You Know Nothing || Cersei Lannister (GxG)

LXXII. THE FINAL CHAPTER

A/N: *Sobs quietly* This was extremely hard to write, considering the fact that I've dedicated so much time and so much energy to this fic. I had an idea of how I wanted it to end, but I decided that you guys probably wouldn't like that very much (*cough Cersei dies cough*). Let me know what you think, and thank you for all the reads, votes, comments, and smiles. 'Til next time, S.

   "Paityn." Jon grabbed my arm as I took brisk strides in the direction of the Red Keep. I drew back, but his grip was firm.

"Yes, Jon?"

He took a deep breath and sighed before encouraging me into a secluded corner. "Daenerys and... several more of my advisors have told me that you have forsaken this family by fornicating with a Lannister."

"Careful not to trip up your words, brother, that was a lot of f's."

"Do you think this is a game?" He grit his teeth, and for a second, he looked exactly like my father did when I broke his favorite ale mug.

"It is. A game of thrones. That's what our father always said."

"This is not a game anymore." He shook his head. "This is war. Were you not listening to me? Did you not see that... thing?"

"I did, Jon. Believe me, I understand." I crossed my arms, suddenly chilly. "I just don't see what any of this has to do with me and... The Queen and I."

"Here, take my coat." He said stiffly, draping the fur over my shoulders. "And you know exactly what this has to do with you and the Queen. You don't belong here, Paityn. You belong in Winterfell with Sansa and I."

"Just because you haven't felt love doesn't mean you can criticize me for feeling it."

"I have felt love, I'll have you know." He rose his voice, saw me flinch, lowered it again. "I killed a boy for it, just as countless have died for your decision."

"You don't know me, Jon." I barked, like a true direwolf. "You knew and love Paityn the girl, but I have a feeling you wouldn't like Paityn the woman very much."

"I haven't changed." He looked out into the stirring dust. "Perhaps I'm the only one who hasn't. Sansa's gotten prettier. Bran's gotten more ineffectual. Mother, Father, Robb and Rickon have gotten dead-"

"Stop it, Jon." I took a step back.

"You've gotten stupider-"

"Jon, I know you blame me."

"For all I know, Arya's dead as well!" He shouted, hitting his fist against the wall to the left of my shoulder.

"Arguing about it won't change anything, and neither will breaking your hand." I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him against me, burying my face in his chest. "I'm sorry." I said then, my voice sounding muffled. "But I can't help this. I don't want to help it."

"I understand." He patted me on the back. I noticed our not-so-considerable height difference and the change in his body language. "And that is exactly why I can't allow you to return to Winterfell."

"What?" I followed him as he started in the direction of his troupe.

"If you cross our gates, we will behead you for treason. If you leave this city, our scouts will pursue you. You are no longer a Stark of Winterfell, but a Lannister of Casterly Rock. You will live here and you will die here, whether it be from the walkers or from natural causes, I'm not sure. One thing I can assure you, however... you will never see your family again."

"Jon." I said, taken aback. "You can't really mean that. I'm still... I'm still family."

"It's what Father would have done."
"Father would have protected me!" I shouted, seemingly at nothing. "In fact, that's exactly what he did!"

He turned then. "What do you mean by that?"

"The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives." I said. "He knew. He knew and he protected me. After he died, I got a letter. It said, 'I love you, my daughter. Live long and keep your sisters safe.'"

"And you didn't manage to do that, by any chance, did you?"

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"I'm disappointed in you, sister." Was all he said before turning on his heel and disappearing forever.

~

I heard a faint struggling from Jaime's chamber as I made my way back to mine, distraught. Jon's fur was still tight around my shoulders, and I had recovered my weapons from Missandei. Upon hearing Cayte cry, I started down the hallway again, but my feet stopped and I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of dread. Cersei was in there. Cersei was struggling. I don't know, how I knew, but I did.

And once I kicked open the door, catching a glimpse of Jaime's golden fist around Cersei's pale throat, I knew that I had known, instinctively, that my love was in danger. For the first time in my miserable little life since my meeting her, the gods had done something kind for me.

"Paityn, help." She threw out her hand as her face started turning the color of summerwine. For a moment, I stood still, enthralled with her beauty, even then. Soon though, my body started to vibrate from the cobblestone floor up, and I slipped the dagger from its place in the waistband of my trousers.

Jaime didn't even look at me, just continued strangling my Cersei with cold, dead, emerald eyes. "You never loved me. Admit it. I was only an extension of yourself."

"I did. I did love you." She said, her voice thick with saliva and sadness. "But that time in my life is over."

"Your life is over regardless." He grit his teeth, not realizing that I was there. He didn't really realize it until I was plunging my dagger into his back, twisting my fingers into his golden hair and pulling him back. He staggered, shocked, while Cersei took deep breaths, reaching for the edge of the bed, but sinking to the floor because of her impaired vision. My own vision was impaired in a blind rage.

I hit his pretty face until I couldn't see the pretty anymore, continued raping the wound in his back with my dagger until his blood coated my hands and seeped into the cracks of the floor. I must have started crying, because once she had regained her balance, she rushed over to me and grabbed me beneath the arms. I continued swinging weakly long after she dragged me into the corner where the walls met, wrapping her arms around my waist. She held me tightly as we cried, unsure of what might happen tomorrow, or the day after that, or twenty years after- if Westeros was even still standing by then.

After several silent moments, after both our breathing patterns regulated, she spoke.

"Thank you." She said.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"No." She buried her face in my shoulder. "But I will be. And Paityn?" She added, placing a soft kiss there.

"Yes, Cersei?"

"You always knew everything."

THE END.