"When will I wed the prince?"
"Never. You will wed the king."
"I will be queen, though?"
"Aye. Queen you shall be... beautiful and terrible. You will be feared but never loved."
"Terrible?"
"Arrogance and greed will be your downfall. Hate will consume you and leave naught but bones."
297 AC
The prophecy has haunted Cersei ever since. Even more so when it started to come true. She indeed has not married Prince Rhaegar but instead King Robert. Was she then destined for downfall no matter what? No, she refused to believe it.
She had to make sure that she was loved, not just feared. She could be neither arrogant nor greedy. But how? Arrogance she could easily avoid if she tried, all she had to do was to assume that she did not have all the answers. She was beautiful, true, but that did not mean she was the most beautiful woman in all the Seven Kingdoms. This is why she has kept Melara close ever since that fateful day in Maggy's tent. The Hetherspoon girl was considerably below Cersei's station, which is exactly why Cersei made a point to frequently listen to her advice. That way, she could never claim to be arrogant.
But then came the problem of greed. As the daughter of a Lord Paramount and later the Queen she could have anything she wanted with ease. Gold, finest silks and the most exquisite food. Servants to cater to her every whim at any time of day and night. Was it greed or something which her station simply allowed to have?
And if so, then what was the thing she had to be denied? What must she never have, no matter how much she desires it? How to avoid being consumed by greed? At first, she simply attempted to live a more modest life. She attended the Sept frequently and even gave some attention to the impoverished smallfolk living in Lannisport. But she knew, deep down that it was all for naught. Her intentions were not pure and indeed she was not denying herself anything. She still could have everything she wanted.
She even fought against her own dislike of Tyrion and cast aside any notions of blame for their mother's death. She had to remind herself frequently that he was just a babe, a deformed one but still a babe. He had no way of killing their mother. In time, she no longer needed reminding. Tyrion became just another family member.
Just like Jaime, her other half. Him, Cersei never could deny to herself. She had to have him, she had to know his touch and to feel his warmth. She could lose everything else, but not Jaime. Never him. She would even be ready to bear his children if need be. It was then that she stopped herself. What was she even thinking? She was going to be a Queen, if she bore bastards born of incest, she would be hanged. That gave her chills which made her unable to sleep many times.
She couldn't. She just couldn't drive him away. Her brother, her lover, her other half. She could not!
"Arrogance and greed will be your downfall," echoed in her mind once more.
For a while, she suppressed these fears. Until she couldn't. Until she heard what happened. King Aerys was dead, killed by her own brother. Kingslayer they called him now. In that moment, she knew what had to be done. She spoke with her future husband and convinced him to dismiss Jaime from the Kingsguard. She could never have him. She could never feel his love again. When Jaime found out it was her who convinced Robert of this, he looked at her with eyes of utter betrayal. No words have been spoken between the two twins ever since. Jaime left with their father to Casterly Rock and she remained at King Robert's side.
The Gods had seen fit to reward her for her humility with a mostly happy marriage. Robert was a good husband, if haunted by memories of people long gone. He never strayed his eye from her to other woman. He drank heavily, which was unfortunate. However, she had convinced him that warriors do not become fat and sluggish and so when he drank he rarely ate. Instead he sparred every other day against his Kingsguard.
The Gods have rewarded them with two children. First came their first-born, a daughter she named Myrcella. She inherited her mother's beautiful face and her father's black hair and would surely grow to be a Princess to die for. Next was Tommen, their first-born son. He was strong-built like Robert and also inherited his hair, but he was fierce and quick of wit like Cersei. She would do anything for her children, even kill, cheat, steal and betray. But, so far she did not have to. Even if the damned Red Viper had traded veiled insults with her during small council meetings.
Today was a joyous occasion however. Myrcella's eleventh name day, which meant a grand feast and celebrations until dawn. But, that would happen later in the day. Currently, Cersei and her daughter were walking with Melara through the Red Keep's gardens and enjoying the smell of flowers which masked the stench of the city if only briefly. They were escorted by Ser Arys Oakheart and Ser Barristan Selmy, who always could be considered to be trustworthy and honorable enough to guard the Queen and the Princess. A messenger walked up to them. She recognized him as one of the Hand's servants, Hugh.
"Your Grace, Lord Commander, the King has called for an emergency meeting of the Small Council, he has asked your presence at once," he spoke quickly while lowering his head.
What kind of emergency could it possibly be? The Seven Kingdoms were at peace after that dreadful business with the Shrouded Lord (may his cursed soul rot in the seven hells).
"Ser Arys, escort the Princess to her chambers and ensure her safety. I shall go with Ser Barristan to see what this is all about," she commanded and as usual her command was obeyed without question.
It did not take long for Ser Barristan and her to reach the small council chambers, where they saw everyone else was already seated. Hand of the King Jon Arryn, Master of Laws Oberyn Martell, Master of Ships Stannis Baratheon, Master of Coin Leyton Hightower, Grand Maester Pycelle and Master of Whispers Varys. Last but certainly not least was naturally the King himself Robert Baratheon.
All stood to greet her, except of course Prince Oberyn.
"Your Grace, Lord Commander, welcome," began Varys, "now that we are all present, I will reveal what I have already told the King. Viserys Targaryen and three armies under him have invaded and conquered the free city of Myr where he was crowned King by the Red Faith."
295 AC
"What?"
One word, a question, and yet so many deep and hidden feelings are within it. Surprise, shock, but also anger, disappointment and hate.
"Viserys Targaryen is alive, Your Grace," repeated Varys before handing the King the letter he had received from Saelyna Adarys a day prior. The small council chambers became alive with whispers among the members and Varys studied their reactions with careful scrutiny.
Queen Cersei immediately whispered something to Ser Barristan's ear and he in turn ordered Ser Arys Oakheart to leave. No doubt to check on the royal children, as if the Targaryens were about to enter the Red Keep through the walls themselves. One day Varys would discover the truth behind the Queen's paranoid behavior. Hand of the King
Jon Arryn suddenly looked as old as every year he had lived through. The man's gray hair seemed so much grayer now. The usually hale for his age Lord no doubt was wishing he retired back to the Eyrie long time ago.
Prince Oberyn's reaction was concerning, or perhaps fortunate depending on where one stood in the great game. His face displayed nothing in particular, but his eyes betrayed a calculating look. Varys would need to have a quiet conversation with the Red Viper soon. Perhaps there still existed a chance...
Grand Maester Pycelle of course used his typical antics of pretending to be a sick, old fool. Varys still marveled that some people were tricked by the mummery, but then he himself used such trickery when it suited him. Still, perhaps a man who used words like 'preposterous' at every other matter before descending into a coughing fit shouldn't serve on the King's council?
Lord Stannis' face may have been cut stone for how locked in silent fury it was. He was rewarded with the position of Master of Ships after it was revealed that the Targaryen children perished at sea when escaping him. Now his achievement was put into question. If Viserys lived, maybe Daenerys lived as well? And if she did, who else?
Lord Leyton Hightower seemed greatly amused by the entire situation, but he hid it well. Not well enough to fool Varys, but enough to fool others. Interesting. The Tyrells had a voice on the council through him and they were loyal to the Targaryens to the very end during the rebellion. Interesting indeed. Careful and very quiet inquires would have to be made.
"Where did you get this letter, Spider?" Asked, or rather demanded the King.
"It was hand-delivered to me, Your Grace. The messenger was Essosi, from Tyroshi origin if my recognition of accents is to be trusted. No doubt I was chosen due to my own origins being Essosi. Though I remain loyal to Your Grace, the Targaryen boy may not know it," he explained carefully. King Robert seemed to accept this explanation and instead rounded on Lord Stannis.
"Now you, brother. I was led to believe the dragons were dead. You reported so yourself. Well then, let's hear it. What do you have to say?" He asked.
"Your Grace, as I've said to you on that fateful night years ago, when we reached Dragonstone we discovered that Ser Willem Darry had already escaped with Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys on a ship headed to Essos. However, after we pursued them we have found their ship burned and half-sinking. No rescue boats were missing so it was simple to assume everyone perished," finished Lord Stannis.
Varys had to admit it was a logical assumption and many would do the same were they in Lord Stannis' situation.
"Well, clearly you were wrong. Still, I do accept that given information you had at the time there was no way you could have known they survived," allowed the King.
"So what is your decision, Your Grace? Will you accept the Targaryen boy's proposal? He did after all accept your superiority and right to the throne," asked the Red Viper, already putting his plans into motion. Varys looked into his eyes and blinked once. Prince Oberyn blinked in return. Excellent.
"My first instinct is to burn the letter and send assassins after him. Jon, what say you?" The King asked his Hand.
"I say, accept it. It will raise your legitimacy if the previous dynasty bows before you. Targaryen loyalists, and we know some still are them in secret, will take it as a blow to their hidden ambitions," the Hand slowly expressed.
The King sat silently, watching them all. Moments stretched into eternity.
"Very well, draft the necessary documents for me to sign. From today onward House Targaryen is no longer Westerosi, but Essosi. Viserys Targaryen is hereby recognized as its head." He declared and stood.
And just like that, it was all over, for now. The meeting concluded every member began leaving the chamber, but Prince Oberyn seemed to take his time. Understanding the sign, Varys tarried with his walking as well. As soon as they were alone, walking towards an empty corridor, the Red Viper spoke.
"The plan changes?" He asked.
"Never, the plan remains the same. But perhaps your brother might reconsider the future of his daughter," Varys whispered in his ear before taking a turn in an entirely different direction.