Edited 12/23/2021 for a smoother read.

Trigger Warning: Female-on-male rape

Chapter 9

Jaime II

He felt like he was at the bottom of an ocean. His senses were muffled, there seemed to be a great weight that kept his limbs immobile, and he could barely breathe. He tried to claw his way up to the surface but his limbs wouldn't move. He gasped for air and felt relief as his chest expanded and he breathed in deep. Slowly, slowly, he was finding his way to the surface, but as he did so, other sensations came to him and he could only describe them as revoltingly pleasant. He felt like his skin was crawling and he wanted to vomit, but he clenched his teeth against it.

There was a tug at both of his wrists as he flexed his arms. Why couldn't he move? He struggled to open his eyes, but a great weight still lay over his eyelids and he had to make the extra effort to pry them open. Suddenly a warmth filled his mouth and he realized someone was kissing him. He turned away and grimaced, once again trying to get away, but he was stopped at his wrists and his ankles.

What is going on?

A hand reached out to gingerly stroke his hair and then a clear voice rang through the room. "Oh, brother, how I've missed you. We were always meant to be together. Why didn't you understand that?"

His heart jolted and the exhaustion that seemed to lay over his eyes disappeared in an instant. He found himself staring up at Cersei's surprisingly pleasant smile, but half of his vision was covered entirely in darkness. He recoiled from her and tugged at his right arm. He finally looked over and was shocked to find he'd been tied to the bedpost by his wrist. A quick look showed that he was tied at his other wrist and both of his ankles.

"What in seven hells are you doing? Get off of me!"

He blinked in confusion as ripples of crimson and pink erupted in front of his eye and he shook his head, as if to shake his vision. I can see sounds again, he thought. He breathed, though he wasn't sure if it was relief or panic. That ability wouldn't help him now.

She sighed, her voice a bubbly turquoise, which seemed so at odds with her usual disposition. "I was hoping we could do this like we used to, but if you insist." She shoved a strip of fabric into his mouth and tied it off. "At least I was prepared," she said, moving back down his body. It was only then that he noticed she was naked ... and so was he.

He tried once more to get his wrist out of the tight knot she had used, but it only served to exacerbate the pain he was already in.

"Just relax," Cersei said to him. Though her smile was easy, there was a maliciousness to it that he'd only ever seen directed at others, even when she was going mad at the end. Her smile faltered however and she reached over to stroke the wrapping that hid the claw marks. He flinched away. "You are ugly now. Why would you do something so stupid as to fight a bear? You should've just let the boy die. What do we care about the Starks?" She dipped down to take his cock in her mouth and he had to turn away, struggling to swallow the bile that threatened to rise in his throat so that he wouldn't choke on it.

No, no, no, no, don't do this, Cersei. Please don't do this! Where are the Seven when I need them the most? Get this bitch off of me! He closed his eyes to the room, but he couldn't escape the sensations he was feeling in his body as his manhood hardened against his will. He struggled even harder this time, because feeling pain was preferable to this. The tension caused his head to start pounding and he would've sobbed if he didn't have cloth in his mouth.

Where is Jon? He opened his eyes again and looked everywhere that wasn't Cersei. Judging by the darkness of the room, it was the middle of the night. Even injured, no one would think to put a guard at his door. Who would harm him? It would've been child's play for her to sneak in here.

"What did I do, Jaime? What made you push me away?" She asked him, but he refused to look at her, staring intently at the ceiling as he trembled with rage and disgust. "My children were meant to be our children. They should've been yours. This child, however, this one will be yours," she said and lowered herself onto him.

The best he could do was lie still now and refuse to play into her hands. He was ashamed to say tears were tracking down his cheeks and he clenched his eyes shut hoping it would all be over soon.

|-The Dragon's Roar-|

Jon VIII

Jon was restless. He paced his room like a caged animal, never able to find sleep until the early hours of the morning and even when he did it was only with Ghost curled up tightly against him. He couldn't stop his mind going over the implications of Jaime perhaps never waking. It was becoming a more real and distinct possibility because five days had passed since the attack. The maester himself said prospects grew grimmer with every day he failed to wake. What was worse was that there were no signs he was going to wake. Were it not for his chest rising and falling, he could have been mistaken for a corpse at a funeral.

I'll be alone. I don't want to be alone, Jon thought as he ran his fingers through his hair, pacing the length of his tiny room over and over. The gods wouldn't kill Jaime, would they? Was his only purpose not to put bastards in Cersei and now he's done? No, that can't be it. I just have to be patient. But for all that Jaime insisted that they had at least given him one message over the years, they were remarkably silent now even as Jon beseeched them at the weirwood. Is it only the Seven that answer? Or do the Old Gods answer too? He was about ready to walk outside and scream, "Give me a sign," but he was concerned that his sanity would come into question. It was imperative that he avoid any awkward entanglements while he trained.

He finally sighed in frustration, yanked the door open, and stepped outside. He breathed in the relatively warm fresh air and exhaled. He decided to take a walk around the building, maybe even check on Jaime once more hoping to find a change.

Cersei is guarding him. He frowned tersely at the thought. He didn't like the queen being anywhere near her twin, but as she was royalty, she had final authority over him. Ser Barristan had tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted.

He walked into the building and nodded at the guards on duty. No doubt he'd be getting a lecture from his uncle tomorrow about getting a proper night's rest.

"Son, you need to take better care of yourself. Your family is still counting on you. Even Maester Luwin has reported disappointing news that you're falling asleep in your lessons," Ned said, crossing his arms and frowning at him.

"Yes, I know Un-, Father." He winced at the near slip, but thankfully his uncle didn't notice. "I'm unable to find rest anymore."

"Listen, I understand that you liked Ser Jaime, but it looks like he may be unable to take you on as a squire. Ser Barristan has already come to me and offered to take over your squireship. With Ser Jaime ... like this, they'll need to fill in the extra spot in the Kingsguard."

"He's not even dead yet! That's cold, even for you, Father." Jon shook his head at the notion.

"These things happen. The only thing you can do is move on."

"I am not moving on to anything until he's cold in the ground," Jon said, the grip on his new sword tight. The sword that Jaime had commissioned especially for him.

Ned noticed the way he gripped the sword and said, "I see your loyalty is easily bought by a sword."

"How dare you! I have been his squire for near three weeks now and he has treated me fairly!"

"He's supposed to treat you fairly. He's a knight."

"Yet you're the one who's convinced he has irrevocably stained his honor. I will wait until either Ser Jaime wakes up or he is buried, but not until then," Jon shouted and stormed out of the solar.

There were few who hadn't heard that fight. For once, Theon didn't goad him and instead stood clear of him as though he was expecting Jon to use his new sword on him in a fit of rage. He still practiced in the yards and he might be even more formidable now. The sword wasn't quite as light as Longclaw but it was comfortable. This was the sword that he had used for nearly ten years in his former life and it felt like it was back in his hands. Ser Rodrick had made the comment, "Does Ser Jaime even have anything left to teach you?"

We're supposed to face this war together, I'm sure of it, Jon thought. Can I go it alone? He thought back to the night when Ser Jaime had told him about how he tried to kill himself and shivered again. Ser Jaime had been stuck guarding people he detested for life. Maybe it would've been kinder for Ser Barristan to discharge him, but the old knight hadn't even known. He hadn't bothered to show an interest in his charge's life.

He headed up the stairs and was almost to Jaime's door when he heard an odd, muffled moan. He cocked his head. There was more moaning, but it didn't sound lustful in nature. It sounded ... strangled. That got his feet moving and he wrenched open Jaime's door and gaped.

Queen Cersei let out a little scream and leapt off her brother, poorly trying to conceal her modesty with her hands. Jaime was lying naked on the bed, but his arms and legs were tied to the bedposts, and a piece of cloth tied around his mouth. He looked over as soon as the door opened and gave another strangled scream. Even tied to the bed, Jon could see he was trying to reach for him. He could see the fear and panic in his eyes.

"WHAT IN SEVEN HELLS ARE YOU DOING?" Jon roared loud enough to wake the entire household and a red film descended over his vision.

"What's it to you, bastard?" Cersei hissed. She scooped up her robe and threw it on her, using a hand to keep it close, and then tried to slip past him. He grabbed her wrist none too gently.

"You dare injure your queen? You will die tomorrow! I'll make sure of it."

"Not before you die," Jon replied, but she brought her knee up to hit him in the groin and he doubled over. She wrenched out of his grasp and dashed down the hall, her robe whipping behind her. He staggered after her.

"Jon, what's going on?" His uncle Ned and Catelyn appeared, having hastily dressed in their own night clothes.

"The queen was raping Ser Jaime," Jon spat out at them and then dashed down the hall. More people were spilling into the hallway. A few of them called his name, but he didn't heed them and continued, having seen the telltale flutter of her crimson robe as she turned yet another corner. There's nowhere for her to hide, he thought. The next corner he turned, Ser Barristan and Ser Mandon Moore were by the queen. She held the robe closed with a white hand and pointed at him.

"He peeked at me naked and then damaged my wrist. Seize him!"

But Ser Barristan didn't move right away. "Pardon me, Your Grace, but what were you doing wandering Winterfell in just a robe? Ser Mandon Moore, why weren't you with her?"

"She ... she was doing a shift looking over Ser Jaime. She insisted on going alone."

"She was dressed like this?" Ser Barristan said with a hard tone.

"Well…."

"What are you doing? I am your queen! Arrest him!"

"Jon Snow is an upstanding lad. I rather doubt what you accuse him of."

"I caught her raping Ser Jaime," Jon snarled. He clenched his fists and started stepping forward. Ser Barristan stopped him at arm's length.

"Whoa there, son. She was what?"

"She tied him to his bed and was raping him! I saw it!"

Ser Mandon snickered. When Jon turned his enraged eyes on him, he almost choked on his laughter, but he straightened up and stared down at him with an air of superiority.

"You can't rape a man. Never knew a man who didn't enjoy a good romp through the sheets. Ser Jaime probably needed to relieve more stress than most. He was always an uptight prick."

"Because all men want to roll in the sheets with their sister, is that what you're saying?"

Ser Mandon sputtered under both Jon's and Ser Barristan's glares.

"The king will settle this," Ser Barristan said. "Come with me." The queen smiled at him, her face aglow, but it fell when Ser Barristan growled, "Everyone, with me, now."

They trooped back to the center of the castle. They hadn't gotten far when they could hear the king. "BRING ME THAT BITCH RIGHT NOW OR I WILL SEE YOU ALL WHIPPED BLOODY!"

"Robert," Ned cried. "My son went after her. With luck he'll bring her back."

"I have her here, Your Grace," Ser Barristan declared as they rounded the corner.

The whole household was awake now. Sansa, Arya, Myrcella, and Julianna were standing around Lady Catelyn. The youngest girl reached out to her and cried, "Mother!" but Catelyn grabbed her hand and whispered urgently in her ear and she stayed where she was. Tears were already welling in her eyes.

Robb was one of the few who had actually changed out of his sleep clothes and was wearing a tunic and trousers, and he was standing next to Ned, both looking very grim. King Robert was red with fury and Jon felt himself recoil internally. Is this what my father saw on the Trident? To her credit, the queen still held her head high and did not flinch as she met his eyes.

"WOMAN! Ned here says that you were discovered fucking your brother!" The whole crowd drew back in disgust. Catelyn gasped and decided to start leading all of the young children away. Sansa was pale and shaking as she stared at the queen, seeing her mask pulled away for the very first time.

"Yes. Even tied up he's a better lay than you," Cersei replied with a smirk.

The king was shaking with fury, but Ned grabbed a hold of his arm to prevent him from barrelling forward and striking her. "Why?!"

"He's my twin. We are the same soul in two different bodies. We need to be together. You wouldn't understand."

"What madness is this?! That was a Targaryen belief and Westeros rejected that when they put me on the throne!"

Cersei shrugged. "I have regretted every day that I've been married to you. You stand there furious that I found a better man to address my needs when you put your cock in every woman you could find between here and King's Landing, littering the countryside with your bastards. It was a pleasure cuckolding you for so long. I almost got away with it," she said with a dramatic sigh.

The hall interrupted into pandemonium. People cried out, "Traitor! Whore! Slut!" The king had, if possible, flushed an even deeper red. Ned was talking into his ear, obviously trying to talk sense into Robert before he did something drastic. Joffrey was looking understandably frightened and seemed to be looking for the Hound who was standing nearby like an immovable boulder in a frothing ocean. Ser Barristan and Tyrion stood silent and pale nearby, shaken to their foundation. Jon's own heart was pounding in his chest as he understood the implication of her words.

Oh gods no, Jaime! She's claiming the children are his! The king will kill them all! He could only stand there helplessly, trembling uncontrollably. He put his hand on his sword, but he wasn't sure what he'd do about it.

"Throw her in the dungeons! Get her out of my sight! Lock the children in their rooms! I'll deal with them tomorrow," Robert bellowed. Guards instantly grabbed for Cersei and her robe fell open, revealing her nakedness, but she didn't try to hide herself this time, but marched with her head high down into the dungeons. The Hound grabbed Joffrey and pulled him back to his room without protest.

"Your Grace, what of Ser Jaime?" Ned asked. There was fear on his face.

Jon grimaced and his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

"Throw him in the dungeons as well. I'll have all their heads tomorrow!"

"Ser Jaime hasn't had a trial! He must be allowed to speak," Ned said. Jon could see that his uncle was doing his best to hide the alarm on his face and in his voice.

"I pardoned that cock for killing the Mad King and this is how he repays me?!"

"Mayhap the children aren't Ser Jaime's! The queen—"

"She is my queen no longer!"

"—Cersei could just be saying that. Jon claims he saw Cersei raping her brother! I untied him from the bedpost myself and he was barely coherent. He suffered a fit, the likes of which I've only seen once in my life. Maester Luwin claims he had a seizure and it was caused in part by undue stress. Being raped would cause that kind of stress."

"Ned, listen to yourself! Have you ever heard of a man being raped by a woman? He's just playing dumb to escape punishment."

"He was unconscious from a serious head wound until an hour ago!"

"And the children? They're full Lannister, just like their cunt of a mother and father. There is no doubt!"

The people shouted agreement and once more the calls rolled forward of "Kill the bitch! Kill the Kingslayer!"

"Robert, please, you can't—!"

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Ned! I AM THE KING," Robert roared once more.

"If you execute Tywin Lannister's children, he will demand all the money that he has sent to King's Landing immediately and the kingdom will drown in debt."

"Fuck Tywin Lannister! I should seize Casterly Rock from him for pushing his whore of a daughter onto me. Let him try to fight this. Now arrest Jaime Lannister and throw him into the dungeons!"

Ser Barristan seemed to be stuck to the floor, but he turned his head to Ser Mandon Moore and Ser Arys Oakheart and nodded at them. They bowed and headed off to Jaime's room.

Jon very nearly pulled his sword then on the guards, but he knew it would end with him in the cells as well. He wouldn't be able to do Jaime any good locked in the cell next to him. His mind was racing, but he was coming up blank on solutions.

A few minutes later, they heard the door bang open from the second floor.

"My sers, please, he is ill! He is unfit to leave his sickbed!"

"The King's orders," Ser Mandon barked. Everyone could hear the two men walking down the hall. When everyone could see them at the top of the stairs, it was the two knights carrying Jaime by his arms and his legs dragged limply behind him. His head was bowed, so no one could see his eyes. Jon was relieved to see that someone had the decency to dress him in a pair of sleep pants and a woolen shirt.

"Your Grace, you need to at least give Ser Jaime a trial. He is one of your Kingsguard," Ned finally said.

"Fine. Bring him in front of me."

The guards turned back to the king and walked him to the front and then let Jaime fall to the floor. He didn't catch himself and simply laid there. For a moment, Jon thought perhaps he was still unconscious, but then his head moved and he made a motion to get up. His arms trembled, but he was finally able to sit up and then he slowly and cautiously got to his feet and stood up straight. His face was bowed and mostly in shadow, but when he looked up, Jon gasped. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin was a nasty pallid gray, and whatever life had sparkled in his green eyes had gone out.

"Ser Jaime Lannister," Robert started with a snarl, "your sister was found naked, fucking you this evening. Do you deny it?"

Jon fumed. He started forward, ready to contradict the king, but Ser Barristan grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, and said, "Do not interfere."

"Jaime was raped! I saw it," Jon hissed.

"Don't put your future at jeopardy," Ser Barristan replied.

"This is a travesty of justice," Jon snapped back.

"The King is angry. I will do what I can to convince him of Ser Jaime's innocence, but you need to stay out of it."

"What of the children? What's going to happen to them?" Jaime asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Their heads will be removed along with yours and your sister's," King Robert growled.

Ser Jaime pinched his face into a grimace. He was silent for a long moment and then he asked, "If I claim the children as mine, will you spare them?" King Robert only growled, but then he fixed his eyes on Ned who was standing next to Robert, looking as grim as ever. "Promise me, Stark. Promise me you'll spare the children!"

Ned nodded and said, "I promise."

For a moment, the hatred Jaime held for Ned appeared on his face, but then he closed his eyes and he suddenly looked as old as he had when he died in the other life. "They are mine," he said in a whisper.

The crowd once again screamed to the heavens, "Kingslayer! Sisterfucker!" The sun was just starting to rise outside, so the servants were busy bringing breakfast to the rest of the household, and someone grabbed a bowl of oatmeal and threw it at him. He winced, every so slightly as the goop hit him in the shoulder and spattered down his front. He bothered to try and brush it off, but Jon noticed he had a pinched expression on his face that indicated a severe headache and another potential fit or seizure as the maester had called it.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, you and your wretched sister shall be executed tomorrow on the morn! May you rot in all seven hells. Take him away," Robert declared. The Kingsguard made to grab him by the arms once more, but he violently shrugged them away and simply started walking.

Tyrion, for a moment, made to follow, but Ser Barristan and Jon both put a hand on his shoulder.

"But Jaime ... he ... they're not his children! He doesn't deserve this," Tyrion said, his face wretched as tears ran down his cheeks.

"I know, Lord Tyrion. But what can we do?" Ser Barristan replied.

Jon tried to say something, but the words got stuck in his chest. Equal measures of panic, despair, and exhaustion were rising up to choke him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, but nothing came to mind. He hadn't even felt this hopeless facing the Night King for the last time, and this time it seemed he would be facing the Long Night without his friend by his side.