A Champion of Light and Lions (Cersei Lannister x OC)

12 - Gone

Desperate, I tugged at her elbow. "Cersei, please."

She gave me a puzzled look and opened her mouth to speak when a loud crack and the flutter of wings made us both turn back around. 

Joffrey had cut into the pie with his new sword, slashing one unlucky pigeon clean in half while the rest flew off in a feathered, squawking cloud.

"Wonderful", Margaery applauded, laughing as Joffrey revelled in the attention.

Two serving girls brought the royal couple their slices. Margaery fed her husband a piece from her fork, caught up in their young blossoming romance, while Tyrion tried to use the opportunity to sneak away.

But Joffrey wasn't as distracted as he seemed and noticed. "Uncle", he called. "Where are you going? You're my cupbearer, remember?"

"I thought I might change out of these wet clothes, Your Grace", Tyrion replied smoothly.

Joffrey shook his head. "Oh, no, no. No, you're perfect the way you are." How endearing, I thought sarcastically. "Serve me my wine."

Tyrion moved to comply, and Joffrey urged him on. "Well, hurry up. This pie is dry."

No, it is not. It's much worse than dry. "Cersei, can we go now, please? The toasts aren't starting until after he's had his pie. We'll be back in time."

She looked at me hesitantly. "Are you sure? If you're feeling this bad, it might take a while until you're better."

"Once I get it out, I'll be fine", I replied.

Tyrion handed Joffrey his cup and the king drank greedily. "Mh, good. Needs washing down."

"Alright", Cersei finally, finally agreed. "If you promise you can make it quick."

I nodded quickly, relief flooding through me now that I had at last managed to convince her to leave, and not a moment too soon. I took her arm. "Thank you, love."

While we spoke, Tyrion tried again to leave the wedding. "If it please Your Grace, Lady Sansa is very tired-"

"No", Joffrey cut him off, then coughed. I walked Cersei away from the feast with fast steps, my heart pounding. "No, you'll wait here-" Another cough. 

Cersei looked over her shoulder at her son, frowning. I tried my best to tug her onward without making it too obvious. I couldn't fail this close to the finish line.

"Un-" He couldn't even finish the word before another coughing fit shook him. Cersei stopped walking entirely now, turning around to see if her son needed help. Help I couldn't allow her to give.

"Your Grace?", Tyrion asked.

Joffrey gulped down more wine to clear his throat. He didn't know he was only making it worse. "It's nothing", he choked out.

He tried again to draw breath, but failed to. Gasping, he clawed at his throat and looked up at his wife for help.

"He's choking!", Margaery shouted, and Olenna called, "Help the poor boy!"

Cersei ripped free from my hand, running toward her son, who was slowly stumbling toward the main floor, still gasping for air to no avail.

"Idiots, help your king", Olenna yelled.

"Move away!" Jaime stormed out from the crowd just as Joffrey collapsed to the floor, spewing bile and blood.

Cersei reached their son as well, cradling his face. She pushed Jaime away and pulled Joffrey's head into her lap. Sobbing, she could do nothing but watch as her child lay dying in her arms, his skin turning a sickly purple hue as rivers of blood descended from all openings of his face. "Help him", she breathed over and over, but there was nothing anyone could do against this affliction.