Melara sees Casterly Rock, and it feels like it is with new eyes.
This was a Keep that had never been described in the book series, and in the show of Game of Thornes, had never been shown in great detail like they had the Red Keep or even Winterfell. And it's beautiful. The wealth of the Casterlys and the Lannisters had gone into the building and improving of the castle for so many years. Marble the color of Lannister red is underneath her feet. Mosaics of both effortless tiles and jewels line walls. Scenes of the West's history, the might of the once Kings. Stained glass and glass in general break up the Halls as she walks. All set in pale, pale limestone that made up the Keep that had been carved from the very cliffside on the sunset sea. Her memories loved this Keep, despite the pain she had endured since she had been brought here. And in her naive reasoning, the pain she had endured in its walls had lent her reason to make it her's. The only way for her suffering to have meant anything. Before the Well, she had thought that Jaime would be her husband, Cersei her Queen and sister. It was a wonder that she in her previous thoughts before the memories of Earth, had wanted to live here always.
But nothing is owed to her.
Her pain, as much as it hurts her to know, does not have a point. She was just a girl being beaten, and nothing would ever come from it. There was no prize at the end of her endurance, no great reward. The world didn't owe Melara Hetherspoon shit.
Melara looked at Cersei's hand in her's, and she wondered.
Cersei had cried for her.
Cersei had murderd her.
Cersei had pressed her fingertips into her throat and tried so hard to keep her lifeblood in her.
"You're oddly quiet today, Melara," Cersei's voice is judgemental. Her hand squeezes Melara's, and its not quite painful-
But it could be. It seems that all her interactions with Cersei are like that. With her memories… Melara doesn't quite know what to think about Cersei Lannister so young.
She does know, she has to use this girl for her own sake.
"I'm tired my friend," she tells her, honestly, voice soft.
Because she was, trauma, memories, and plots lay heavily on her shoulders.
Cersei rolled her eyes.
"Well get untired, Melara. Honestly, you are completely strange today."
You have no idea, Cersei, no fucking idea.