“ … is that TRUE, my love ? “

    she does not think much of her age ;  if she does, it frightens her. not quite
    an old woman, and yet, no longer young. she has seen much in her years ;
    yet, WAR stands to be the most terrifying thing she has endured …. without
    ever stepping a delicate foot onto a BATTLE FIELD.

    war tore her family’s loyalties to shreds, took her daughter away from her, left
    her son weeping into her skirts in the middle of a throne room that smelled of
    BLOOD. war took tyrion’s nose and left him with SCARS, took jaime’s hand
    ( and innocence ), fueled cersei’s wildfire of AMBITION, and turned her lord
    husband into little less than a monster. 

    she has seen much, but the ruin of her family has torn her heart to pieces.
     ( she never intended for her children to see that. ) 

    it is with hesitation that she speaks again, pasting a smile onto her lips 
    as she places a hand on her eldest son’s cheek ;  the other reaches to
    take his in her own.

            “ —- and what makes you say that ? the gods have been so good to me.
              they graced me with three beautiful, GOLDEN children, and i have lived
              long enough to see you THRIVE. my age is a blessing, my dearest son.
              a mother could not ask for anything more. “