This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":
- Invite : ''King/Queen''.

All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.

Context: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence – Pre-serie

Enjoy reading!

Jaime contemplated his sword, dripping with blood.

It was over. Aerys Targaryen was dead. The Mad King was dead.

He looked at the Iron Throne, big, monstrous, black, which seemed ready to swallow anyone who sat on it, anyone who tried to seize power.

When they were small, with Cersei, he had promised her that he would be king, and she would be his queen. Wasn't that the promise that all little boys made to their lovers, when they still didn't know about the world around them and its cruelty?

Unconsciously, he climbed the few steps that separated him from both the abominable silhouette of the throne and his wildest dreams.

When he stood above the stage, dominating the entire room more than he had ever dominated anything, he did not hesitate for a split second before making his decision.

He sat on the Iron Throne, opening the door that would lead to his freedom, to their freedom, to Cersei and to him.

To their freedom to love each other, to their freedom to marry, to have children together and to create a dynasty that would last a thousand years.

After all, the Targaryens had married well between brothers and sisters for more than three hundred years. Why couldn't the Lannisters do the same?

Besides, their father had wanted so much to make his daughter a queen. He would not refuse this opportunity, even if it was her own brother she should marry. Wouldn't he?

And if their father tried to stop them, Jaime could force him to do so, one way or another. As King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, he would have every right.

Cersei would not have to marry a lord she did not know, and who would only see her for the children she could give him. She could marry Jaime, who loved and cherished her more than anything else in this world, and together they could have little princes and princesses with gold buckles and emerald eyes.

Thinking about it, he began to smile. He would do anything for Cersei. If, in order to love him in broad daylight, he had to become king, then so be it. He would become king. And she would be his queen.

He was interrupted in his sweet dreams when the heavy doors of the Throne Room opened on the fly on Lord Eddard Stark and his Northmen.

Ned Stark contemplated him at length, silently, as if waiting for Jaime to come down from the Iron Throne, which he claimed in the name of his friend who had led him into a long rebellion, Robert Baratheon.

Seeing that he was not making the slightest movement to rise from the throne where he was proudly seated, the Northerner spoke up:

''Ser Jaime Lannister. You have no business on that throne. It now belongs to King Robert, of the House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms".

A sneering smile was born on the knight's lips, which still did not move an inch:

''And yet, I see Robert absolutely nowhere. Or perhaps he thought it unworthy for a future king to participate in the taking of his capital ? ''

Eddard was stunned for a while, but then he finally came to his senses:

''He'll be here soon. And when he does, he'd better not find you sitting on the Iron Throne.

Jaime continued to smile, with his usual arrogant look on his face as he looked at Ned Stark. Then, chewing his words well, so that the Northerner would not doubt what he was saying, he announced:

''Well, Robert isn't here. So, the throne is vacant, and I have no intention of coming down from it.

Stark looked at him, without seeming to grasp what Jaime had just said.

"What the...''

But Jaime cut it off before he had time to finish his objection, clutching the handles of the swords that were the armrests of the Iron Throne:

''I claim this throne. I proclaim myself, I, Jaime Lannister, the first of my name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.''

Eddard Stark's companions all drew their swords, but just as they were about to advance toward Jaime, the Lannister soldiers who had invaded the city a few hours earlier entered the throne room.

When they saw Jaime on the Iron Throne, they all bent their knees in uniform motion.

That's when he knew it was won.

For the first time in his life, Jaime entered his father's office in the Tower of the Hand without asking his permission or waiting for an invitation.

He decided to keep his father in this position, not only because he has always managed to do a good job, but also because there is no one else he could offer it to. The idea of naming Tyrion had crossed his mind, but his brother was still too young.

Anyway, for the moment he had another problem to deal with.

His father was sitting at his desk, probably writing a letter.

He barely looked up when his king of sons entered.

Nevertheless, he put down his pen when Jaime was standing right in front of him, his hands resting on the desk.

As he said nothing, it was Jaime who began the conversation:

''I have come to talk to you about my marriage.''

With those words, Tywin finally gave Jaime his full attention and looked him in the eye:

"I'm very comfortable hearing you say that. But now that Lysa Tully is married to Jon Arryn, it seems to me that you must have something in mind to take the lead in this way.''

Jaime wondered how to tell him, and then preferred to tell him offhand.

''I'm going to marry Cersei.''

Lord Tywin's green pupils speckled with gold wrinkled, as if he hadn't quite understood the name of his daughter coming out of his son's mouth.

"I beg your pardon?''

Then Jaime repeated:

"I'm going to marry Cersei.''

His father's mouth was now a thin line, now so tightly pinching his lips:

"No.''

To that answer, Jaime stood up:

''I didn't come to ask your permission. I came to tell you of my marriage, not to ask your permission to marry the woman I have chosen.''

Seeing that his father still wasn't saying anything, he added:

"I am the king. I do as I please. And you have always wanted Cersei to be queen: she will be. The Targaryens married well between brothers and sisters for more than three hundred years. The Lannisters can do the same. After all, the lion doesn't care about the opinion of the sheep, and ...''

Tywin thought long and hard: to impose the Lannister dynasty, to make sure that it was well seated, on the Iron Throne, and that people did not think it was inferior to the Targaryen dynasty. If the Targaryen had been able to transgress the laws of gods and men by making incestuous marriages, then the Lannisters had to follow suit.

''Fine" he breathed.

Jaime paused in his tirade and looked at his father:

" Excuse me?''

I said, "Fine. You have my permission to marry your sister. And, anyway, I know that even if you didn't, you would still do it. You said it yourself. You are the king. The king does as he pleases.''

Jaime nodded silently, then left the room.

It was a cool night in King's Landing.

Lying under the silk sheets of Jaime's room, they were both out of breath from their embrace, which they had just untied.

They said nothing, leaving a comfortable silence enveloping them as Cersei closed her eyes, almost beginning to drowsy, her head resting on Jaime's chest, huddled against him as he stroked her hair, occasionally kissing her on the top of the head or on the forehead.

As he leaned closer to her, kissing the skin just behind her ear, he whispered:

"I talked to Father today.''

''Hmmm...'' she muttered, without even bothering to open her eyelids.

Jaime laughed silently, knowing exactly what to say to make his sister react:

''Yes...'' he kissed her on the cheek. ''About your future marriage, in particular.''

As soon as those words crossed his lips, Cersei rose abruptly, looking into his eyes.

He could read sadness, and something like fear in her beautiful emerald irises.

''You're getting married in a fortnight.''

He felt her trembling against him.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she instinctively huddled up against him, like a kitten, no, like a lioness, and, kissing her again on her cheek, he blew in her ear :

''You can no longer be the King's mistress, Lady Lannister... Or rather, you can no longer be the King's mistress, Your Grace, I should say...''.

When his eyes lifted up to look at him, there was no more fear.

No, only love. Love and hope. Just like in the kiss that followed.

Thank you for reading!
Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^
Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.