"What are we to do given the current circumstances, your Grace?"
"And what exactly would those circumstances be, Lord Varys? You are the one who called this meeting yet you have yet to explain why it is needed."
Of course, she knew what it was in relation to. The spectacle that had occurred a matter of days ago. Betrayal deep within that her precious boy had gone back on his words to her. They had made an agreement for Lord Eddard to take the Black and join his wretched bastard and all the other criminals of the realm where he belonged for daring to say such filth openly. Not that there was a lie within his words, but her Joff deserved to be the King he was born and raised to be. Just picturing his golden locks with an ornate golden crown atop. A sight that had become a reality when they had worked to crown him only hours after the death of her drunkard husband.
At one point, Cersei had been the happiest woman alive. Whilst she didn't get the man she had been told since she was nought but a little girl at Casterly Rock, everything else had gone as her father had planned. She had come out of the war alive, married to the handsome new King, had acquired the title of Queen and any son she had would inherit the Iron Throne afterwards. She remembered it well, being escorted into the Great Sept of Baelor high atop Visenya's Hill and seeing the tall, muscled, dark-haired King awaiting her so they could be bound as one in the eyes of the Seven who are One. He had wined and dined her, had complimented her, had even spun her golden curls around his fingers whilst remarking it truly did look like someone had shaved tiny strands of solid gold and attached it to her head. But then King Robert had a fifth glass of wine, and a tenth, and a fifteenth. When it came time for the bedding he had been so drunk there was no more warmth in his actions or voice.
And then he had mentioned that whores name. Lyanna. The woman Robert was supposed to marry but had disappeared with Prince Rhaegar. Robert had started a war to get her back in his grasp, claim her as his. Yet she had died and Cersei had taken the Northern bitches place. That was the moment she knew she was always second to her husband, it was a fact she did not like and had a bitter taste in her mouth. Focusing on the meeting at hand.
"Will the King be joining us, your Grace?"
"The King is currently occupied with other tasks, my Lord. I am still his Regent, and therefore by law I am permitted to speak with the King's words."
He smiled her way at that, feeling bile broil within her. She'd never liked Varys, but he was too dangerous to let out of her sight.
"Unfortunately my words bring bad tidings, your Grace."
If only he would just get on with it. She had no time for word games. Bringing the glass filled with Arbor Gold to her lips and savouring the fruity yet sour taste on her tongue.
"It is with the deepest sorrow that Robb Stark has imprisoned Ser Jaime."
The glass fell from her hand. Glass shattering and wine flowing like fresh blood on the table.
"Surely you jest, Lord Varys. Robb Stark is a child, my brother is Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Are you trying to tell me a boy of sixteen capable of such? Anyway, my father would've been there to stop it."
"I believed the information false myself, your Grace. However, I have checked with all my birds and every one of them are singing the same tune. Robb Stark sent a small force to trick Lord Tywin into the open so the majority of his army could surround Ser Jaime. And he succeeded in doing so."
No. It couldn't be true. Jaime wouldn't be so stupid as to allow a boy to capture him. He was her other half, her twin, the man she loved with all her heart and the father of her children. They had come into the world as one, the Maester at Casterly Rock always said when they had been pulled from her mother she had been gripping his foot and when pried apart she had cried over the loss. And her father! The almighty Tywin Lannister being outwitted by a child?! The thought of such a thing was blasphemous. It was all lies, it had to be? Yet as she looked at the bald man who had come to Kings Landing from Lys however many years ago, she saw no sign of a lie. He had simply stated a fact. And it was a fact with dire consequences.
"Grand Maester, you are to send a raven to my father at once so we can prepare our next moves- "
"Before you do so, your Grace, there is one more thing. Well, a few more things but all of the same nature."
She snapped her fingers and a moment later Bernadette ran over with a new glass already filled with Arbor Gold. Taking a longer sip than she usually did and not savouring the taste this time. Simply enjoying the burning sensation in her throat which was burning with anger already. No one prays on a lion, the lion is the one who plays with its food. As her father would always say- a lion does not concern itself with the opinions of a sheep. The wolves would be put in their place one way or another.
"The North and the Riverland's have proclaimed Robb Stark as the first King in the North in three centuries."
Once again she dropped the glass. Bernadette running over to begin cleaning the mess as she stood up in anger. Lips pulled apart in a snarl at the insult.
"Joffrey is King."
"The North and the Riverland's do not accept him as King."
"Yet he is King. He is the previous King's oldest son, by law he is the King. The High Septon blessed him in the seven oils and he is the one that sits on the Iron Throne. The oaths are Lord of the seven Kingdom's. Not Lord of five Kingdom's- "
"Many minor Crownland's Lord's have named Stannis as King as have a couple of Reach Lord's. The remainder of the Reach and the Stormland's have proclaimed Renly as their King. The youngest stag has taken the Lady Margaery to wife."
No. This could not be happening. Westeros by rights was her sons, her precious boy deserved everything and more. Her golden lion, her son, her first son. She recalled then just how small he was when he had been pulled from her, the way her heart had burst when he was placed on her chest all red-faced and squalling his lungs out. Yet in a matter of minutes everything had come crashing down. The Stormland's, the North, the Riverland's, the Crownland's, the Reach. Neither were willing to accept her wonderful boy's birth right? Joff was a good King, a just King. She knew with the correct guidance he would have a reign that would span decades.
"Bernadette, send for my son urgently. He is to drop everything he is doing, no questions asked."
The black haired woman bowed her head and scurried from the room. There was a stink coming from her that almost made her wrinkle her nose, knowing where it was coming from as she had sent her to try and get word out of the red-haired whelp. The younger one had escaped her claws, something she was adamant would never be spoken aloud. If her father found out he would be roaring so loud in her face she would be nothing but a cub. She was Queen- well, Queen mother really. And a Queen stands tall above all her subjects. She'd be damned if Sansa Stark escaped her claws too. Another servant walked over with another glass, timidly handing it to her and visibly flinching as she snatched it from her hands. Taking deep breaths and sipping in the way expected of a highborn. She was Cersei Lannister, and she was a lion like her love, mother, and father. Although not Tyrion, the wretched little shit was the biggest insult to House Lannister since her grandfather had still been alive. Because of him she was without a mother, and that was something she would never forgive nor would she ever forget.
"Then we must work to put these rebels in their place. What gives them the right to proclaim such a thing?"
It was Lord Baelish who answered her now, the smirk he was giving her one she liked nought one bit. The leech made Varys look trustworthy, which was an achievement in itself but not one to be proud of. An up-jump from nothing but a tower in the Fingers who had gotten incredibly lucky by knowing the right people and how to use them for his own benefit. Climbing the ladder evermore and he showed no signs of slowing in his quest.
"For the Northers and the Riverlander's, it is because they do not wish to bend their knee to the man who took the beloved Eddard Stark's head. For the Baratheon brothers, it is because they believe themselves the rightful heirs. They are convinced that our beloved Robert did not father your children, your Grace."
"Lies. Vicious lies spread by Lord Eddard to seize the throne for himself."
Someone at the table coughed, but she had no idea who it was. Never would she say there was truth to the statement.
"And where pray tell me, my Lord, do my wonderful goodbrother's get such a notion? Lord Stannis has been simmering in Dragonstone for nearing a year and Lord Renly has not been seen since the day my dearest husband arrived back at the Red Keep."
A couch again, noticing now it had been Pycelle who had done so. Lips tightening as she stared at the grey rat. Cersei trusted Maester's nought, but they were better kept close than afar. Plus he was loyal to her, there was no doubting that. So whilst she still had use of him she would entertain him.
"They claim there is no possibility his Grace can be King Robert's. Stating there has never been a Baratheon who did not have black hair and blue eyes."
"Lies of course, there is documentation of one time this was not the case. The daughter of Prince Aemon and Lady Jocelyn is recorded as having black hair streaked heavily with silver with violet eyes."
Thank you Varys. The words would never be spoken, but she was glad he had interjected with such a statement. She herself had not known this, but now that she did she would cling to it like her life depended on it. Where was her son? Quite some time had passed since she had sent Bernadette to fetch him. Perhaps he was on the opposite side of the castle or was elsewhere in the city and was simply taking a lot of time to find. He had Ser Meryn and Sandor Clegane with him, he was well protected wherever he was.
"When the King arrives we will discuss appropriate moves. My brother will be freed from the wolf and these rebels will step down with swallowed prides. If they do not, then they anger the crown. As a result, the crown will have to make a stand- "
She was cut off by Bernadette running inside, panting heavily which confirmed she had sprinted here. Standing up to greet her inside alongside her son. Yet she walked in, and her son wasn't there.
"You were ordered to summon my son, Bernadette- "
"You had best come quickly, your Grace. The servants in the Holdfast have made a grim discovery."
At this, her brows furrowed. That did not answer her question at all. It hadn't even been a question, a statement more like. Despite them being close the black haired woman knew she was not of a similar standing as Cersei herself was. She was a lowborn, a cousin nearing a dozen times removed and had no features that were known of the Lannister's. She had followed from Casterly Rock as her Handmaiden but had instead become Sansa's Handmaiden so she could keep tabs on the wolf bitch.
"I am sure it can be said aloud. Where is my son?"
By now, she was stood at the opposite side of the table. Standing tall and staring her straight in the eye. Something that made her slightly uncomfortable.
"It is with the deepest condolences that I speak such words, your Grace. King Joffrey has been found on the spikes surrounding the Holdfast."
Once again, the glass fell and shattered. But this time no one dared to clean the mess up. The others at the table stood up in shock as the words sank in. No. It could not be. Her boy. Her precious boy. Her golden lion.
"Where is Ser Meryn and Sandor Clegane?"
Bernadette winced at this, feeling just how angry she was as it began to seep into her. Her boy. It could not be true.
"Where is Ser Meryn and Sandor Clegane?! Take me to them immediately! And where is my son?!"
She said nothing, simply bowing her head and walking from the room, gesturing for her to follow. Tears were brimming in her eyes, feeling like something heavy had landed on her chest and was caving in her ribs. It could not be true, she refused to believe it. Her boy was going to have a prosperous reign and hundreds of years from now Maester's would write on how glorious his reign had been. He would be looked back on with reverence and would be known as the Golden King. That was how it was supposed to be. Despite this, she forced the tears away as she refused to show any weakness in company. A lion does not concern itself with the opinions of a sheep. She was led into a room where there were a lot of servants within. There was a puddle of vomit on the ground where someone had emptied their lunch, scrunching her nose up in disgust at such an insult. There was blood too, a lot of blood. Spots dotting from the opposite side of the corridor inside and to the bed.
"Where is Ser Meryn and Sandor Clegane?"
A servant bowed their head, one she did not know the name of.
"Ser Meryn was not at the scene, your Grace. He was found numerous corridors away and is currently being held in White Sword Tower. Sandor Clegane is nowhere to be found."
"Leave us."
None of them even so much as dared refuse the order. All scurrying from the room and only once everyone was out did she waiver. Tears brimming her eyes again but she would not let them fall, not until she saw it for herself. The first step was hard, the second harder. Getting closer and closer to the bed until the stench of fresh blood clogged her nostrils. There was so much of it, and there was a faint aroma of death. Oddly sweet it was, yet absolutely vile at the same time. And then she took him in. She could see the holes where the spikes had punctured him, the gaping hole where his eye being what caused her to crack. A scream so loud erupted from her throat her ears began ringing painfully. Falling to her knees as she reached out for his hands. Feeling it was still warm which confirmed this had happened very recently. Had he fallen? Had he been pushed? Either way, there was no denying it. Her baby was gone from this world. All light in those bright green eyes he had gotten from both herself and from Jaime vanished. Instead they were dull, more like a moss shade as opposed to emerald. How long she had remained there, she could not say. Minutes? Hours? It was only when Bernadette appeared that she tore her gaze away and let go of Joffrey's hand which had now gone as cold as ice. The blood was almost dried now too, and the aroma was steadily getting stronger.
"Ser Meryn has been taken into the throne room for questioning, your Grace. But I bring even graver news."
What could be graver than this? Her entire life had just shattered in a matter of minutes. Her son had been ripped from her.
"Pray tell me what can be worse than telling a mother her child is no longer of this world?"
"A servant in the hallway beside the walkways to Traitor's Walk saw what happened."
"And what did happen?"
It was quiet for what felt like an eternity. But eventually, the other woman spoke the dreaded words.
"His Grace did not fall from the walkway, your Grace."
Anger blossomed within now as the words sank in. Lips pulling apart in a snarl as tears brimmed her eyes once more. Desperately trying not to scream again as a fire built up within that was about to burst any moment now. Who would dare to push the King? Whoever it was would be losing their pretty head for treason. As would Ser Meryn for not being at his post. And where in all the bloody hells was the Hound?
"Sansa Stark did it, your Grace. She's the one who pushed the King from the walkway."