THE RED KEEP: CERSEI LANNISTER
The halls rung quiet, when there may once have stood hundreds of jubilant folks of all walks of life to witness this peculiar event there now only stood a small company of sellswords to keep watch. Where once the throne would be flanked with her most loyal subjects to read the intruder there now only stood the former maester Qyburn and the one score goldcloaks to keep watch. While there were a handful of Targaryen queens that came before her, they were but an afterthought in their time; Cersei knew she would rise above them all, at the least she could make a start by eliminating the last of that wretched bloodline once they exhausted themselves fighting the dead up north.
The soldiers had at last brought the man to the great hall of the Red Keep, his figure looking spindly, pale and seemingly insignificant before the throne, his blank expressions coming as though he were a wildling who had never even seen a castle in his life.
"I give you the man of Ex-com, your Grace, the foolish charlatan was trying to seek favour from the Alchemists guild. "
"Thank you for your service, Wollam, you may return to your post."
The sellsword left the grand hall, the clanging of his plate and chain armour breaking the near silence that was the throne room.
The skyfolk man gave a small chuckle, his eyes darting around the empty promenades, the stained-glass windows that, at least for the last few months, now bore the Lannister lion upon its stained glass panes and the great and cavernous roof, its depths almost reaching up to the heavens themselves.
"And to whom among the proud people of Ex-com might you be, stranger?"
The man's attention was drawn back to the Queen, his motions stiff yet laid back, she felt a defiant fear within his eyes. He took a knee before quickly rising once again, beginning to speak.
"Of course, your grace. It would be ill-mannered to enter the city without having the courtesy of properly introducing myself. My name is Commander Michael Waterson, the head of Ex-com's operations and, as some of my own have called, humanity's saviour and liberator from the great enemy that brought our entire world to its knees."
The queen leaned back, surprised yet stoic, she had only heard whispers of the skyfolk over the past few days, and now, as quick as their arrival, their leader to have come before her and alone no less. What matter within the capital could be so grand, so important that their leader would come here without escort?
"So you are the great Commander Waterson. My people have said a great many things about you and your people, about how your people descended from the sky, about your iron beast that soars as fast as lightning. I would have imagined such powerful people would have an equally powerful person to lead them."
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint. It was not by my hand that I was chosen as leader but I would rather let the results speak for themselves." Michael chuckled.
"Of course, while the people and the tales of your kind have answered a great many questions I had about this Ex-com, there is but one that has yet to be answered."
"And that is?"
"Where are your desires, Michael Waterson?" Cersei answered, "What riches could possibly exist within our realms that someone like yourself could possibly want to come here? Of course, some of the less civilised folk in Flea Bottom may call you such lofty names as the Gods incarnate or the Lords of the heavens, but I am no fool unlike those unwashed pigs. I know you are naught but flesh and blood just like the rest of us, you are not of the Gods nor are you above the same desires and needs as every other soul in this land yet you hold knowledge and wisdom far above our imaginations. So tell me, what is it you desire most? Gold? Power? Information? I am sure we can come to an arrangement to help exactly with anything you need."
"My only desire is to return to our home, surely the spies you sent against the Starks and others shared that information along with exactly how we were dragged into your world against our will?"
Cersei stifled a laugh. "Of course, and what a moment to arrive in too, winter has come, and with it, the most chaotic era that Westeros has seen in centuries: Ancient houses consigned to memory, old alliances shattered, dragons burning entire armies to ash all while the Night King marches with an army of hundreds of thousands of the living dead. And yet, where leaders fall, someone inevitably rises to take their place; such it is, such as it has always been."
Michael gazed at the queen, confused and scratching his head. "What's any of that supposed to mean?"
"They say that your own home is under threat from its own enemies. It would be most unfortunate if the most esteemed among your own could not find a way home. And what happens then? The Night King is defeated, of course, and the far North, along with what miserable tracts the dead had massacred along the way become ripe for conquest. I dare say your kind could easily make a new kingdom from the wastes that inevitably arise."
"Excuse me?" Michael said. "Is that what you take us for? A band of renegades and aspiring conquerors who have abandoned our home to pillage and steal your lands?!"
"Only you are making these assertions, Commander, I can only know so much from what stories and hearsay comes out of the lowlifes that roam the streets, it would be far better to hear your many deeds from the man himself."
Michael went silent for a moment, almost still before letting out a frustrated groan.
"You want to know if we're allied or declared for Daenerys, don't you?"
"It was hardly the first thought that crossed my mind."
"Okay" He said, his hands outstretched. "Once again, I don't know what your spies have said, but my terms with the so-called 'Dragon Queen' were simple. We offer our support to protect the people of Westeros, and in return, once the Dead are taken care of, they offer what they need to get us home. It's as simple as that: No bending of knees, no pledging of allegiance, and certainly no bootlicking if that's what you thought."
"It simply find the matter confusing is all. I hear your soldiers are fearsome in combat, wielding weapons powerful enough to fell entire armies before them, to smite dragons from the sky as though they were pigeons. What I don't understand is this; what could Daenerys possibly have that could possibly pique your interests?"
"What is so awe-inspiring about mortal peril, your grace? Are the lives of every soul in this city, this kingdom so irrelevant to you? Actually, forget I asked, are the lives of everyone in your court so irrelevant to you that you need to find some other reason?"
"Do you think the threat of the White Walkers has escaped my notice, Commander? Surely you know by now that I too have pledged my support against that which seeks to destroy us all. Even now our forces are marching north to join up with the Northern armies."
Michael winced in reaction, beginning to walk circles around the middle of the room. The goldcloaks and the Queen alike watched puzzled as the man began speaking in faint whispers. Cersei kept her best to stay vigilant, who knew what magic tricks or mangled rhetoric this man could conjure at any moment.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Michael whispered, barely audible to the queen.
"Of course, Commander", Cersei explained, confused. "I have a duty to the realm."
Michael twitched in her direction in surprise before letting out a sigh, reaching inside and pulling out a slab of clear glass from his ink-black bag.
"Your Grace, Isn't it a bit pointless to keep up this facade? We here in Ex-com coordinated with dozens of settlements across the globe to undermine and ultimately overthrow our alien oppressors. Do you really think that we didn't have the capability to speak with the folks in Winterfell in real time?" Michael asked.
Cersei felt her heart sink in that very moment. "What are you talking about?"
With a few taps on the glass plate, the voice of Jaime Lannister began to emanate from the glass.
"Cersei… never intended to make good on her truce. She has kept her forces in the city for only until the Dead have either killed everyone in this castle or wrought themselves to ruin trying."
"What is the meaning of this? You would dare taint this place with witchcraft?!" Cersei yelled.
"That... is what your brother-slash-boyfriend spoke two days ago before the entire North." Michael said with restraint, "Now, you must understand, we here in Ex-com are only concerned in the protection of mankind from threats beyond, it is not our place to intervene in the politics of the realms of our world, so believe me when I say that you should have no reason to lie to me. Our terms with the self-styled "Dragon Queen" are to assist in the defense of this world in exchange for the tools and knowledge to help us return and save ours. A world for a world, so to speak; No more, no less. By extension, we spoke with the alchemists guild for the same terms, how to save their world with what they know in extension for how to help us save ours. And now I am here, once again to offer the same deal."
"And you saw fit to speak only to both the Targaryen whore and the alchemists first? Why is it that you sought counsel with them first and did not take the matter directly to myself. I am the Queen and I hold responsibility over this world more than what either of those claim."
"I am addressing the matter to you at this very moment. And to that end, I would like to offer the same terms to you. Help us return home when the time comes, and we will help in the defense of the Seven Kingdoms."
Cersei relaxed only slightly, rubbing her temple pondering the man's proposition.
"And yet you are already on those terms with Daenerys, how am I supposed to agree to this if you have already sent your men to defend her?"
"Because you would be assuring our neutrality in your own conflict. Once the dead are taken care of, we can each return to our own areas of concern: Our people can find a way home, you two could settle your dispute with whatever means you see fit so, regardless of which of you two sits on the throne, we here can stay confident that whoever sits the Iron Throne can repay the debt paid to us. As I said earlier, it's a world for a world."
Cersei pondered for a second. His request was nothing if not reasonable; she knew she could ill afford to risk making an enemy out of these visitors. Yet the prospect sat ill with the Queen, were it not for her meeting with the Targaryen girl she may have made a powerful ally out of them, and yet the bulk of their warriors remained on their iron dragon, holding no interest in their hearts on who rules the kingdom. Even so, she could not let these renegades drift from her gaze, they may have styled themselves as men of the Watch in their lands, but there was no assurance that they would abandon their ideals the moment it suited them.
She began to sit fully straight on the throne again, her body facing rigidly towards the enigmatic visitor.
"You make a fair proposition, Commander Waterson. And I would be fair in saying that you are a honourable man, which is why you would be wise to accept what I have to say next."
"What now?"
"You say that such affairs between myself and the Targaryen pretender are beneath your notice. This is why I must say this, if you wish not to interfere in our so-called 'quarrel' then you will leave all to their fate in the battle to come; if the pretender Daenerys or Jon Snow are fated to fall in their fight with the White Walkers, then the Gods have willed it so, do not come to their aid, do not be a hero, just get your forces out of Winterfell and save yourselves."
"Well, of course, your grace. We would not be so crass as to risk all our lives on this endeavour."
"Commander, listen to me closely, I want you to say, to promise, that you will leave the Starks and Targaryens to their fate. Say these words and you may yet step into these halls."
His fists clenched, he uttered the words "I promise that I, as commander of Ex-com, will hereby leave the Targaryen host to their fate in the coming battle. Our hand may have tipped the scales of fate, but it shall not do so here." He said, his fingernails grinding along his palms.
Cersei gave a small smirk. "Thank you, Commander, I shall give the order myself to dispatch the wildfire pots north as per your agreement with the Alchemists. Of course, I will also require one of your own to stay to… mediate relations between our people."
Waterson frowned before answering. "Of course, it seems only fair that we each have representatives in each others protection to make sure things go humming along."
Cersei began again. "I'll have one of my esteemed men of the city watch join your people in-"
Waterson interjected. "There is no need, we already have someone more than willing to represent your interests in our custody."
"Ser Jaime is a traitor to the crown and a fool who abandoned the city at our time of need. You should know better than to trust the Kingslayer."
"Ummmm, I don't know about that." Waterson let a brief chuckle slip. "You should have seen him vouch for you so openly in front of both the Targaryen and the Stark girls. Actually…. Give me a second…"
He rummaged again through his pouch, returning the glass shard to his hand, Waterson then began to read from the object to the puzzlement of everyone else in the room.
"Your brother said, and I must emphasise that he did this in front of both the Stark girls and the daughter of the Mad king, and I quote, That he 'would have done everything he did again and more' and… let me just go through this transcript… Would drag himself to the seven hells and back for House Lannister.'. He doesn't strike me as treasonous to me. If anything I can't think of anything more noble. To march north to face the apocalypse to save his sister, his lover and the future of his house. Boy, that sounds like a story for the ages. Provided, of course, there will still be people to tell them." Waterson speeched.
"So what would you do with Ser Jaime if what you say is true." Cersei asked.
"Keep him fed, sheltered, in tip-top shape for the battle ahead like any respectable leader would. I'll even make sure he returns to King's Landing safe and sound once the Dead are taken care of as a gesture of goodwill towards the Crown."
"I see. Well, unless there is anything else to discuss, I should be seeing your envoys very soon. You may now leave."
"There is one more thing, I would urge you do treat our men with the same respect and care as we are for yours. Remember who we are and remember that we may be few, but the enemies of our world thought the same and are now but only an uncomfortable memory, we have more than enough to return your house to the darkened caves where your forefathers arose. And with that, I wish you a good evening, Queen Cersei of the House Lannister." Waterson said before turning back, the cold silence leaving a somber feeling to the Queen.
As the strange man began to leave the halls of the Red Keep, with every step rapidly falling into silence. Cersei soon began to exit as well, she would not allow herself audience with any other matters to address with the realm. In the weeks and months since winter had begun the city had been drained both of food and of coin, even with Highgardens coffers and the grain that Daenerys did not burn down she couldn't be certain of how long she could keep the Golden Company in her contract to keep the peace.
"Qyburn, send for Lord Boros and Euron to the council chambers." she ordered.
The Hand of the Queen soon began to exit the chambers as well, with a couple of goldcloaks quickly accompanying him along the way. As quickly as it left, silence had once again returned to the Red Keep.
Cersei sighed as she ascended the stairs of the keep. These skyfolk, she surmised, were just a new addition to the list of weird and fantastical creatures that started cropping up this year alone. First it was dragons, then it was White Walkers, would it really be surprising if a cabal of sorcerers came walking through her gates? Still, at least for now they were no threat to her, at least for now.
AUTHORS NOTE.
This part is still extremely incomplete. I have made the decision to put this project formally on hiatus, between work taking off a lot of the time allowed to make this project, the sheer scope of how I would like DoT to be and the fact that, put simply, I am not a professional writer, it has made work on A Dream of Terrors difficult, if not impossible to complete in full. Feel free to DM any suggestions for improvement (No shipping or smut suggestions) or if you would like to suggest but, until further notice, consider DoT on hold until I can have enough resources and writing chops to finish. The least I can say about how the story progresses is that things do not go well for anyone.