CERSEI
"The Queen's Plan"
"Your grace.", Qyburn asked. He had just entered her private chambers. Cersei was sitting alone at her table, enjoying a glass of wine.
"Yes?", she asked. She was annoyed at him for intruding her alone time. She used this time to think of her enemies and old memories—while drunk of course. She sat there, her hair in her golden short crown coming barely an inch below her ears. She wore a black satin dress with hints of gold and maroon fabric sewed into the shapes of spirals along the length; the sleeves were fitted along the length of her arm and on her wrists there were thick bracelets made of pure gold with red rubies atop them.
"The council meeting will be held shortly in the throne room.", he responded carefully.
"And Lord Tully?", she asked.
"I'm afraid he is not here, your grace."
"As expected. I will have to remind him of the Red Wedding. Hm.", Cersei replied. She smirked at the thought of killing the whore, Sansa's uncle. Cersei was furious to find out how useless the Boltons would turn out to be. "Ah, Qyburn—how are the revised scorpions coming along?"
"The design is coming along very nicely—with much more mobility and less reload time. In fact if the engineers complete it as expected it will allow the user to be able to shoot two spears before having to reload again."
"Yes, very nice. The Dragon whore is expected to arrive in Dragonstone in a fortnight. The nerve of her to send a raven with a parchment telling of her allegiance with Highgarden and Dorne. Nevermind that—the old cunt Olenna and the murderous bitch Ellaria will be handled with accordingly. We shall deal with Dorne first—they won't expect the crown to attack the southern-most land with haste. And my brother… I always knew since the day he tore through my beautiful mother with his wretched body, that he—he was destined to bring the end to the Lannister name. Well he'll try at least." Cersei paused and took a gulp of wine, finishing off her glass. She glanced up at Qyburn expectantly.
"Yes, that sounds nice, your grace."
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"Lord Errol, Lord Baelish, and Lord Greyjoy the crown thanks you for accepting the call.", Cersei stated with a gesture of her left hand. The three bowed and Euron stepped forward.
"Ugh um, actually I am King of the Iron Islands.", Euron stated arrogantly with a sly smirk. He noticed Cersei reposition herself in the Iron Throne making her annoyance known.
"You aren't half as smart as you are arrogant. You stand before Cersei Lannister—first of her name, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and well you know the rest. I do not acknowledge any other monarch.", Cersei responded. "Anyways I gathered you here because Westeros is in anarchy. Highgarden and Dorne lead by Olenna Tyrell and the bastard Ellaria Sand stand with the usurper, Daenerys Targaryen. House Stark lead by Sansa Stark and the bastard Jon Snow have declared independence. Meanwhile Edmure Tully refused the call and as such the crown does not have the Riverlands' forces. The crown asks you to call your banners and to preserve your resources as you will need them for the battles to come. Lord Baelish you have successfully seized control over the Vale I presume?"
Petry Baelish stepped forward with a long dark gown on as usual. "Of course, your grace. Let us say a prayer for Lord Arryn who has fallen quite ill and at such a young age."
"Hm yes. You will take a small portion of the Lannister men—2,000—to march onto Winterfell with the Knights of the Vale. Take Winterfell and it is yours. The crown will name you Warden in the North and as such I will pardon Sansa Stark. You will wed her to keep control over the North. I'm sure you will enjoy that... Oh and I have something for you waiting at Blackwater Bay.", Cersei relayed with an eye roll. She clenched the knobs on the arm rests of the throne.
"That I will, your grace. Once I have seized Winterfell that will restore another Kingdom to the seven and you will have the strength of the northernmen for the war against the Dragon Queen. I look forward to receiving whatever gift you may have for me.", he responded with a smirk.
Cersei nodded to him and smirked before glancing to her left. "Lord Errol of Storm's End, the crown asks you to take your men and to march onto the Riverlands. Remind Lord Tully that he has no option but to serve the crown. Kill his men but do not harm him. Do this and Highgarden will be taxed with providing wheat to you yearly. Do you accept?"
Lord Errol, a tall man with graying black hair stepped forward and lowered himself on one knee. "I do, your grace."
Cersei nodded again. "Lord Greyjoy the crown asks of you to sail south to Dorne with your men and to seize it. Do this and the Salt throne will have two seats."
"And Highgarden, your grace?", he asked raising a dark eyebrow.
"I will decide what to do with them on a later time. Again do you accept?", Cersei asked.
"Yes.", he relayed. Cersei grimaced at him and Qyburn proceeded to grunt. "Oh—your grace. Sorry we don't have such formalities on the islands… Well we do, but we just don't care, hehe."
"Anyways this is good. With our forces united we will restore the balance in Westeros and tear through our common enemies. I'm sure you all are wondering about what plans I have for the usurper and her three full grown dragons, so I will allow my Lord Hand to tell you.", Cersei relayed. She raised her right arm and Qyburn stepped down at her right.
"My Lords I have developed a weapon strong enough to penetrate a dragon's skull. It has a near full mobility and it shoots out two spears individually before having to reload. The scorpion is what I have named the weapon. I will send out the parts along with the instructions to you in two fortnites' time in which you will be expected to replicate them. I would advise training your men with them as Daenerys Targaryen could attack any of your Kingdoms once she breaches Westerosi soil. We must be prepared for the destruction her dragons will bring."
"We look forward to receiving these scorpions, my Lord Hand.", Petyr Baelish responded slyly.
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"Qyburn have you heard word of Jaime?", Cersei asked. She was sitting in the council room. Ser Gregor stood in the back corner of the room. Qyburn stood in front of the table.
"No, your grace. Not since the last raven. I would expect them any day now."
"Of course...", Cersei replied. She tried to hide the worry in her voice. "And the prisoner?"
"We have successfully detained Maester Tyron and he is being held below, your grace."
"Take me to him. We must know if the news is true."
The two proceeded to walk down below the throne room to the cells where the Maester was being held. He sat in the corner of a black cell, his robes torn and dirty. His once snow-white hair was now matted, greasy and a dull gray. Ser Gregor placed a torch on the outside of the cell, so Cersei could see his face. She looked at his hazel eyes and his dirty bruised face and smirked. Pathetic old man. "Ser Gregor, remove him."
Ser Gregor opened the cell and grabbed the man by his arms and slung him out of the cell. The Maester's frail body landed on the cold ground with a thump. He yelped and got on his knees before Cersei. She grimaced down at him, the dancing torch casting a sinister red glow on her face.
"Maester Tyron is it true that you kindled Loras and Margaery Tyrell back to health and you also helped them escape from King's Landing?"
"Y-yes it was necessary... You will pay for your crimes against the people. You are a monster that must be stopped and Queen Daenerys will—"
"Ser Gregor.", Cersei interrupted. She heard what she needed to know and now he had to pay. She would have the last word. Before he could complete his sentence, Ser Gregor marched forward and grabbed the man's hair. He pulled until the Maester's scalp separated from the skin on his face. He shrieked as blood poured down his face until Ser Gregpr grabbed him by his frail throat and snapped it.
"Make arrangements for Highgarden Qyburn.", Cersei stated blandly. She pulled up her gown as she stepped over his body and walked back to her corridor.
…
Next time: Cersei revels in victory. She sets her endgame for the usurper.
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