Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with the show or the books.
AN: I'm so unbelievably sorry about the long delay. I know I said I'd have this up weeks ago, but in my defence my teachers decided to spring FOUR exams on me out of the blue and I had to hit the books pretty hard, I've still got a migraine :(. But anyway, to make up for the wait, this chapter is exceptionally longer than usual. Hopefully my painkillers haven't impacted my grammar too badly ;D
Chapter Nine.
"As you know Your Grace, it is not only the sworn duty of a Maester to carry out the wishes of the House he serves, but also to offer guidance and council..." Grand Maester Pycelle murmured behind the Queen Regent. Failing spectacularly in his efforts to hide his prying tone from her acute hearing, Cersei mused with a stoic mask as she stared out of the window consuming a wide berth behind her desk, the elaborately carved oak table was overwhelmed by her daily paperwork still waiting patiently to be attended to.
Wary jade coloured eyes gazed at the dark ocean, not too greater distance from the Red Keep. The night sky above her coaxed the small lights in the city of King's Landing into a grandness that they would otherwise fail in. Silver eyes peered down at her from the soullessly dark blanket the sun had given way to a number of hours ago, wondering what strategy she would utilise against her enemies, even now Stannis Baratheon drew ever closer to the Capital of Westeros with his immense fleet following blindly behind him. The stars took on a mocking light as she tilted her head, she hadn't the slightest knowledge of whether or not her plan would take effect. She had written to her Lord Father several days ago, requesting for his assistance. She held no reply and no alternative. There was only one matter in need of addressing at present and she had thought to avoid it.
"...If anything, a Maester's duties become even more urgent in times of war and turmoil. I remember in the days of King-"
"Have you brought me something?" Cersei's brusque hiss cut through the useless ramblings of Maester Pycelle, standing in front of her desk, dressed in his typical humble attire. Bringing her wine glass, that she held clasped in her elegant right hand, up to her full red lips she sipped regally. The rich taste of the beverage contained in her cup did nothing to settle her nagging thoughts. But no matter how helpless the dire situation she found herself in, she refused to allow doubt into her mind. As her father, Tywin Lannister, had once told her, 'If you allow uncertainty to take hold, despair will cripple you'. She smirked slowly before taking an even larger sip of her Dornish wine.
"Yes..." Maester Pycelle stammered nervously behind her, he was no stranger to the erstwhile vicious nature of the Queen Regent. Cersei lowered her wine glass, praying for the patience desperately needed to tolerate the Maester for much longer. She knew exactly what he was doing, attempting to play the Game Of Thrones, her game. He wished for her to supply him with assurance, the certainty that she would seize power from Joffrey, simply so he could whisper it into whatever ear was nearest when he left her chamber.
Opinions on her would only worsen should such a thing occur prematurely, before she intended, she could already envision it. Half the court would praise her revered name for removing Joffrey from power, the other half would rejoice in public and unjustly slander her name behind closed doors, accuse her of stealing the Crown so that she may use her unquestionable influence to halt the rumours of her relationship with Jaime.
It was of no consequence.
If she lived through the night, she fully intended to seize the Throne and openly claim Sansa as her concubine. That in itself would cause an uproar within the entire Seven Kingdoms. But at least she would have unity by at last by proving the legitimacy of her children. And when Westeros stood as a united front under her rule, she would ruin those who had dared to hold her noble family in contempt. But first, she had to achieve the impossible, and devising some clever plot to ward off an army the size of Stannis' would seem hopeless to any but her. She revelled at the opportunity.
"...Essence of Nightshade is as dangerous as it is efficacious. A single drop in a cup of wine, it suffices to soothe the ragged nerves. Three drops will bring on a deep and dreamless sleep. Ten drops however-"
"I know what ten drops will bring" Cersei growled, turning the full force of her staggering glare upon the Maester, Pycelle seemed to shiver under the cold unwavering stare. She strode towards him, secretly smirking when she caught him subconsciously retreating, like a helpless rabbit fleeing a lioness before she clamped her powerful jaws around his neck. Extending her free hand, she arched her perfectly shaped blonde eyebrow, the mocking gesture seemed to spur the Maester back to some courageousness or further stupidity.
When the tiny vial of potentially lethal Nightshade was pressed into her magnolia pale palm, she couldn't resist a glance towards the Lannister red screen, concealing her bed and the bounty within from prying eyes. She could not risk her young lover deducing why she had ordered Pycelle to procure her an exceptionally deadly substance. Sansa was experiencing enough difficulty finding sleep as it was, just like the entire populace of King's Landing on the eve of battle, and she had no desire to cause her SheWolf any further distress on this night.
"Your Grace, if I may ask-" Pycelle licked his dry lips, like the dehydrated shell of a man nearing an oasis. Cersei's upper lip curled with distaste, she was swiftly losing her forbearance with Pycelle's ravenous gossip trenchant. She would not reveal anything of her plans yet.
"You may not..." Cersei snapped, the Queen Regent's eyes flashing dangerously in the flickering orange candlelight illuminating her chamber in mellow light, like a feline deciding which was the weaker member of her quarry.
"...You must have a lot of work to do, I am sure many young men will need your wisdom soon" Cersei sneered at Pycelle. Though a pang of regret blossomed within her chest as she tightened her long slender fingers around the essence of Nightshade, many men of varying ages would die tonight. Husbands. Fathers. Uncles. Sons. And all the rest in between. Loyal Lannister soldiers would fall victim to Baratheon swords on account of a lie. And there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Such waste of life would not be tolerated under her rule, when it dawned.
"Yes a siege is very-"
"Be careful on the stairs Grand Maester, there are so many" Cersei purred icily, the hidden threat took a moment to seep into Pycelle's cognition, she felt like applauding sarcastically when realisation finally shined back at her through the Maester's eyes, instead she smirked mockingly and turned her back on him dismissively. Pycelle may be a causerie hungry vulture, one among many that surrounded her, but he was not enough of a fool to fail in heeding the Queen's clear warning;
"Speak of this to anyone and death will seek you out in one of many ways"
Time was a heavy encompass, Cersei discovered as she stared up at the Lannister red canopy above her, the proud sigil of her House, adorning the finely woven silk, looked back at her with fierce eyes. She found herself covetous of the Lannister lion's unwavering stance and expression as she lay atop of her bedsheets, waiting for warning bells to signal the inevitable. It had been well over an hour since Pycelle's departure. The Queen Regent stroked Sansa's back with light comforting touches as she appraised the sight above her. Her lover was pressed tightly into her side, the redhead's muscles were tensed tighter than a taut bow string ready to loose an arrow.
As much as the Queen Regent wished to relieve the scorching fear she could sense swimming just beneath the surface of her SheWolf's flesh, swiftly consuming the redhead's thoughts like a raging storm, it was simply another thing not of her control this night. She'd briefly considered coaxing Sansa to drink a single drop of the Nightshade perched on the small bed-side table, until she'd recalled the reason for its acquisition and the thought of allowing her lover to come into contact with the substance, even through the barrier of glass, became inconceivable.
Finally breaking her gaze with the proud Lion glaring back at her with sharp teeth bared aggressively. Her jade coloured eyes sought out Sansa's beautiful face in the darkness, her SheWolf's head rested on her shoulder, despite the various candles spread out across her large bedchamber there was very little clarification to be found in the furnishings silhouettes.
Her lover's stunning blue-grey eyes gleamed in the mellow light, Sansa's breathing was dangerously shallow, Cersei's chest tightened painfully as she caressed her SheWolf's face with her eyes and continued to stroke the younger woman's clothed back with her elegant hands. Offering what little comfort and security how she could. With touch and glance. The slowing of the redhead's breathing was her reward, though fear still burned in the far corners of Sansa's captivating pale eyes. Leaning forward, she brushed her full red lips over her SheWolf's brow, despising the fact she could not force the anxiety, so very clearly, simmering within the younger woman back to whence it came. She was not accustomed to having control slip from her steely grasp and into the hands of another.
"I distinctly remember asking you to at least try and sleep" Cersei murmured gently as she tenderly nuzzled the magnolia pale skin beneath her lips. Apprehensive nerves were made worse by fatigue, she knew that from experience, while she accepted she couldn't do much to sooth her lover's fears, she would freely give what little she could.
"You would have greater fortune ordering a bat to remain awake during the day" Sansa's whispered quietly, she could sense weariness slithering in the redhead's tone as she caressed her lover's body with her hands.
"There is oblivion in sleep Sansa, for however long the world and all the troubles held by it cease to exist." Cersei prompted.
"Only to be magnified when you awake to find them on your doorstep instead of a good distance away" Sansa snuggled closer to the Queen Regent as she voiced her damnably reasonable protest. Cersei's jaw tightened as she held the younger woman close.
"Perhaps. But then there is only time enough to react, never to think. That in itself is a clemency for some" Cersei purred coaxingly. For some maybe, but not for her, to play the Game Of Thrones one needed to plot several steps ahead of one's enemies. And none played the Game better than she did. Even now, she schemed to gain victory. But to voice her current plan to any, save herself, was to give them Hope. Out all the emotions she was unacquainted with, Hope could be counted chiefly among them. She depended solely upon her own cunning ability to ensure fate played out the way she desired, but she knew others depended upon Hope, mainly Sansa, thus she would hold her tongue.
Her heart lurched into her throat, pounding furiously and pumping sudden adrenaline through her veins, when she heard the warning bell tolling loudly outside her bedchamber window.
"Take the children and go immediately to Maegor's Holdfast. You recall the fastest route I revealed to you?" Cersei was surprised at the steady note of her own voice, she had suspected it would appear somewhat shaky due to the mass of fretful nerves thrumming in the pit of her stomach. Tommen and Myrcella each desperately clung to her, their little arms clenching around her slender waist so tight she expected purplish bruises to blossom in a matter of moments. She stroked the fall of their golden manes tenderly as she spoke to her lover just outside her children's chambers.
"Yes" Sansa's melodious voice was drenched with acidic fear. Cersei's jaw tightened slowly, she continued gently raking her long slender fingers through her children's silky tresses, sensing their fear and knowing she could do nothing to prevent it was maddening. Her own worries seemed to disperse when she was confronted with theirs.
"I have matters to attend to but I will join you soon enough" Cersei reluctantly urged Tommen and Myrcella towards Sansa, she found a small smile begin to play at the corner of her full red lips as she watched them turn their urgent need for comfort from easily her to her SheWolf so naturally. Even Sansa appeared to calm as her children's arms clung to the redhead. A pair of thunderous footsteps swiftly approaching caught her attention, tilting her head, she found The Hound marching down the wide corridor, a bloodthirsty gleam in his dark brown eyes.
"Your Grace" As Sandor inclined his head reverently, she noticed a grim note mingle with the sanguinary gleam in his eyes as he turned his gaze onto Sansa. He was just as protective of her SheWolf as she was.
"Is everything assembled Sandor?" Cersei watched Sansa carefully as she spoke, her lover looked so vulnerable that it felt as though a rusty blade was being driven into her chest and roughly twisted with every breath she took.
"Yes, Your Grace" Sandor's deep rumble seemed to reach out to her over a great distance as she stared into her SheWolf's beautiful pale eyes. In the back of her mind she couldn't think of a reason to cease as she stalked forward, no matter how this night reached its end, none would be able to judge her actions anyhow.
Tenderly she cupped the younger woman's warm porcelain cheek in the palm of her left hand, there were a magnitude of soothing words she could feel perched on the tip of her tongue, but they were all too negligible in the present situation. Instead, she slowly closed the marginal distance between them, in full view of her children and The Hound, Sansa's shocked breathless gasp reverberated against her lips as she brushed them against Sansa's in a soft, warm kiss. Cersei smirked with contentment as she felt her SheWolf tentatively began to return her chaste embrace, for several seraphic moments, she stroked Sansa's soft cheek with her thumb as they slowly kissed.
"Now go..." Cersei urged in a reluctant whisper against her lover's velvet soft lips, elation fluttered in her chest when she felt the redhead smile helplessly against her sensual mouth.
"...All of you" Her tone was one of unequalled sobriety. Myrcella's no doubt impish comment died in the young blonde's throat when she identified her mother's forbidding tone of voice, Tommen's cherub face brightened with a half smile as he quietly slipped his hand into Sansa's readily. Cersei's signature smirk spread into a wicked smile as her lover continued to stare back at her, a blush staining the younger woman's high aristocratic cheekbones, her SheWolf's confounded yet titillated pale eyes darted from the young children clasping each of her graceful hands to The Hound standing tall behind the Queen Regent. She could read the question, as clear as the midday sky alight with the high sun, in the redhead's blue-grey gaze, but she did not have time to answer it yet.
"Something you wish to say?" Cersei audaciously tilted her up at The Hound after she'd watched, bemused as her children all but dragged her speechless lover down the corridor, never once had their stare been interrupted and never did her SheWolf's amorous smile diminish. Until the younger woman had disappeared around the stone corner. The Hound's hard eyes had softened in his scarred face during the tender interaction between his charges, she raised a single perfectly shaped blonde eyebrow until the hard edge returned to his unwavering stare.
"No Your Grace" The Hound's lips twitched with the barest hint of a fond smile. As she turned to stalk passed Sandor, towards the council chamber where all the Maester's were gathered, she could not stifle the predatory yet tender smile that crossed her lips.
Her puzzle pieces were steadily descending into the formation she desired.
"We will convene immediately after victory has been handed to me, I advise you all against trying my patience when the time comes..." The assured authority in the Queen Regent's voice would have one believe that the arduous battle encroaching in on King's Landing would be won simply on account of her say so. Surveying the sickly looking expressions looking up at her, she couldn't resist giving them all her signature smirk, the cold half-smile stayed in place as the doors to the council chamber burst open to reveal the all Kingsguard, with the exception of her twin. The questions suddenly alight within the Maester's eyes sparked a bolt of satisfaction within her.
"You may leave Maesters, no doubt you wish to polish your tongues for Stannis should he, by some unnatural event, surpass my expectations" Cersei sneered scornfully. Of course the assembled before her were already planning which was the foremost greeting and position to assume if Stannis Baratheon were to take the City, they would be swift in their efforts to gain his favour.
"My Queen" Sandor inclined his head respectfully once the Maesters had shuffled passed the Kingsguard, all of her guards outfitted for war, and out of the basically furnished council chamber. Cersei gracefully rose up out of her high-backed chair, turning just as the Kingsguard, as one, dropped to one knee before her. She raised her head slightly, silently acknowledging their show of voiceless fealty.
"The wildfire is in place?" She didn't address anyone in particular as she spoke.
"It is Your Grace, as is everything else" The Hound's deep baritone rumbled in the dark chamber, flickering orange light was cast around the council chamber from various tapers.
"Then we are ready. Inform the City officials that capital punishment will dealt out instantaneously to those who seek the opportunity to perpetrate any illegal transgression from this moment on. Ser Boros and Ser Arys, I entrust you both with the task of keeping the messenger routes clear, fail to do so, and I will personally see you hanged with your own entrails. Understood?" Cersei waited for the briefest of nods from each man before she stalked around the semi-circle they formed and out the double doors, they were close on her heels as she prowled through the Red Keep towards the Throne room. The sounds of their heavy boots echoed loudly in her ears, unsurprisingly her path did not pass another's, the servants were all cowering in their quarters and the Lords were presumably readying to take to the battlefield. A heated scowl passed fleetingly over her face, she wouldn't be overly astonished if the number of attendants in the Keep 'mysteriously' tripled within the next hour.
"Where is Joffrey?" Cersei demanded of Sandor as they approached the Throne room at a brisk pace.
She had already given the remainder of the Kingsguard leave to tend to their duties, they must be seen to serve Joffrey for the Battle, else confusion would settle over the residual of the Lannister army. Confusion lead to weakness. That was the sole reason she had failed to directly announce her ascension, the need for a change in leadership was apparent to all of the populace, but she could not afford for her soldiers to become distracted, as they were likely to become when she seized power, their only focus should be centred on the battle. It was only natural for underlings to question a change in power, like a troupe of ants to honey, they wouldn't be capable of preventing themselves from questioning her reasoning though it was naught of their concern.
"Readying for the siege" Sandor's reluctant response snagged her attention and brought her to a stop in the Throne room vestibule, whirling around to face The Hound, the force of her icy glare was enough for the muscular man to retreat a step. A tick formed in the Queen's oval shaped jaw as she searched The Hound's eyes for the jest she was clearly missing.
"The boy is a fool" Cersei hissed between gritted teeth, when she found only sincerity staring back at her through Sandor's dark brown eyes. She cursed the slight twinge of maternal worry that struck her in the pit of her stomach, internally she sought to crush it, while calling on her inheritance, the Lannister cunning, to provide her with a solution to her eldest son's stupidity.
"There is something else Your Grace" Sandor murmured gravely, as though he could not decide if it would be better to remain silent then to voice the vexing matter.
"Speak then" Cersei growled.
"By Ser Boros' account, he sent for Sansa, demanding her presence before he joins the battle" Cersei's icy stare would have cut through stone as it descended into a glacial hue. She stalked through the Throne room's partially parted doors, her jaw clenched so tight she doubted whether she would be able to from words, she noted several of the higher ranking Lannister soldiers savouring, possibly, their last moments with their wives all around the vast chamber. The Throne rooms sheer magnitude would offer a comfortable home to a troupe of eagles among the rafters without the majestic birds ever discovering that they were indeed held captive with an actual structure.
When her eyes found Sansa, lingering nervously towards the other end of the Throne room, her pace quickened despite the curious eyes suddenly attached to her. She could feel The Hound's imposing form close behind her own, the silence of his movements should be unattainable to a man of Sandor's bulky size. The doors from one of the numerous side entrances burst open, Cersei growled in annoyance when she caught Joffrey sauntering through the arched doorway dressed in his newly forged armour, as though the battle he was about to submerge himself in was a mere game, a game he could simply restart if it did not play out the way he wanted. She would never understand where his imbecilic tendencies had sprouted from, certainly not from her or Robert.
"Such a touching sight is it not?, young love..." Cersei froze when a familiar drawl sounded from behind her, the instant fury that blazed to life within her was unmistakable, only one person could provoke such instant irritation, and he was little more than half a man.
"...Come to wish the King a good fortune?" Tyrion sidled towards her, swallowing tightly when The Hound glared down at him, she smirked as she noted the vast difference in The Imp's unimpressive height when compared with Sandor's immense frame, it was almost comical. Across the Throne room, she watched helplessly while Joffrey interacted with her lover, she may not be within ear-shot of the two, but she knew her eldest son, she knew what poison he was likely dripping into her SheWolf's delicately shaped ear.
"Oddly enough, it is not my son that I foresee falling this night. After all, it was our brother that personally saw to his training" Cersei hissed down at the Dwarf, she wanted to find the sight of her deformed brother clad in armour amusing, but all she felt was panic. Nothing good ever came of Joffrey's impromptu conversations with Sansa, she had done her best to keep them separated during the younger woman's stay at King's Landing for that precise reason. She would prefer to be locked in the dark cells with only Tyrion as her companion for days on end rather than allow her SheWolf to become upset.
"Three lessons wasn't it?" Tyrion drawled snidely.
"And still I'd confidently wager that Joffrey knows more about combat than you ever will" Cersei sneered scornfully. She knew the words falling from her lips to be entirely false, however she was confident that her eldest son's cowardice would prevent him from injury this night. She felt every in her lithe body tense when across the grand hall she glimpsed Joffrey unsheathe his sword, tilting her head slightly, she silently ordered The Hound to leave her side and instead turn to Sansa's.
"I know enough on the subject to protect this City" Tyrion grumbled defensively. Cersei forced herself not to openly laugh at his naïvety, he honestly thought that she knew nothing of his 'acquisition' of the wildfire she had ordered swiftly produced a matter of months ago. When in fact it was well known to her. The Imp thought he could swindle more influence among the nobles, perhaps even their Lord Father, by claiming that it was he, not her, who had done their absolute best to sway the tide of battle.
The ease in which she had manipulated the Dwarf was almost unnatural. As far as the nobles went, they were a scourge of vultures always looking for their next ambidextrous meal, their opinions, as always, mattered very little to her. On the other gilded hand, she had outlined her strategy in detail to her Lord Father in her missive, Tywin Lannister would be fully aware of which child he would be forced to acknowledge if the battle was won. If.
"What you know about warfare is the equivalent to what I know of mercy" Cersei snapped venomously, she did not forget when she was wronged nor did she forgive the offence, something Tyrion should be utterly aware of. The Imp answered her insult with a dark, silent, glare. Sensing her triumph over the Dwarf she swiftly stalked forward, elegantly striding towards the other opposite end of the Throne room. Sandor was already looming protectively behind her lover, while in front of them, Joffrey nervously sheathed his sword.
"Mother. Your concern for my well being is quite poignant, if a little belated. When my uncle's blood stains the ground, you and I will be discussing your recent treacherous behaviour" Cersei's jade coloured eyes flared with annoyance, like the irritation she would feel for a cockroach that refused to depart.
"You would do well to remember exactly who you are talking to Joffrey" Cersei hissed heatedly, beside her she could almost hear The Hound growling in response to her son's impertinence.
"I would offer you the same advice. Never forget that I am the King, you may be my mother but I will not stand for any wilful discourtesy from any one of my subjects, such is the nature of your unlawful treatment of me in the past weeks" Joffrey spat. Cersei crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she traced her son's features, he appeared like any other member of House Lannister, but only an imbecile from one of the lesser Houses, perhaps even the common populace, would dare to adopt such an undutiful tone while addressing her, to say nothing of the words falling from her son's mouth. Her palm positively itched to slap his porcelain cheek, instead she forced her hands into tight fists, taking satisfaction in the fact she would soon be permanently relieving Joffrey of all his titles, and Sansa's betrothal.
"Seeking to conceal your cowardice from those that would use it against you is hardly what I consider unlawful" Cersei growled, her tone took on a lethal note. She couldn't bring herself to experience a twinge of guilt as she watched Joffrey flinch in response to her virulent, and wholly accurate, hiss. She cast her eyes towards Sansa, her lover stood slightly in front of her and to her left, The Hound loomed behind her SheWolf protectively. For the first time since she'd laid eyes on her lover, Sansa stared back at Joffrey without the acidulous gleam of fear in her beautiful pale irises. A half-smile crossed her full red lips despite the audience staring at them.
"Come my nephew, Stannis' fleet draws near" Cersei pursed her lips, behind her The Imp promenaded towards them. Tyrion drew to a stop beside her, she didn't even spare the Dwarf a glance, instead she slowly extended her elegant hand towards her younger lover.
"We must retire to the Holdfast" She ignored the appalled glances she was receiving from all angles, for when had Cersei Lannister ever been remotely civil towards Sansa Stark?. Her smile was for her lover, alone, the Throne room might as well be empty for all the attention she paid to the lingering guards, The Imp and Joffrey. After some initial and anticipated hesitation, Sansa cautiously slipped her graceful palm into that of the Queen Regent.
"Try not to die too swiftly" Cersei hissed at Tyrion as she carefully lead the younger woman from the Throne room, Sandor dutifully followed after them. Cersei winced internally when in the distance the warning bells sounded once again, their loud echoing octaves fostered a frantic rhythm which only served to confirm the Imp's words. It would not be long until the Baratheon fleet entered the harbour of King's Landing.
"Where are the children?" Cersei tilted her head to ask of her lover as she subconsciously decided upon which routes to take through the labyrinth of wide marble halls, her lover's hand still entwined with her own and The Hound close behind them.
"I made certain they were safe in the Holdfast before answering Joffrey's summons" Sansa swiftly answered. Cersei growled inwardly, she was perfectly well acquainted with the temporary occupants of Maegor's Holdfast, they would all be 'doting' upon her youngest children with their ulterior motives lurking in the shadows.
She didn't fear her children accidentally revealing the nature of her relationship with Sansa. Tommen spoke very little to people he wasn't familiar with and Myrcella harboured just as much contempt for the Ladies of the Court as she did herself. Which was exactly why she detested her children's current emplacement. She masked her annoyance behind a genuine smile for her lover, her SheWolf was still terrified of the upcoming battle, she could see the panic so very plainly in the redhead's blue-grey eyes. Her frustration, inspired by that infuriating concept, spurned her to quicken her pace.
"Go inside, I must speak with Sandor" When Cersei reached the grand vestibule leading to Maegor's Holdfast, The Hound towered several feet away from where she stood close to the entrance with Sansa. The Queen Regent fleetingly caressed her lover's magnificently pale high cheekbone with the backs of her slender knuckles. She smiled tenderly, feeling the younger woman lean so naturally into her soft touch. Reluctantly withdrawing her graceful hand, she flattened her palm against Sansa's lower back, urging her SheWolf into the secure chamber.
"How can I serve Your Grace?" Cersei held Sansa's pale eyes with her own, refusing to sever the connection, until the barrier of the closing double doors forced her to look away from her lover.
"You and I both know victory is an almost implausible thought..." Cersei murmured quietly, whispering the words she wouldn't contemplate uttering with the younger woman within ear-shot.
"If the battle begins to turn for the worst..." She began with a harsh sigh, a lump formed in the slender column of her throat as she looked up at The Hound's scarred face. As much confidence she held in her own plans, she could not glance passed the possibilities of failure, that was not what her father had taught her. Her renowned visage mirrored a stoic mask as she spoke.
"I want you to return to me, I will have one final task for you to carry out" She breathed out on a sigh, her entire being rebelled against the mere thought swirling around in her mind, every avenue had to be considered.
"Can I ask what the nature of this task is Your Grace?" The Hound inclined his head reverently as his rumbling voice filled the deathly silence, like the grim silence that descends over a battleground in the wake of war. A tick formed as she clenched her jaw tightly, she saw no reason to put voice to the task before the duty was needed to be preformed.
"You will be informed, when it is necessary..." She murmured gravely. The warning bells ringing in the distance suddenly adopted a frenzied tempo.
"The battlefield calls to you Sandor..." She said in way of a dismissal. The Hound nodded briskly, turning on his steel-plated boot heel, his abnormally light foot falls echoed through the eerily silent halls. She stared at his broad, gold armour clad, back as he stalked down the wide marble corridor, his stealthy movements slightly disturbed the crimson tapestries mounted on the walls. The pang of concern for the bulky man that stabbed her through her chest was an utterly ridiculous sensation, the mere notion of Sandor falling in combat was too absurd to truly contemplate to the fullest. But nonetheless, she couldn't quite glare the emotion back into its cage.
Cersei twirled her wine goblet around slowly, the pleasant thrum of rich alcohol flooded her veins, the steady burn flickering at her cognition drowned out the galling crying emitting from the crowd of hens meandering around the spacious chamber. Flinging her arm out carelessly, she waited with an impartial expression gracing her stunning face as the handmaid lingering by her left shoulder to fill her glass again. Lifting the goblet to her full red lips, she swiftly drank the entire contents of her glass in a few mouthfuls, the lingering taste of Dornish wine on her tongue distracted her from the various gazes affixed to her, filled with varying degrees of admiration and confusion. She managed to retain her stoic mask as she once again gestured for yet another refill of her more favoured beverage.
By her reckoning, the battle furiously raging just outside the walls of the Red Keep had been carrying on for several hours. Numerous times she had been delivered various reports on the progression of the battle, but she had not received the one missive she would hold greater interest in. Her Lord Father would have his intentions remain an enigma it would seem, surprise would be a route offered to her if she were any different from her sire. She could not recall the amount of occasions she had plotted and schemed the downfall of others, without leaving the barest shadow of a hint for her victims to detect. Like The Imp had perceptively stated at so many junctures in their Game Of Wits, Tywin Lannister had taught her very well.
Dispelling the thought, she repeated the procedure of draining her wine and motioning for yet another replenishment, on this occurrent she rested the underside of her wine goblet on her armrest. Casting her jade coloured irises around the Holdfast, the mellow light illuminating the chamber seemed to guide her hawk-like gaze directly to her lover. Across the chamber, her SheWolf was mingling with the other high-born ladies, murmuring words of comfort to the other distressed noblewomen, while Tommen and Myrcella weaved in and out of the peeresses as they glumly lead Duchess around the room, even the wolf pup seemed susceptible to the grim atmosphere. A harsh sigh ripped itself free of her full red lips, as much as she dreaded the end of this night, waiting for a result from the battle itself went far beyond onerous. Anxiety was the companion towering over her shoulder and yet she was prepared to confront it with a smirk on her face.
The Queen Regent raised her wine glass up to her lips just as she caught a glimpse of Sansa's Handmaid lingering in a crudely formed stone corner. She scowled heatedly behind her expressionless mask, watching with a malicious gleam in her eyes as the dark haired woman approached her lover across the dense chamber. She left hand, free of her wine glass, clenched into a tightly coiled fist as she silent observed the younger women retire to a secluded nook in the Holdfast, before a self-mocking smirk tilted the right corner of her mouth upwards. Her capricious temper always did flare far swifter when she indulged in alcohol. Abandoning her empty wine glass on a small square table within arms reach, she adopted a regal posture, glaring darkly at the numerous pairs of discerning eyes bolted onto her as a sense of profound powerlessness curved her full red lips into an indifferent snarl.
"Why is he here?" Cersei tilted her head towards the silent form of Ser Ilyn, the executioner stood close to her side, black gloved palms clasped in front of him, before returning her gaze to where she truly wished to be looking.
"Ser Ilyn?..." Cersei murmured thoughtfully, she was hardly going to announce her true intentions regarding the presence of The King's Justice being close at hand. She refused to incite more panic within the heart of her lover. Reaching out slowly, she linked her long slender fingers with those of her lover uncaring of the public implications. She smiled at the flutter of satisfaction within her chest as the younger woman latched onto her hand.
"Additional protection..." Cersei lied easily. She clenched her jaw tightly, sensing the wave of disbelief as it washed over her SheWolf, a tender glint found itself alight in her jade coloured eyes as she slowly realised how easily Sansa seemed to read her thought.
She brushed the soft pad of her thumb over the back of the younger woman's graceful hand comfortingly, silently requesting her lover to cease her questioning. A thankful smirk graced her ageless face as Sansa smiled acceptingly. A shifting of pale material, out the corner of her perceptive eyes, caught her attention, unbidden. She felt a low growl begin to rumble in the back of her throat as her jade coloured irises fell onto her SheWolf's Handmaid, the dark haired woman's equally dark eyes were intently agaze at the conjoined hands of the Queen Regent and young redheaded lover. The unstable emotions simmering inside of her gave birth to annoyance, her irritation with the Handmaid was only amplified by the sheer measure of alcohol she had consumed throughout the night.
"This one is unknown to me" Cersei hissed suddenly, she did not appreciate the aghast shimmer being aimed at her in the slightest. Gracefully climbing to her feet, she descended the small dais and stalked towards the Handmaid. The clumsy curtsey she was greeted with was positively disastrous.
"That was the worst curtsey I've ever seen..." Cersei stated bluntly.
"Here. Allow me, I mastered the art when I was a mere child. Keep your back straight and bend at the knee" Demonstrating as she spoke, she savoured the touch of instinctive fear gripping the dark haired Handmaid in cold hands, she could see it in the girl's dark eyes. She could feel the warmth of her lover mingling with her own from behind as The Imp's lover follow her example like a trained pet.
"What is your name?" She tilted her head, her eyes fostering a predatory edge as she trailed her cold eyes over the dark haired woman's scantly clad body.
"Shae Your Grace" Cersei nodded briefly, such a concise movement it was barely noticeable to those around her, the pair of confused, mesmerising pale eyes imploring her to cease her toying with the Lorathi Handmaid.
"How long has it been since you left Lorath?..." Cersei drawled, her tone dropped several octaves, insidious intent leaking into her voice.
"Don't look so surprised, I had a Lorathi Handmaid once. The only difference being she was high-born. You are not" Cersei purred, she could hear the arrogance in her own voice but she couldn't bring herself to bring it to a heel. Sansa's blue-grey eyes were beseeching her discontinue her examination of The Imp's lover.
"Ten years Your Grace" Shae answered.
"From the Free cities to the Red Keep in ten years without having to learn how to curtsey?. I wonder how that occurred..." She sneered scornfully. Only an imbecile would fail to gain the correct conclusion from the evidence before her.
"Your Grace!" Cersei cocked her head, hearing her title being screeched from the left. Her upper lip curved into a snarl of distaste upon the arrival of her cousin Lancel.
"What?" She snapped irritably. Her dangerous mood grew darker with the agonizing reminder of the inevitable quickly approaching.
"The Imp has set the river on fire, Stannis' fleet is destroyed but the soldiers..." Lancel drew near to her, whispering for her ears only "...The Vanguard has been overrun"
"What of Sandor?" Cersei growled, concern for the bulky man ripping through her deep hatred for the Handmaid, the force of her glare staggered the other Lannister back several steps.
"The Dog is unharmed. But the King...he has, Your Grace he has..." Lancel stuttered uselessly.
"For the love of the Gods, would you speak clearly?" The Queen Regent snarled angrily, forcibly staying her hand at the insulting appellation to Sandor, if she lived through the night, she would personally see that the cretin shivering in front of her was made The Hound's individualized whipping boy.
"The King has fled the battlefield and locked himself inside his chambers. The morale of the troops has been decimated Your Grace..." Lancel finally whispered fretfully. She had suspected her son would scarper from the battle the moment blood was spilled.
"I would ask your permission to escort Joffrey back onto the field" Cersei smirked, sensing the inanity in such an action, shoving a trembling boy toward the head of the Vanguard would only serve to destroy the merest fraction of morale that remained.
"Summon The Hound to me immediately" Cersei's scathing command left no more option.
"Listen closely Sandor..." Though she spoke in a whisper, even she could detect the lasting ascendency within her tone. She glanced around the vestibule to Maegor's Holdfast, ensuring that no living soul was within ear-shot as she addressed The Hound privately.
"Your final task is really quite effortless..." The Queen Regent leaned her back against the cold marble wall behind her as she hunted for the words struggling to stay unexpressed. The Hound shifted on his steel-plated boots, regardless of the cool night breeze billowing into the wide entrance hall there was a light sheen of perspiration dotted across Sandor's scarred face, accompanied by brilliant red streaks of Baratheon blood.
"You are going to take Sansa, back home, to Winterfell..." She swallowed to resist choking on the words she dragged out of concealment. The Hound had already informed her, that the battle was more or less lost, all that remained was for her to publicly relinquish the City to Stannis. Sandor remained quiet as she attempt to familiarise herself the odd sensation churning away in her gut, for the first occurrence since the untimely death of her mother, she felt her jade coloured eyes begin to sting with the foreign burn of tears. Not as a result of the simple defeat, but because she knew the moment she had been dreading the entire night finally stared back at her with an unforgiving and soulless expression.
"Myrcella and Tommen will never be safe in Westeros once Stannis is on the Throne, I want you to..." The unwilled agonizingly tight clenching of her oval shaped jaw prevented her from continuing, despite the uncommon action, she refused to look away from The Hound's dark brown eyes. The lump within her throat threatened to rob her of all speech as she held Sandor's stare.
"To take them to the Free Cities, once there, send a raven to my father. He will see that neither you nor they want for anything" She pursed her lips slowly, cursing the relentless bite of her tears as they continued gathering, unrelenting as they were, she would never allow them to fall, not a single drop. She was a Lannister.
"What will you do Your Grace?" The Hound's deep rumble was thicker than usual, she managed to keep her breathing even as she stared back at her most faithful servant and her expression empty of the volatile mixture of anguish and panic eroding her inner reservation. She didn't fear for herself, but for her children and her lover, she would greet the unavoidable with her signature smirk firmly in place as long as she knew they would be safe. Nothing in the world was closer to her heart and there was no better man to assign this crucial task.
"Such an inane question Sandor, especially being as you already know the answer..." She mused, blinking rapidly and clearing her throat.
"I will surrender the City personally. But I will not give my late husband's brother the satisfaction of claiming my life..." A satisfied smile ghosted across her face. She brandished the vial of Nightshade, that she'd kept hidden within her crimson skirts, as The Hound's eyes flickered with confusion.
"Your Grace, this is illicit. The Baratheon bastard's claim to the Throne disintegrated when you gave life to your children" The Hound protested heatedly, for a concise moment she almost imagined she witnessed Sandor's dark brown eyes begin to gleam in the flickering light cast from the torches mounted along the walls. She cast the thought aside for the absolute nonsense it was.
"Life is very rarely fair Sandor, only fools and children believe otherwise" Cersei enforced with an unwavering look. The situation she found herself in, was inescapable in its surreality. She had given her utmost to defend the Lannister assertion to power, and she had failed. She would lose everything, because of a lie cast by a paranoid simpleton. She would taken from her Myrcella and Tommen, like her mother had been taken from her and she would lose Sansa without being able to acknowledge the emotions her SheWolf had inspired.
"Cersei?..." Glancing to the right, warmth flared potently in her chest as her weary gaze settled onto the forms of her lover and her children, clinging to her lover's pale hands, while Sansa's own canine companion sat back on her lithe haunches close to the redhead's feet. Discreetly tucking the vial of nightshade into her sleeve, the Queen Regent stiffly pushed herself away from the wall at her back, her long legs warned her to move slowly, lest her limbs fall victim to the despair clouding her thoughts.
"Sandor, gather what provisions you will require for your journey, and take Tommen and Myrcella with you" She watched as Sansa's eyes glinted questioningly as she spoke in a clear tone.
"Of course Your Grace" The Hound inclined his head as he turned on his heel, waiting for the royal children to walk on ahead of him, before he stalked down the hall after his charges. The unmerciful hand gripping the jaded organ inside her chest squeezed, castings waves of agony burning through her body as she gazed at the hauntingly beautiful face of her lover.
"We must talk, but not here"
"The battle is lost, isn't it?" The Queen Regent's eyes drifted closed, as much as she resented the dire resignation in Sansa's melodious voice, she could not deny the truth. The times where she could freely deliver falsehoods to her lover had long since passed. Glancing away from the gilded pane covering the wide window in her vast chambers, outside in the harbour she could clearly see the remnants of the recently utilized Wildfire, the powerful chemical seemed to have scorched the very sky.
"Worry not. Stannis will not hurt you, you are after all, a Lannister captive" Cersei drawled mockingly. Her safekeeping of Sansa's true status would provide her lover with the necessary protection should her SheWolf be confronted with Baratheon forces. The likelihood of which was very small. Turning on her heel, she inwardly winced when confronted with the torturous sight of the younger woman's unshed tears, she stalked across her chambers, settling on the edge of her large four poster bed beside her lover.
"You will be reunited with your family before long..." The sharp needle of pain that pierced her chest twisted malevolently as she watched a silvery tear wend its way down Sansa's resplendently pale cheek. Subconsciously she reached out with her elegant left palm, gently catching the single tear with her slim knuckles while her SheWolf attempted to forestall the rest. She slowly guided her hand along her lover's oval shaped jaw in a tender caress, the soft flesh beneath her sensitive fingertips was mesmeric. The stringency in her chest seemed to both loosen and tighten in the same harrowing instant.
"Why the tears Sansa?. This is what you desired, is it not?" Many a time the younger woman had said as much, but as more tears hurried to replace the first of their akin, she found herself pondering if that was the only cause for the strangled sobs her lover tried to smother. Before her well spent time was done, she would put a name to the tender emotion that only Sansa seemed able to exalt from her and she would discover if that inebriating feeling swirled as lively inside her SheWolf as it did within herself.
"It was..." She snaked her arm around the younger woman's compact shoulders, drawing her cherished lover toward her, she eagerly inhaled Sansa's sweet scent on a shaky breath, no matter how much she longed for this moment, she was tortuously aware of the dwindling time left until the first of Stannis' horde managed to burst through the Mud gate. She wanted her lover and her children well beyond the City limits, in The Hound's trusted care, by that dreaded event.
"It is. I do wish to see my family again, but..." The younger woman's words were lost as her SheWolf nuzzled her beautiful face into the slight column of the Queen Regent's neck. A ravenous hunger for the straying words reared as she tenderly cupped the back of her SheWolf's head, burying her long slender fingers into the silky red tresses.
"'But'..." She prompted in a whisper, fighting the urge to clutch at the painful ache in her chest as the exposed pale skin of her neck was bathed in Sansa's flowing tears. Gently she stroked the silken tresses beneath her elegant hand, feeling her lover's lithe arms clinch around her slender waist.
"I don't want to leave you" Her SheWolf's irrepressible sobs dried up long enough for the Queen Regent to hear. A shaky sigh fled her full red lips, the emotion that only the younger woman could induce erupted forth, more potently than an explosion of freshly produced wildfire. She savoured the words she'd longed to hear since the first emergence of Sansa's emotion.
"Had it not come to this, I never would have let you go..." Cersei breathed, all of the forbidden words she had worked towards quelling for the past several weeks found their way onto the tip of her tongue. The tender-hearted words notions and speeches seemed to peak, brimming at the edge of her control as her lover raised her head. A pulsing tick formed as her jaw clenched, instinctively denying the adoring words their freedom.
"Intentions are good. Deeds are better" She purred self-mockingly, internally she hissed violent curses at the Gods. She'd never thought she would discover a capacity to experience that feeling, the very emotion Robert had insisted she would one day unveil 'after she visited enough beds of comely maids'. She rolled her jade coloured eyes fondly, after her late husband had ascertained where her preferences lay and their friendship had solidified, he had often talked to her of Lyanna. What she felt for her SheWolf mirrored, if not transcended, Robert's devotion to the deceased Lady Stark. She trailed her hand along the slim slant of her lover's shoulder, clad in Lannister red, until she was able to tilt the younger woman's face up toward her. The sorrow shinning back at her through Sansa's pale eyes encouraged her to begin stroking the redhead's porcelain cheek with her thumb.
"For what it is worth, I have never felt like this, about anyone else. Remember that when..." Cersei's strained whisper as ensued by a loud commotion outside her chamber, she tensed promptly, almost sensing the encroaching presences of her young children along with that of The Hound.
The loud knock that reverberated through her chambers was not enough for her to glance away from her lover's blue-grey irises. She had long since arrived at the conclusion that very few things would ever be enough to draw her devote attention away from Sansa, with the obvious exception of Tommen and Myrcella. The amorous gleam that erupted in her SheWolf's unique eyes was extraordinary to behold. A far softer knock on her chamber doors dragged her mind away from Sansa momentarily.
"Cersei, I..." She centred in on the note of devout sincerity, accented by a line of pure sentimentality that made her utterly omit the war raging outside the walls of the Red Keep. She continued to adoringly caress her lover's warm flesh as she waited anxiously for the younger woman's response.
"Whatever you you wish to say Sansa, I suggest you do it now for you won't acquire the opportunity to do so again" She could detect the desperation in the octaves of her own voice, but her statement rang true even in her own ears. She wouldn't have the chance to murmur those forbidden words ever again, to finally reveal exactly what Sansa had come to mean, how important her SheWolf, was to her. And not only to the Queen Regent, but Myrcella and Tommen as well. Her eyes drifted closed as the velvet softness of the younger woman's lips brushed up boldly against her own.
"I love you" Her eyelids flew open as the redhead's admission was whispered against her full red lips, she could feel herself smiling as her heart began to sing a golden tune she had never once heard before. She instinctively leaned forward to recapture her SheWolf's succulent lips, savouring the slight excited gasp she was gifted with.
"When you love someone, you'll do things you know you shouldn't do..." She nipped at her lover's plump lower lip playfully, feeling Sansa's breath quicken revealingly against her. Her approving purr was husky, rumbling in the back of her throat not unlike that of a blissful lioness.
"You'll act the fool, to make them happy, to keep them safe..." Her moist tongue darted out between her full red lips to lap at the seam of the younger woman's mouth with small skilful coquettish touches. She sighed in the back of her throat, feeling both her SheWolf's graceful hands clasp the subtle curve of her hips
"With the blatant exceptions in mind, you are the only person I would ever play the fool for" She felt the torturous ache in her chest suddenly regress into a void of non-existence as she persist in their tender embrace. She may not have voiced the exact words writhing demandingly, rigorously fighting for their freedom but feeling Sansa's enraptured smile as it spread across her SheWolf's ambrosially delicate lips was enough to soothe the rumbustious demands of her inner cognition.
She knew, without casting a glance in the general direction, it was her daring imp of daughter who plucked up the courage necessary to simply push the unlocked doors to her chamber open, the previous interruptions were obviously the result of Sandor and her youngest son's jitteriness of disturbing her. Myrcella slipped into the Queen Regent's rooms with a nervy half smile. She found herself smiling helplessly, noting The Hound and Tommen were far more cautious as they followed suit. Cersei slowly engaged her younger lover in slow yet deep kiss, sensing it would be the last, the warm hands encasing her hips tightened as she tenderly suckled on Sansa's lower lip possessively.
"Your Grace..." She narrowed her eyes, forcing herself to neglect her SheWolf's tempting taste in favour of The Hound's plainly essential tidings. Sandor knew well enough to never disrupt her savoured moments with the younger woman unless it was an affair of life or death.
"This had best hold great importance Sandor" She growled. While Myrcella pounced onto the Queen Regent's canopied bed next to her mother, Tommen, ever the more timid child, waited until he was pulled up onto the majestically carved four poster bed, but not by his mother, by her cherished lover.
"A raven has just this instant delivered a missive..." Sandor pulled a letter free of the various pouches attached to his wide leather belt.
"Bearing the seal of Lord Tywin" Cersei swiftly stalked across her chamber, crossing the expanse of marble flooring and various carpets in minimal matter of purposeful strides and snatching the missive free of her loyal servant's large paw. She caught The Hound swallowing tightly as she ripped open her father's letter, she shared his concerns. Now that she was certain of her emotions, and that they were returned, she was in even less of a hurry to ever be separated from her SheWolf than she had before. Trailing her eyes over her Father's regal penmanship, she found her previous vexations melting away, she handed the letter over to Sandor, allowing her most faithful liege-subject to read the glorious news for himself. Her Lord Father and his armies would arrive within the hour, all she had to do was devise a stratagem to hold the City for one more hour, her Father's instructions detailed as much.
"See that The Imp enigmatically discovers the tunnels beneath the City, I'm sure my guiding hand will not be needed from there" Cersei instructed with her signature smirk falling into place. The Hound crumbled her Lord Father's letter in his gloved palm at her silent gesture.
"Your Grace..." The Hound lowered his head reverently "...Shall I gather the Maester's?" Sandor drawled with a smirk.
"No. We will see how fast the fickle dogs come running once they realise it is still my hand that feeds them" She murmured, sharing The Hound's alleviated smirk as she turned back to her family. The three wide smiles she was greeted with caused a troupe of winged pests to dance jovially in her chest, she heard Myrcella demand a tale to pass the hour as she prowled over to her open window, Sansa's melodious voice caressed her ears as she reached into the sleeve of her crimson dress. She kept her back to her beloved companions as she pulled the small vial of Nightshade free of its confines, with a satisfied grin, she let the tiny bottle and the lethal substance within slip free of her long slender fingers. Distantly hearing the glass shatter with victorious finality.
"Father..." Cersei drawled her greeting, as Lord Tywin Lannister stalked into the Throne room with an attendance of both Lannister and Tyrell soldiers. She tilted her head, internally noting that Lord Baelish had successfully provided Ser Loras with her vengeful offer. She had always been confident that the Tyrell boy would accept the opportunity to avenge the death of his lover, she had simply doubted whether or not he would arrive in time to sway the tide of battle.
"The battle is over, we have won" Her Father drawled, as though victory had always been a sure thing. She inclined her head respectfully as the Head of House Lannister drew near, his helm tucked under one arm, though she did not rise from the Iron Throne. Her Lord Father's piercing gaze seemed to cut through her cold exterior, she had always felt rather insignificant when under his perceptive scrutiny. She returned his hard look with equal incisiveness.
"Your victory will, no doubt, be praised for months Father" She replied impartially. She recognised the smirk that curved the right corner of his mouth upward, it was the same as her own, only far icier than she would ever achieve.
"As will yours" She lifted her head, accurately reflecting his smirk. If there was one man in the entire Seven Kingdoms capable of reading the motives of her actions from across the realm, it was her Lord Father, to the rest she remained as he had taught her to be, unreadable. A side entrance burst open, she cast the Maester's a disinterested glance as they shuffled in, the Kingsguard following after.
"A magnificent victory Lord Tywin, your prowess is still the inspiration of songs" She didn't care enough to seek out the Maester that had nervously spoken, instead she returned her attention to her Father, in her mind's eye she could envisage a young lion cub carefully skittering around her sire. Dispelling the notion she turned a regal glower onto the Maester's, all of them glanced from herself to her Father, desperately searching for the silent words passing between them.
"It was a victory. Nothing more" Her Lord Father's cold rebuff of the complement directed at him seemed to cast shards of ice through the vast Throne Room, chilling the very air. She smirked in response to her father's biting rejection of extolment from those he deemed trivial, while numerous pairs of eyes found themselves attached to her.
"The reason you have been summoned here, is not to state the obvious..." She spat, sensing her Father's concealed amusement from her abrasive hiss.
"It is to give witness. Let it be known from the Summer sea to the Wall in the North and beyond. That I, Queen Cersei of House Lannister, Lady of Casterly Rock, do hereby renounce my eldest son, Joffrey Baratheon and disavow him of his natural rights and inheritances owed to him from both Houses Lannister and Baratheon. From this moment forth, the Iron Throne is mine"
TBC. . .
AN: Yeah I'm not even gonna bother trying to estimate when I'll be updating again because chances are I'll be wrong, again. But at least the Holidays are coming up pretty soon, so hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter up just as quick.
