things ahead of her?

“my lover often spoke of rhaegar and of elia. i did not know her, but i believe elia might have liked you. we dornish appreciate a woman of strength.”

“lady tyrell,” robert greeted with a smile and a hefty laugh. “what a great pleasure to finally meet you. a good thing your father brought you to court.” 

“well, well, well. if it isn’t my great niece.” brynden smiles easily for the young woman, resting a hand on her cheek as he pulls her in for a gentle hug. “you’re mother would be so proud of you. i’m proud of you. not that that matters much in the grand scheme of things.”

her hands were shaking again, even as they ran through jaime’s golden hair. her eyes were glazed as she tried to calm her wild mind. she had not spoken for some time, but she was often quiet in jaime’s presence.