Apologies for the late chapter. This was originally going to be a Jaime Chapter but about three pages in I was like... this is just boring filler! I would never that to you all again. So with the fantastic help of my beta, we have given what I wish I have done more of. CERSEI! THE MAD QUEEN!

Next chapter should be released shorter than it took for this one.

If you didn't see the note from the last chapter, Ch 1-11 have been updated and revised. I highly recommend rereading 11, the battle of the bastards. It's far better than what I first did.


Cersei

The agony of sleep was interrupted by knocking of a door. Cersei's eyes fluttered open and the fatigue of slumber lingered greatly. There was hardly any light from outside and someone had the audacity to wake her at such an hour. She attempted to roll herself up, but the captain in her bed blocked her path. Daario Naharis was decent at the very least, but his style of pleasure was like a battle he meant to conquer. He was becoming dull, but she couldn't burn him like the others.

Cersei sat herself up and pulled the furs to her when the cold of the room met her body. "Enter." She called out.

The door opened and Bernadette walked in. Although walking was too generous a word for what was more of a limp. Bloodbeard of the Company of the Cat liked to bed his women roughly and painfully. Cersei didn't care as long as he killed her enemies when the time came. "Forgive me for waking you, your Grace. You said to inform you when your scouts have returned. They arrived just an hour ago."

"And?"

Bernadette was dumbfounded with her words. "They… await for you in the small council room, your grace."

Daario began stirring as he woke up. "Should I take my leave?" He mumbled.

"Now," Cersei told him.

Daario shrugged out of the bed, fully naked in front of Bernadette without a single care. He put on his breeches began dressing the rest of himself as he left.

Cersei straightened herself in the bed. "Inform the scouts that they shall continue to wait until I arrive. Send for the other handmaidens to bathe and dress me."

"At once, your grace." Bernadette curtsied and swiftly left.

Cersei fell back down to her silk pillows and stared up at the canopy of her bed. Her blood boiled at being woken up at such an ungodly hour. She hadn't the need of scouts until the whispers from Qyburn's little birds grew less and less frequent. Whatever the reason, it shouldn't have been a problem for them. She had spies in Winterfell itself after the Starks took it back. But after word of the Wildfire attack had been carried out, her loyal bannermen and her spies had become silent. Her eyes and ears reached out only to the lands south of the capital.

The only thing that gave her any form of relief was when those who pledged themselves and their armies to her not cowardly enough to run back to their keeps or treacherous enough to bend the knee had returned to her. Three thousand men but less than half as many horses. It hardly made a difference in her number. Houses like the Lorches, the Presters, the Swyfts, they all once commanded thousands of men each. Now they hardly a single of that number.

Cersei closed her eyes and pictured her enemies in her mind. She imagined the dragon whore's body mounted on a spike and paraded naked through the streets. Her Dragons skinned of their scales and feasted upon by hounds in the kennels. The bastard of Winterfell cut in two after witnessing his babes crushed by the Mountain. Her monster brother choking to death on poison and Sansa burning alive in wildfire. They will all burn in an ocean of beautiful green flames.

She shuffled out of bed and poured herself a glass of wine while she waited for her handmaidens to tend to her. She walked out to the windows and looked out. It was snowing again. The rooftops of King's Landing were covered in white. The whole city looked cold and empty.

She drank into her cup as her body shivered. She hardly felt the cold, she hardly but anger felt anything these days. The only times she did feel were when news of the Targaryens getting closer angered her. The only thing that could bring her out of that was the pleasure of dealing with those that dared to whisper their support for such usurpers.

The handmaidens finally arrived and hurried in their work to prepare their queen. All of them worked without a single error. They feared what would befall them if they did not please or slacked in their efforts.

One of them presented her with her morning dose of Moon Tea. Cersei wouldn't let some sellsword's bastard or any for that matter to be planted in her. No, the only child that would grow again would be from the only one who deserved to have their seed quickened in her. Once all of this was over and the Targaryens were dead, he would come back to her. She knew he would. But if he didn't, she wouldn't let him run from her again. She would chain him down and make him hers.

Cersei thought back to the days long before any of this, back when she was just an idiot girl who believed her father would give her whatever she asked. He promised her Rhaegar and it wasn't to be. He was given a Martell bitch before tossing her aside for a Stark whore who couldn't close her legs.

Rhaegar should have been hers. He could have if she hadn't let her father get in the way. If she had done things herself she would have been to a man greater than Robert could have ever been.

But in the end, Rhaegar was just as mad as his father. Her children being spared silver hair and violet eyes was a blessing. Her children were true royalty that deserved a thousand thrones. They all would have risen higher than any dragon could hope to fly. If only… if only her father hadn't gotten near them. He couldn't save Joffrey, he wouldn't let Myrcella come home, and he didn't kill Tyrion when he had the chance and died. Leaving Tommen open for fanatic peasants.

Scrubbed clean and dressed, Cersei was wrapped in a black cloak of wolf fur. She planned to have the bastard's direwolf skinned into a new one when all was won.

She walked through the halls to the throne room, escorted only by the Mountain and two others of her Queensguard. The other four awaited in the small council room for her.

Everything in the castle was so quiet. Only footsteps echoed where whispers and gossip once had. All for the better. The less of prattling of nobles and other fools at court the better. They were all just belligerent idiots trying to suckle at their queen's teats in hopes she will mother them.

Cersei entered the small council room to see a group of three men standing by the table. Qyburn awaited by his seat and bowed when she entered. "Your grace."

The omen took notice of her entrance and bowed as well.

Cersei took her seat and Qyburn took his after her. "What have you to report that could not wait until daylight?"

The tallest of them stepped forward. He was the most rugged of them with battle-worn armor and a shaggy black beard. "Apologies, your grace. We would've waited if it were somethin' else but it concerns your brother, Ser Jaime."

Cersei's interest peaked. "Go on."

"A squad of our men was killed scoutin' de Riverlands more than a fortnight ago. One escaped and said he spotted your brother with three others. A man with a half-burned face, a girl with a wolf bigger than a fuckin' horse and the tallest woman he's ever seen." By the descriptions given, it had to be the Hound, Arya Stark, and that cow of a woman Brienne of Tarth. "They weren't with their army. They were all alone and heading west. Only thing he managed to pick up from a listen was they're coming here."

"Obviously. The most important war in history will be at our doorstep and those traitors are not cowards of battle."

"No, but why are they away from their army?" Qyburn asked. "The Targaryens have named Ser Jaime as Lord of Casterly Rock and the Westerlands. Should their sworn sword not be leading his army with them?" He had a point. What could her brother be doing if not be with his declared usurper of a king? There was nothing in the Westerlands that could bring him there. Casterly Rock was empty of anything useful, every soldier was gone. But what about his company? The wench of Tarth was no surprise. She clung to her like a lost pup. But the Hound hated the Lannister family almost as much as the little wolf bitch. But the sellsword did report that they said they were coming here. They were coming for her.

"Qyburn."

"Yes, your grace?"

"Have your experiments proved to be fruitful?"

"Almost as much as Ser Gregor. They do not have his strength, however." The sellswords kept their mightiest in check and out of Cersei's grip, but Qyburn's little birds found many worthy candidates for her new force of soldiers. Men who wouldn't feel pain or fatigue. Wounds wouldn't be a bother and neither would blood. She had this plan set in motion after witnessing the wight at the Dragonpit. If the White Walkers army was so powerful with soldiers like that, then she needed one too. Unfortunately, it wasn't near as many as she wanted. Only a dozen or so were strong enough to withstand the procedure.

"That will be enough. I want them stationed in the Red Keep as soon as they're ready."

"I shall work until they are beyond your expectations, your grace. I need a day more and what they shall wear and wield."

Qyburn was the most loyal and providing of her servants. If he needed a day, then so be it. She would not rush his work at the cost of possible failure. She couldn't let anything like that happen at such a crucial moment before the fate of two dynasties would be chosen.

Cersei smirked as she eyed the scouts. "The abilities your men have are incredible, but not enough that they cannot enter the encampments of the Targaryens?"

"They've tried, grace. They get close but then the same thing's happened every time. The connection with the beasts are severed and some of 'em even get caught. One of our boys got the closest than anyone else. Before he could really see anything, his owl was surrounded by a flock of ravens."

"Ravens," Cersei stated.

"Much like the reports of Brandon Stark." Qyburn reminded. "He is, as the reports have said, the most powerful in that area of ability."

"It seems the cripple has woken up. This will affect the battle greatly. He may perceive our strategies and traps we've laid."

"If he's with the Targaryens army, then they have most likely already devised a strategy. We'll just have to do the same now that we know."

"That's another thing, your grace." The man said. He stood nervously before continuing on. "We were caught on our way back here and brought before the King himself. He didn't question us much or interrogate anything. He just seized our weapons and sent us back here with a message."

Cersei unconsciously balled her fists. Her nails dug into the skins of her palms. "What did the bastard have to say?"

The sellsword pulled out a parchment and handed it to her. It was sealed with the Targaryen sigil of course.

Cersei broke the seal and unraveled the scroll and read aloud what was written.

"Cersei of House Lannister, Queen of King's Landing

"I, Aegon Targaryen, write to ask that we meet for a parley upon my arrival at King's Landing. You will hear my terms of your surrender in person and those who have pledged themselves to you. I invite you with the promise of protection into my camps. You and your followers will come unarmed and will refrain from any hostilities. Any treachery while under my protection shall be met with Fire and Blood. I shall host you at twilight of the day after our arrival.

Aegon of House Targaryen, son of Rhaegar of House Targaryen and Lyanna of House Stark."

Cersei crumpled the message in her hand. "That pretentious boy, thinking a bastard can be called a king."

"There is also a letter fr-from the Hand of the Queen, Lord Tyrion Lannister." He hurried to hand her the message.

Cersei nearly ripped this one unraveling it. She read it silently to herself.

-To the Mad Queen, I once had to call sister

I believe such a parley is futile with you, yet the true King has ignored my council. I would have you killed the moment you set foot near hear and end this all for good. You have destroyed our house more than will acknowledge, As such, I would like to say, it is in the best interest that you meet with us. In the end, you are still my sister and I do not want to see any more of our blood spilled. There are few of us remaining. I owe a debt for the children you have lost because of me, and I repay it by convincing the King to allow you to live out your days.

Sincerely, the Imp of Casterly Rock and Hand to the King and Queen-

She was seething as she tore the parchment into pieces. That little monster would dare to accuse her of his crimes against her family. When all was won, she would have Qyburn take his time killing him. It would be where the people could see. Where she could enjoy all of it. "The crown thanks you for your service and when the war is won you shall be rewarded for your bravery. Send a reply to the Targaryen bastard. The Crown accepts his invitation for a parley."

"Are you sure, your grace?" Qyburn asked. "It could be a trap."

"No, he is still Ned Stark's bastard at heart. The fool won't go against his word. Even if he does, you know what to do." She glared at the men still here and watched them scurry out of the room. Now alone, Cersei turned to Qyburn. "A scout that cannot remain hidden is useless." She tapped her fingers on the table as she thought about her situation. "I suppose even my mercy and generosity wasn't enough for Ned Stark's Bastard. I offered him his kingdom and instead, he comes greedily for the rest."

"Indeed, your grace, " Qyburn said with an agreeing smirk.

"He'll want my head, no doubt. If the cripple is with him, then they'll know that the wildfire is still beneath the city."

"Most likely. However, as long as it remains, we have leverage against any action they take. Only a single false move and they shall watch the land be swallowed by fire and smoke. My little birds have had a bit more success now that they mustn't go very far from home. The Targaryens have no siege weapons and not the time nor the means to build any when they arrive. They will desire a final battle." He grew silent after that. "But… there is a problem, your grace."

Cersei arched her brow. She wasn't surprised at all.

"The castle larders are completely empty. The fishermen have nearly depleted the bay of any game and our raids from the Reach will not return in time."

"Then we have no choice. We must face the Targaryens and meet them in battle. We only need to adjust our course of strategy."

Qyburn nodded and bowed, leaving Cersei's presence. She moved to the table and poured herself another cup of wine, downing it in one gulp before refilling it and turning back to the table. The message from the Northern bastard lay there and, though wrecked from her rage, still legible enough for her to make the last line. Son of Rhaegar of House Targaryen and Lyanna of House Stark. The very words mocked her.

It was still unbearable to her thinking of Rhaegar with the wolf-bitch. And where had it led her? In the end, she died, leaving her whelp to be bastardized by his uncle?

She thought back to those days, after the rebellion. Robert had been crowned and her father was brokering a marriage for her. "Queen you shall be", Tywin Lannister had declared and he never went back on his word. She'd actually be pleased initially and eager to provide heirs to Robert Baratheon. But he held out, waiting for Ned Stark to return with his sister. Robert would have married her even if she had been taken against her will. And the day when the Northerners returned, Stark and the little Crannogmen, Robert had thrown himself upon the box holding her bones.

Cersei had tried to be there, soothe his pain, but she had seen three whores enter his room on that nightfall. It hadn't mattered, at the time. Kings were expected to him mistresses and Robert already had a bastard, that she knew. Yet Robert continued to mourn, almost demanding a funeral in the Great Sept, but Stark had refused, preferring his tree gods to the splendor of the Faith.

She was happy to see them go back North. Almost as soon as they left the Red Keep, her father had gone to Robert and secured the marriage. The ceremony took place a fortnight later, with all the lavishness you would see at a royal wedding, especially one paid for with Lannister gold.

Her marriage, however, died that night, in bed, as Robert screamed Lyanna's name in the throws of passion.

The next morning, she actually wondered what it was that attracted men to Lyanna Stark. How had she bewitched not one, but two, so that they'd choose her, dour-faced and pale, to the Cersei's own golden beauty? And now the fruit of that sinful union was back to torment her.

No, she resolved. They would not win. The she-wolf would not win from the grave. Her bastard would only set foot in the throne room to the heat of wildfire.

The leading Sellsword captains entered the room, all of them hulking with furs and reeking of the stench beer and ale.

Harry Strickland took a seat at Cersei's left, across from Qyburn. Next to him sat Blood Beard and Illorno of the Long Lances. All the way across from Cersei sat Daario Naharis.

"We've heard the news from the scouts." Blood Beard growled. His voice was like that of a great bear.

"I suspected you did. The Targaryens are nearly here and so is the war. Are you growing afraid of the dragons and the Dothraki?" Cersei asked.

"I've a cloak of half a hundred Dothraki braids I've taken myself. I revel at the challenge."

"Good. Because before that, we have another problem that must be first addressed. Qyburn, have your little birds heard the whispers of those who shouldn't have?"

"Indeed, your grace."

"Excellent. Inform the captains and their men. It's time to root out the vipers trying to climb out of the pit."

While Qyburn informed the captains of the tasks, Daario approached Cersei. "Are you sure this is a wise move?"

"Didn't your whore queen do the same thing in Essos to the masters?"

"Aye, but that was against slavers. This is just ruling by fear. It's not far off from your Mad King!"

Cersei's blood flared up at being compared to Aerys Targaryen. "Is that what you think I am doing? The Mad King burned people alive to amuse himself. I am cleansing the city of those that would undermine me." By the time she had finished, Harry Strickland entered the conversation.

"So wouldn't it be wiser to give the people a trial instead of this? Or throw them into the black cells?"

Cersei scoffed at that suggestion. "We don't have time for trials. The armies of the bastard are going to be upon us soon. If we wait, surely their spies will infiltrate the city and convince them to rise up against me. No, it must needs be done this way, and soon."

Cersei strode into the throne room with all her grace. She sat down onto the Iron Throne where she belonged and nodded to the guard at the doors. They swung open and members of the court began pouring in. There were not many as before with winter settled in.

After all of them were a row of people in chains escorted by the City watch. There were men and women both young and old, even a little brown haired girl no older than ten.

They were all brought before Cersei and forced to kneel. Many of them had looks of absolute fear about them while the few others had anger. One of them did so much as to look directly at Cersei as if he was about to challenge her. With only a single glance to one of the guards, the man was beaten across the face by the steel of a gauntlet.

Cersei lifted her head high and address the members of the court. "Before you are those who would conspire to submit to the seed of the Mad King and betray their rightful queen. Such acts cannot go without punishment." Cersei's gaze found the little girl. Her face was red from tears. "Bring that one forward," Cersei ordered.

Two Gold Cloaks unchained the girl and forced her to be directly in front of Cersei.

"What is your name, little one?" Cersei asked with a honeyed voice.

"M-Maryne."

"Your grace " Qyburn informed the girl politely.

"Maryne, your grace."

"And why is it you were brought before me?"

"I was only playing with my friends! They were slavers and I was the dragon queen. It was just a game." The girl slithered into herself almost to try and hide from everyone.

Cersei smirked at that. Such a peasant had no will in the court of royalty. "Just a game. And my guards saw fit to arrest you for that? How idiotic of them." The girl looked up at Cersei with hope flickering in her red eyes. "Tell me, what do you know of Daenerys Targaryen? What stories have you heard?"

"Um… well… she freed the slaves in Essos, she fought the White Walkers in the North, and how she can walk through fire without being burned. That's why she's called the Unburnt."

Cersei smiled down at her. "Such stories. We live in an age where the most unthinkable of things are becoming possible. Isn't it marvelous?"

The girl nodded shyly.

"Incredibly so. But wouldn't a girl like you rather play with her toys?"

"I don't have any, your grace. That's why I like playing pretend."

Cersei looked the little girl over. Her hair that could be seen from under the dirty and lice, was pitch black, about as far as one could get from Myrcella's golden locks. "Well, that's no good. A little girl like you should have the pleasure of such joys as toys. Even grownups still do. Ours are just a little more different than little wooden soldiers or dolls. Men like to play with swords and horses and fight each other. Women like to play with needles and thread. Does your mother like to sew, little one?"

The little girl shook her head. "She died after I was born. I live with my daddy. He doesn't know I'm here. Can I go home please, your grace?"

Cersei smiled down at her. "I would first like to apologize for the misunderstanding. Why don't you stay for an hour and we shall have you clean and repay for your trouble? I'll see to it that your father is told of your whereabouts."

The little girl attempted a curtsy but it was a pitiful thing to see. "Thank you, Queen Cersei."

One of the handmaidens came to retrieve the little girl. "Please see that a warm bath is drawn for this sweetling, " she ordered before turning back to Maryne. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? A bath, nice and warm."

The girl nodded eagerly and the two of them left the throne room into the innermost part of the castle. Cersei nodded to one of the sellswords and he followed them.

Cersei turned to Qyburn. "Find out where her father is and have him brought to Red Keep tonight. I will want him to join his daughter this evening."

"Yes, your grace."

She turned back to the remaining prisoners. "The rest of those accused are guilty and sentenced to execution by Ser Illyn Payne. Their heads shall decorate the walls of the city as a reminder to those who would support usurpers leading armies of traitors and foreign savages."

The throne room echoed with pleas for mercy as the gold cloaks dragged the accused out. The nobles of the court remained silent as they should. When the noises were gone, Cersei addressed those who listened. "Any others still hiding in the city shall be rooted out and suffer the same fate. And it shall start in this very room." Cersei nodded to her captains and all of them and a select few of their men began moving on the nobles in court.

Noblemen and women screamed out as spears were plunged into their bodies and blades ran across their throats.

Those that were spared such justice ran from areas being covered in blood in absolute horror. Some even could not contain their disgust and vomited on the floors of the Throne Room.

Cersei didn't blank at all as it happened and she didn't shut out the screams and sounds of flesh being sliced by steel. It was such a release to watch as traitors were given what they deserved.

When the last of the bodies fell, everyone who could only watch the brutality happen silently looked at the bodies that littered the throne room.

Some of the other captains had entered after the slaughter, Daario Naharis and Harry Strickland among them. Both of them were unfazed but had a look of turmoil in their eyes as they walked past all the blood and bodies. Harry had left the room entirely without a word but Daario merely went off to the side to observe what would happen next. He climbed onto one of the window seals to watch from a vantage point.

Cersei sat tall when all eyes fell on her for the same question. "You may be asking, why has this been done? If dragons do not burn the city down, then its walls will be breached by Unsullied and traitorous soldiers. Women and children will be enslaved and raped by Dothraki heathens. The monsters of children's stories are coming for us all. And these were the people who would serve you up to them all."

"They're not coming." Daario Naharis called out the court. He was leaning against one of the windows with his head poking up just above the opening. He had a smirk about his face as he looked to the outside. "They're here."

Almost on cue, several of her House's bannermen still loyal to her ran into the room. "Your grace!" one of them called as they rushed into the room. But they all halted and were speechless at the scene before them. When they gave Cersei the same look that the nobles did, she only glared at him.

"Do you have something to report?" She asked as if nothing had even happened that mattered.

"Your grace, the dragons have been spotted flying in the distance."

The entire court began to murmur and whisper among themselves.

Cersei kept herself regal and in form. "Call every man of the City Watch. Man the defenses and prepare to protect the city."

The men all bowed before rushing back out where they came.

"We are adjourned for today," Cersei announced. "Return to your homes and take shelter from those that would seek to rob you of that and everything else you hold dear."

After adjourning the court, she had the sellsword carry the girl back into the throne room to give her the bath that was promised. He held her as Qyburn prepared the pyre that would be lit. When that had been done, she watched in awe as the green flames licked the girl's skin and reveled in the screams. Cersei saw from the side of her sight the horror on the face of Daario, but he never turned away.

After it was over, they had gone back to her apartments. It hadn't been their usual lovemaking, but it was satisfactory enough. Afterward, mercifully, he had remained silent and fallen off to sleep next to her. It was a few hours later that the father had been brought to her and shown his daughter's ashes. As he sobbed and fell to the ground, begging to have his child back, she obliged him.

With the hour of twilight drawing near, it was time for Cersei to leave. She dressed in her best black dress and wore a thick cloak with the pelt of a grey wolf. She was escorted by Ser Gregor and her Queensguard out of the keep to the carriage waiting for her with Daario riding beside her.

As they neared the portcullis, Cersei smirked as she caught a glimpse of the heads being mounted on spikes and the small burned corpse being hung next to her father's from the battlements.

The carriage ride went smoothly over the snow-covered roads. It was almost like it was gliding. There were a few times it got stuck but it wasn't anything too serious. Other than that, the only enjoyable thing about being out of the city was being away from the smell of shit. It felt good to breathe in fresh air once again.

It was a long journey. Cersei was smart to leave as early as she did. The hours passed by until finally, the carriage came to a halt. They had arrived. She stepped out of the carriage and was surprised to see two columns of Unsullied soldiers forming a pathway to the location of the parley. They stood two by two. The inner soldiers facing inward and the outer facing outward.

Waiting to greet her and her entourage was a man she recognized from the Dragonpit. He was one of the men in the bastard's company rather than the dragon whore's. Behind him were twenty Dothraki and the sellsword Tyrion was friends with, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater.

"Greetings, your grace." The man spoke. "I am Ser Davos Seaworth, sworn advisor to the King. I am here to escort you to him."

Ser Bronn stepped forward. "We'll be taking your weapons first."

Cersei glared knives at him. Another traitor she would punish individually. "And Why should allow you to disarm my guard and those sworn to me?"

"Because the King's the one who promised your protection and not anybody else."

Ser Davos cleared his throat. "I'm sure your grace wouldn't have made the journey if you had doubts. Your men will accompany you as they are sworn to just as our King will have his own."

This pisswater knight was a perceptive one. She remembered him now as the Hand of the King to Stannis Baratheon. Stannis was a seasoned man and dominant leader, there was no denying it. To have someone as such as his Hand meant that this man was not a bumbling fool like half the lot in history who had the job.

Cersei turned to her men and nodded. Her Queensguard and the Sellsword leaders all began to undo their sword belts and handing over their other weapons to the Dothraki savages. Ser Bronn stepped up to her and eyed her suspiciously. "That includes you too, your grace."

Cersei smirked at him for noticing. She pulled at the buckle of her belt and unsheathed the hidden blade concealed within. She gave it to Ser Bronn he stepped back and began inspecting the others.

He gave each one a good look before moving on to the other. "They're all clean." He announced and nodded to Ser Davos.

"Everythin's in order. Right this way." But as Cersei and her men followed Ser Davos, Daario Naharis was stopped by Ser Bronn.

"What?" Daario asked. "I gave you my weapons like everyone else."

Ser Bronn reached his hand into the back of Daario's clothes and pulled out a dagger with the hilt of a naked golden woman.

Daario smirked at him. "I'll want that back. I like that dagger."

One sellsword matched the other in smirks. "Aye, it is a fine bit of arse and tits on this one. When this is over, I'd actually like to hear where you acquired it. Might want to get one of my own." With that, he looked back to Ser Davos and nodded once again.

Cersei contained her anger at Daario's idiocy. If he had been found with that after being permitted he would have lost his head. If Not by the bastard then by her for being such a fool.

The entire walk was silent. The only sounds that were made were from beyond where they were. Sounds of steel ringing and horses neighing. Besides the Unsullied and the two knights, there was no one in sight. Most likely they were not permitted to be near in case anyone got the idea of being a hero to the usurpers they called king and queen.

Shortly though, they all came to a large tent. Standing by the entrance with the unsullied were two giants with armor made of wood and iron. One of them growled at her group and made a few flinch.

"Best not to stare." Ser Davos advised. "They get angry when you do. And a fist from them can pound you into the ground like a nail." The flaps of the entrance were opened by two unsullied and Everyone began to pour in.

The space was void of any furniture except for chairs and tall candlesticks. The light was dim but enough that the shadows were repelled from the tent. The chairs form two half circles that were spaced apart so they did not connect into a full circle.

Cersei did her best to keep herself composed. She fought her emotions as she beheld the bastard dressed more glorious than she. That pitiful crown he wore at the Dragonpit was replaced by a crown of Valyrian Steel and rubies, the crown of Aegon the Conqueror. To add to that, he wore Valyrian steel armor decorated with dragons and direwolves. The leather straps of his cloak were stamped with the direwolf of House Stark. Beside him on his left was Ser Jorah Mormont in a set of armor and a cloak as white as the snow that the rest of the Targaryen Kingsguard wore and on the right was that freakish white direwolf of his. The red eyes of the beast stared deep into her.

Cersei looked at him, really looked at him for perhaps the first time. He had the Stark traits of the long faces and the dark hair, but at that moment, the light from the candles hit his eyes in such a way that they looked indigo. It was that almost otherworldly Targaryen color, the same as Prince Rhaegar's. And that face, the one full of such sadness, brought back her memories. It always broke her heart. She was transported back, oh so briefly, to when she was young and would dream of taking away his pain. He would be sitting on the Iron Throne, wearing that magnificent crown of steel and rubies and she would be at his side.

This was the son she had yearned to give Prince Rhaegar, yet he was from another woman. She took a breath, to compose herself. This was his son even if every part of her still couldn't accept it.

What would her father say to this sight? Not even he would be able to stand tall against this presence.

She saw Tyrion there, catching her expression. She swore to herself. The look that he was giving her told of the fact of what she was thinking. His gaze fell upon the bastard then back to her, a look of, was that sadness? No, it was pity. That monster had the audacity to think he could just give her such?

The foreign woman who had been standing to the side of Tyrion stepped forward in view of all of them. "You stand before Aegon of the House Targaryen, the Sixth of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of Westeros and Protector of the Realm. The Father of the Night Dragons, the White Wolf, the Winter Dragon, The Sword of the Evening, The Slayer of the Night King."

There was a moment of silence for each guest to absorb the many titles and the essence of the bastard decorating himself as a king. She flashed him a smile. "Let us remember, Lord Snow, that I am the one sitting on the Iron Throne."

"But how many kingdoms are sworn to that throne?" Tyrion asked. "Because by my count, the seven ruling lords of the seven kingdoms have bent the knee to the rightful king and queen."

If Cersei held something in her hands, it would shatter at her vice-like clench. "As long as the throne is mine, I am the queen."

He gave her one of his looks that he would before saying something clever. "For being the one to always say you listened to Father, you seem to have forgotten his greatest lesson. 'Any man who has to say 'I am the King' is no true king'. The only thing the man standing before you ever declared himself as was being a bastard."

"That's enough, Lord Tyrion," the bastard said. "We invited you here to discuss an end to the war, be it by words or bloodshed. I'd rather keep the hostilities for tomorrow if that's how it shall be." He walked next to his designated seat and stood by. "Shall we begin?"


Whenever I read that last bit, I hear Eggs Benedict Cumberbatch from Star Trek as Khan, Shall we Begin?

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