Chapter Two

A/N: Thank you so much to The Hope Lions, green, XBolt51, Brady420, monocrows, ProTaggingProperly and my wonderful guests for reviewing the first chapter; I've been overwhelmed by the response! Just to clarify, this is an AU story, as stated in the description and first chapter; I know Gendry's canonical storyline in the books and this will not be it.

Cersei awoke to the sound of a babe mewling in the cradle, and at once, the bile began to rise in her throat. She had grown used to silence in her chambers, though when her babe had cried, it had roared like a lion; this poor child scarcely had the strength to cry.

It had been less difficult to pretend her anguish than she might have imagined. The queen had woken that first morn and cried for her guards, screaming for one of them to fetch a maester. When Pycelle had examined the child, she refused to put him down, cradling the babe as if her touch alone could make him well again. She had played her part as well as a mummer on a stage; even the king had believed her folly.

Of course, once she was alone it was a different tale. The boy would be returned to his cradle, out of sight, and she would seek out a few hours of rest before he cried again. But the more days passed by, the harder Cersei found it to put the child down. By the time a week had passed, she refused to do so at all.

"Take it away." the queen instructed her handmaiden, turning her nose up at the plate of cheeses and fruits. She had no time for such frivolities. The girl wavered a moment- it was clear enough she had her orders to make certain the queen ate her meal- but she obeyed nonetheless, bobbing a curtsy and leaving the plate on a table at the far side of the room, in the hope her mistress would pick at it later. It had been the same routine for a week, and Cersei had scarcely relented.

Once the girl was gone, the room was silent once more, but for the laboured breaths of the sleeping babe. The young woman looked down on the child, frowning; she was unused to feeling so powerless, when her own father had raised her to sit at the top of the world.

For the thousandth time, a voice inside Cersei's mind screamed out in despair. 'You chose this child for a reason. You wanted this all to be over and done, so that you might have a true heir to put on the throne. There's naught to be done to spare the babe, unfortunate though it might be; why waste your precious time on a lost cause?'

But still she did not relinquish her grip on the child. The more she held the quaking bundle of blankets, the harder it was to tear herself away. The boy was like a poisonous weed, wrapping its venomous tendrils around her heart and clutching until she could barely breathe. The pain was becoming unbearable, and Cersei longed for it to be over and done.

It would not be long before the Mother answered her prayers. That very night, the babe began to cough, a terrible hacking sound that seemed too forceful to have come from one so young. The child seemed to show a certain strength even as it was dying. Mayhaps Jaime had chosen a little too perfectly.

After an hour of listening to the ailing child, Cersei rose from her bed, crossing her chamber to the doorway and hoping that she had remembered the guards' rotations well enough. Much to her relief, only one Kingsguard stood watch, alongside two men in Lannister garb. Her own twin brother.

"Jaime." she whispered, hoping not to draw attention to herself. The younger's head snapped towards her, his eyes wide with concern. The wooden door was hardly thick enough to muffle the child's cries; he would have spent the night listening to them.

Once the door was closed behind them again, Cersei threw herself into her brother's arms, clinging to him the way one would to a raft in stormy waters. Jaime held her in silence, unquestioning, just as his affection had always been. As had his loyalty.

"I cannot bear this any longer." she murmured through gritted teeth, her voice muffled by the leather of his doublet. "Each cry makes my heart burn, like a brand under my skin. This was supposed to make it all easier."

Her strong exterior began to falter, and it was akin to a knife scraping across Jaime's skin to see her crumble. Reluctantly, the knight pulled back from her embrace, resting a hand on each of her cheeks to force her to meet his eye. "What would you have me do?"

Cersei did not answer; she did not need to. The pleading look in her eyes was enough.

Somewhere behind the two of them, the babe whimpered louder. The queen inhaled deeply, her eyes clenched so tightly shut they might have never opened again. As much as it hurt to see her so tortured, Jaime could not help his relief. Anything was better than watching the ghosts dance across the emerald green of her irises.

Two more hours went by before Jaime was relieved of his guard, the stone-faced Ser Barristan coming to take last watch. The way the legendary warrior looked at the boy was almost enough to make him wonder if the Lord Commander knew what he had done. It was impossible, he had taken such care… but still he wondered.

The climb to the tower seemed endless, the heavy weight of exhaustion weighing on his limbs like lead. 'There is no time to hesitate.' Jaime reminded himself, pushing onwards even as his body screamed in protest. 'This is all for Cersei. She is already crumbling; wait too long, and your dear sister will be nothing but dust.'

Once into his chamber, the young man shed his armour in favour of a brown woollen cloak that still bore the stench of Flea Bottom from only a week past. The ghost of the babe's warmth seemed to linger in the wool, though it was like to be only his imagination. 'Real or dream, it does not matter. He will be home with Cersei soon. True, he might be the son of that Baratheon bastard, but he has Cersei's eyes. She will love him for that. And so will I.'

For the first time, the burden seemed to lift from his shoulders and Jaime allowed himself the smallest smile as he sank onto the mattress, pulling a pair of worn leather boots from beside the bed. All would be well…

The sound of bells pealed across the city, shocking Jaime into wakefulness. Panicked, the Lannister boy looked to the window, seeing sunlight stream through the gaps in the shutters. 'No.' his mind cried out. He had only shut his eyes for a moment.

Immediately, he thought of Cersei. Were those the warning bells? Was the city under attack? He had to keep his sister safe, to keep any harm from coming to her just as he had always promised to do.

With a sickening turn of his stomach, Jaime realised. The bells that sounded high above the city were not an insistent call to arms, but a slow, mournful toll. He had last heard those bells little over a year ago, when the war that had torn the Kingdoms in two finally came to an end. The death of a babe-in-arms had scarred his conscience then as well.

'Oh, my dear sister.' His mind cried out. If he listened carefully, he imagined he could hear her soul cry out. 'Now you have truly lost a son. And for all the role I played in stealing him, I might as well wear his blood on my hands. I am sorry, sister. I could not protect you from this.'

A/N: Quite a while for the second chapter, sorry about that! I absolutely believe that Cersei would have struggled to raise a child that wasn't hers, hence why she specifically asked Jaime to get a child who was close to dying, but I do think that watching the orphan boy struggle would have hit a little too close to her in regard to giving up her own child. Unfortunately, Jaime was too late to fix it. And so here we are! Really hope you enjoyed, guys, please review!