CHAPTER EIGHT
Saera
Present Day
My grandmother sat on the end of my bed and held a wreath in her hands. The one my mother made when I was sick as a child. She picked at a piece of it and smiled. It was twined into the shape of a heart.
"I remember your mother writing me when you were ill. She was pregnant with Jacerys at the time. I thought she was writing to me to tell me to start my journey for his birth but rather she wanted me to know you were sick. You were sick for a week, Saera. Alana told me she was making a wreath for you... Lady Stark taught her well. I never got the hang of it." Grandmother Cersei admitted to me.
I keep the wreath in my room above my bed. Mother always told me it would continue to keep my safe so long as I have it. But when I saw her burn the one she made years ago it scared me. I didn't want her to burn mine. Sometimes I still fear when she comes into my room and looks at it that she'll throw it right to the flames.
That I'll see her scream and cry again the way she once did.
"What happens if you burn one?" I asked softly. "I saw my mother-"
Grandmother went stiff and handed the wreath back to me. "You don't know?"
"Don't know... What?"
She shook her head. "Oh sweet Saera..." Her smooth hands cupped my face and a kiss landed on my forehead. Her long fingers pushed my hair behind my ears and she kissed my forehead again before speaking ever so softly. "It's not for me to tell you."
"Tell me what?" I've been confused before. But never this confused.
Suddenly it hit me.
My mother must be a witch.
Burning something in the fire and the way she had screamed? How she and my father were so distant after that? She wore black for a long time. I remember that vividly. Black. She always wore black. She was a witch, she still is- that's why she knows things that I've done before I can even confess to the truth.
My mother is a fucking witch.
It wasn't a mental breakdown that my mother had. She wasn't sad. She was performing a ritual and my father was trying to stop her and it was a scream of anger and rage that he was trying to interfere.
Perhaps my father was resentful that I'd become a witch also and be just like my mother. I had to prove to him that I'm not a witch. I sucked in a deep breath and rose from the bed. Going to my wardrobe and picking out a bright blue gown.
"Is this one bright enough?" I asked my grandmother who looked at me confused. "Should I wear this to dinner tonight?"
A smile and a soft nod. "It's love, Saera."
"Good."
-
At dinner I watched as my mother hardly ate the food on her plate. She picked at everything except the steak. Which was cooked medium rare. Bloody. I wondered if she always ate it that way. My father even made a grossed-out face seeing the blood and juices drip from the piece that was on her fork.
Witch.
She's a fucking witch.
Isobel leaned into me as I stared wide eyed in horror at my mother. "You're mad at her aren't you?"
"Huh?"
"She said to ask your father about the sleepover, didn't she?" Shit. I had so much going on with the news of my grandfather dying that I forgot to ask my father after my mother told me I needed to ask him.
I nodded softly. "Sorry, Izzie. I meant to ask him but it's been a crazy day."
"My mother's father died when I was four. I don't remember much of him but I remember my mother was sad for a while. Your father gave her a leave and paid for her to stay home with me and grieve. He handled the costs for a funeral too."
"Must be nice." I grumbled.
Isobel always speaks so highly of my father. She doesn't know the Robb Stark that I know. I suppose that's a good thing. It means he's good to the people but since I'm no longer his heir, don't I count as being one of his people now? One of his fucking subjects?
Although I can say he has been... Trying. In his own weird way.
"Well anyways," Isobel changed the subject. "Your grandmother was really nice to me earlier. She called me..." Her voice changed to a low whisper- "Lady Greyjoy..." Which caused my brows to reach my hairline.
"How-"
"Your grandmother is Cersei Lannister. Queen of- nope. Sorry, I can't say that. It's treason." Her mouth slammed shut.
"Say it." I grit through my teeth. "If you are insulting my grandmother I want to hear what you have to say."
"Jacerys told me in confidence. I shouldn't repeat his words. I'm so sorry, Saera, I meant no harm." She's lying. I know she's lying.
I shook my head at her. "Jacerys would never speak poorly of our grandmother. Especially not Cersei. He's her baby. She loves him so much and has always spoiled him. Who truthfully spoke ill of her to you?"
Isobel reached for her cup and started to slurp down her wine when I slapped the cup away. Wine spilling on her gown but I didn't care. My nostrils flared with rage and it felt like flames were coming from them.
"Isobel." I demanded. "Tell me now."
"Theon and your father-"
"They spoke the words to you? Of all people in this world they'd talk shit about my grandmother to you?"
"They said something to my mother. And my mother told me." She admitted and this time I knew it was true. "Now can you pass me that napkin so I can get this wine off my gown? My mother will kill me if it stains."
"I'll kill you if you ever try to throw my brother's name into why you and your family are shit talking my family." I gripped the knife in my hand that I had been using to eat with, part of me wanting to stab Isobel in the eye and the other part of me wanting to cut her throat. Maybe I'll just stab my steak instead. Which is what I did.
Jacerys approached my table as I was stabbing into my steak. His eyes wide and he chuckled as he straightened up his leather vest that laid on his chest that he'd been working so hard to bulk up muscle on.
"Isobel," He said with a smirk until his gaze landed back on me stabbing my dinner. "Gods be good, Saera. I think the bull was dead when father shot his crossbow though it's skull."
I stabbed it again and then took a bite.
"As I was saying," Jacerys's voice always became flirty when he's around Izzie. "My father is throwing a big celebration next week. In honor of me being his heir. A fire show and performers. Tons of food and drink. But I need a belle of the ball, perhaps you'd like to mine for the evening, Lady Isobel?"
Fumbling over her words, I swear tears began to fall from her eyes. Isobel was thrilled that Jacerys asked her to be his date for this event that I had no idea was even happening. "Y-Yes!" She pleaded with him happily. "I'd love to go with you, Jace!"
I rose to my feet and my chair nearly hit the floor.
"Where are you going?" Jacerys scoffed at me.
"I need air."
"There's plenty of air in here."
"Not nearly enough with your big head sucking all the air from the room." I pushed past him and he flipped me off. I heard my mother shriek at him and Jace laughed loudly. But I continued on out the doors toward the stables.
With my back leaned against the barn I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. Not because I was scared but because I'm full of nothing but anger. I never wanted to be queen but my father stripped it away from me without even giving me a chance and the moment he signs his will over to Jacerys a giant party is being thrown?
I had this horrible habit from my mother where I chew the skin around my fingers or pick at it. I hadn't done it in a while but the moment my eyes locked down on my hands I started picking again. Causing little drops of blood to rise to the surface.
"Shit." I muttered to myself.
"You're missing the party." A deep voice grumbled at me.
After nearly jumping out of my skin I noticed it was my father. I didn't say anything. I just stood there completely frozen in place. My back completely against the barn. He stood next to me and reached into his pocket, pulling out a pipe.
"Are you smoking?" I asked as I waved the smoke away from my face.
"No, I'm riding a horse." Sarcastic prick. That's where Jace gets it from. "If you had to have the conversation I had today you'd understand."
"Let me guess... Only a king would understand?" I rolled my eyes.
A scoff. "Only a fuck up like me would understand. You're not a fuck up, Saera. You're... You're a good person."
I couldn't be hearing him right.
"I... I don't think you're a total fuck up." I said softly.
His brow raised as he took a puff from the pipe in his hands. Blowing the smoke forward and shutting his eyes for a moment. "No. I am." He admitted. "I fucked up everything in my life to impress a man who's dead. And then I- I did so much stupid shit that I can never take back."
Quickly my father's eyes flickered at the gown I have on. "Blue? You hate blue."
"It's the brightest gown I own." I shrugged. "I'm not a witch."
He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I didn't say you were."
"Good. Because I'm not. I never have been and I never will be. I'm not a witch." I had to be sure he knew I'm not a witch like my mother. Who may I add... Is wearing a dark purple gown tonight. Really dark. As she was eating a bloody steak? It screams witch.
Father cleared his throat and took another puff of the pipe. "Did... Did Jacerys call you a witch or something? You're acting like-"
"A witch? Well. I'm not one." I fought back instantly.
A simple nod. "Alrighty then..."
"And if I were a witch-"
"Saera," Father exhaled. "I came out here for quiet. Normally you're quiet so... Can you just not go on about not being a witch? I get it. You're normal."
"I'm not normal." I argued with my arms crossed over my chest.
A laughed belted from my father's throat. "Oh I know that's for certain. You're far from normal."
"But I-"
"Not a witch. Got it, kid." He puffed again and then sighed. "Can I tell you something that you can't tell your mother?"
A secret? Fuck yes. Maybe he's going to admit to me that my suspicions were true. I widened my eyes and nodded. Excited to hear what I've been waiting all day to hear. The fucking truth about something.
"Your mother is pregnant."
My smile fell.
My heart fucking sank.
"No she's not. I would have known."
Another puff of the pipe and sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, I would normally known too. She fucking sprung it on us today in hopes it would make your grandfather Robert see a healer or use some magic from Stannis's red witch."
"Do you think she's... saying it to get Grandfather to agree to something?" It was wrong of my to suggest it. Treason even, but my father looked at me and we shared a similar look of concern. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that-"
"That was the first thought that crossed my mind, Saera. But I looked into your mother's eyes. And then I remembered when she first got the letter about Robert's trip up here. She had been uh.. Insistent of our marital duties." He cleared his throat. "Two months. She's got to be about two months along."
"She stunk of vomit when Grandfather Robert arrived. She told me she was just nervous for his arrival and I believed her." I thought back to how her breath stunk. She even had a stain of it on her gown.
Father nodded. "I thought that too. But she's been very emotional and now it makes sense. She told me from the start she knew something was wrong with her father or her mother, but mainly Robert. I should have listened to my wife instead of calling her fears imaginary. Now she's forcing herself to have another baby in hopes your grandfather will want to be alive to see it."
"Maybe it will change his mind." I wanted to try to make my father feel better but I could tell by the look on his face it didn't change anything to him.
He shook his head. "She's stubborn. Alana is very stubborn. And if this somehow works... I know she'll just think it's the answer. She'll have more and more children just to keep Robert alive."
"I know I shouldn't speak on this but..." I swallowed hard. "You lost your father... You know the pain and maybe if you help Mother talk through her emotions and what she'll go through it'll maybe... I don't know."
"I tried." He said in a grunt. "I handled his death poorly. So poorly it affected you and I'm so sorry, Saera. I truly am."
Sorry...
My father is actually sorry?
It's not an excuse though to his shitty parenting and shitty behavior toward me. I nod silently and he continues on his tangent.
"I was young and stupid and always let my father's words swarm every decision I ever made. So what you're a girl... I didn't have to name you my heir I could have just waited for a son. I got two and yeah, it was poor of me to wait so long to name Jace as my heir. It was hurtful to you and I'm so sorry I did that. I just didn't want to disappoint my father... His spirit- I feel him around me all the time. Telling me that everything I do is wrong."
"I want to tell you it's okay but-"
"It's not." He said quickly. "It's not okay how I've handled any of this. I was 19, Saera. I was 19 when I became a fatherless boy, a husband, a king, and then a father. All at once. You're almost 18... Tell me how you'd react to that being your fate? All I knew was that I was going to have a wife and I needed a child. My father insisted it had to be a son. It has to be a son, Robb. Starks make boys fit to rule. It will be a son. I was in shock when you were born... It wasn't what my father told me would happen. It was out of my control. And I'm sorry."
"I never asked to be born or to be a girl. All I've ever wanted was to feel loved." I admitted to him finally. "Isobel has Theon and watching how he treats his bastard is like a slap in the face. I'm your daughter- your first child! All I've ever wanted was to feel enough for you. I don't care about being your heir, actually I'm glad I'm not. But I just wanted to feel like your daughter for once."
"Saera..." His face dropped.
"No." I stopped him. "This isn't something I'll be able to forgive you for right away. Or maybe even at all. This honestly fucking sucks."
"Language." He said sharply.
"It. Fucking. Sucks."
Father began to laugh and just looked at me. "Yeah... You're my daughter..."