♛ I Will Not Die ♛

Chapter 32- What Would they Sing if my Life was a Song?

I used to believe in songs and fairytales. The ones who said I would be saved by my prince in shining armor. That I would love and be loved. My knight would protect me. When I realized all that was bullshit I decided I needed be my own god damn knight. But somethings I wished I still believed in those damn songs. To be as naive as Sansa once was.

But that's only a dream.

Margaery lays back against the chair, a hand on her swollen belly. It's been 9 months since they married and she was already with child. 8 months with child to be exact. I've been counting the days. Ever since the night I came to her room and found her with her chin to her chamber pot. I've been counting.

The Grand Maester said she was unstable. This pregnancy may not last. But somehow it's been months. She was banned from any stessful activity. Including 'intercourse' as he has said like it was a bad word. She spent most of her days here. Calling for maids to bring food or water or to fetch me.

But even being ridden to lack of movement, she was here for me. When Tyrion Sansa disappeared the night of Joffrey and Margaery's union. When my mother was sent to Highgarden. When Tywin was murdered. When I lost my second child. She was here.

It wasn't like I was too sad about my second pregnancy ending. It was sort of a relief. But it instilled fear. There was no beating from Joffrey. No great fall. The child just died. Maybe it was the gods giving me a break. Or maybe it was a sign. A sign of infertility. It wasn't unheard of. But it wasn't common.

Cersei was already gone when it happened. Even if at the end we didn't have the best relationship, it was hard without her. It made me miss Tyrion and Sansa anymore. They were branded traitors. Deserters of the crown. Kinslayer. I just wished I could know they were safe. Something. Anything. I received letters from my mother every fortnight. If only Tyrion could get to me from wherever he was.

"When I return, you will be Queen. Not that slut of a Tyrell girl. My daughter. Queen. I swear you that." My mother's words haunted me. I would have slapped her for calling Margaery that name but I was too busy crying. That was the night of her wedding. Such a solemn moment. The ceremony was quick and clearly uncomfortable. Cersei didn't seem to speak or move. I couldn't help but wonder what Tywin had threatened her with to stop her from blowing up the whole of King's landing. If only she had made him wait a little longer then he would have died before she could be married off.

"Aella." Margaery spoke, a distance in her voice. It was like she wasn't even here. "He's bored. You know how he gets when he's bored. And I can't keep him occupied much longer under my condition. Please. Tell me you'll be safe." It's not hard to connect the dots on what she means. He can't fuck her so she fears he'll come to me next.

"Of course, my love." I come to her side, planting a kiss on her head then another on her large belly. This sprouts a smile from her that Joffrey will never get to see. One of the only things that is truly mine. Joff can keep his crown. I have his lady.

But what if Margaery isn't enough.

I play one of my last interactions with Tywin over again in my head. "We must discuss future alliances. With Cersei and Joffrey marrying a Tyrell we need to find an alliance farther north. Myrcella has Dorne. Tommen shall be married to a lady in the north to secure what we couldn't now that Tyrion has scuffled off." Tywin spits the name of his youngest son like its poison in his mouth.

"There's always Ramsey Bolton." Pycelle suggests. I can't help but glare. The council was slimming it seemed. With Littlefinger in the vale, Tyrion gods know where, and the queen mother gone, it was rather empty. Margaery had convinced Joffrey to join meetings to get a better stance in his kingdom, one of the things Tywin despised about the girl. But now that she could barely move, she chose to stay in her chambers. Joffrey didn't usually come to these meetings without her but that day he made a special appearance.

"I will not send the Princess north to be wed by some bastard." Tywin says, giving me a little bit of solace. At least I wouldn't be going to the famous Ramsey. I wondered if he was gone by then would Joffrey have sent me North? Would I have been wed to the Bolton boy? Gods thank Tyrion for timing.

"She could marry me." Joffrey said in a teasing voice but I could hear some truth behind it. All heads swung to him and he did not move one bit. No apology or joking smile.

"I'd rather lose my head." I mutter under my breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Would both of you shut up. That is the worst idea I've heard since the waddling Imp walker these halls." The hand of the king spits, losing his cool at his grandson.

"It wouldn't be unheard of. Aegon the conquerer took sister wives. And the Targaryens have married brother and sister for decades." Joffrey recited like he was reading from a book.

"And look where that brought them. Dead and gone. And those not dead are Mad. What a joy for the Lannister name to go down in history as the Targaryen pretenders." I glared down Joffrey at every word.

"If you both do not drop this subject..." Tywin starts a threat but is cut off by the King.

"You will what? Poison me? Have my uncle shove a sword into my back? Become a Kingslayer. Or better yet a Kinslayer." He stands abruptly, producing a rage that makes him look more like Robert Baratheon than himself. "This meeting is over. I will not sit here while you throw idle threats at me."

I bring myself back to the current matter at hand. I sat near the throne, my mind elsewhere as Joffrey threw threats at his people in court. The door to the chambers bursts open and everyone else is on there feet. As if a battle is about to come through the doors. "It's Queen Margaery." The servant says at a loss for breath. My heart sinks to my knees. My mind plays out hundreds of scenarios. An attack. A knife in the dark. Margaery is dead. "She's gone into labor."

((Y'all arent even READY for chapter 34))