Cersei

Cersei Lannister remembered each of her 'first times' at the Red Keep.

When her father had first brought her there the people of the court had noticed her at once, all wanting to speak with her. Women had paused what they were doing to welcome her to the Red Keep and invite her to join them for tea. Men had stopped and complimented her dress and her hair. All had suggested she befriend their daughters and spend time with their sons. Even the Mad King, who back then hadn't been that mad at all, had said that she was a pretty little thing who was 'a credit to her beautiful mother'. She didn't quite understand, even after all these years, why her father had gripped her shoulder before she could say a word and forced her to continue moving on. The King of the Seven Kingdoms had complimented her!

But what she also remembered was Rhaegar. She had been hoping that she might spend some time with him, for it was only proper that they get to know each other, seeing as they would be wed once she flowered. Her father had claimed though that she was tired from the journey when the Queen had brought up giving them a tour, which was foolish! She hadn't been tired at all… he perhaps had been tired but it wasn't right that his weak constitution had kept her from viewing the castle that would become her home. The Queen had been going to show her about her home, Cersei's future home. It was an event like out of the old stories, the passing of the torch. But her father had denied her that and pushed her along.

Yet she had managed to spot Rhaegar.

He had looked utterly beautiful. Not handsome as so many claimed; he was beautiful. She had briefly thought that he wasn't a person at all but a statue, for he had been seated in the godswood of the Red Keep, silent and still as he looked up at the trees with a serene smile on his lips. A monument crafted to honor the Targaryens, made of marble and silver, to show that they were truly beyond mortals.

And then he had moved, causing her to gasp in wonder, and taken out his harp and begun to play.

The music had stayed with her for decades. The sad yet touching notes that Cersei had instantly understood the meaning of. The smallfolk had loved to claim that no one could understand why Prince Rhaegar played what he did, that his choices in music followed reasoning only he could understand. It was said how at a wedding for Lord Velyreon's niece he had played such a sad song that all had wept yet at a Theon's Night celebration, a time of terrors and frights, he had chosen a song so cheerful that even the dead that had haunted the halls had laughed and sang along with the rest of the crowd. But when she had heard his song that day in the godswood she had known that he was playing a lament that he had no one to stand beside him and Cersei had been driven to cry out that she was there and his lonely days had come and gone.

He would have been her gentle soul… and Jaime her strong flesh.

But… her father had taken her away. And what few times she'd been able to see Prince Rhaegar had been far too short.

(She dimly remembered that it hadn't been the godswood where she had first met him but at the Tourney to celebrate the birth of his brother, Viserys. But that simply couldn't be right… Cersei knew her own life and knew what had come to pass! She had dreamed of him often but she knew what was real…)

When she'd been forced to leave the Red Keep because of the foolishness of King Aerys and what she realized now was the utter failure of her father to do what should have been done to claim her birthright she had thought she would never return again. That she had been denied what was her's and the world would never make sense again. Her Prince was forced to marry that ugly little creature from Dorne and Cersei had wept for him. How could he ever hope to be happy with her, with her dark skin and ebony locks and grating accent when he knew that Cersei lived? For months every time she'd heard a rider enter Casterly Rock's main courtyard she had looked up anxiously, believing it to be Rhaegar proclaiming that he had come for her and they could begin their lives that would be filled with happiness. And when Ellia had born him a daughter Cersei had cursed out her father and Aerys in the privacy of her room, knowing that had they done the right thing and married him to her she would have provided the kingdom with strong sons that would bring about a new golden age. Silver and Gold. Rhaegar and Her. The world had made no sense.

But then the world had made even less sense.

Rhaegar came not to Casterly Rock but the Riverlands and abducted that northern whore Lyanna Stark. When Cersei had first heard the news she had thought it to be lies. NEVER would Rhaegar sully himself with the likes of her. 'But he crowned her the Queen of Love and Beauty' people whispered, to which Cersei would answer that it was the same way a knight would humor an ugly child and accept the flowers the tossed to them. It had meant nothing. She herself had been crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty at many Lannisport tourneys, after all! 'But Lyanna is the Winter Rose' they replied. A piffle! Roses died in the winter!

And then her Silver Prince had fallen to the Demon of the Trident and Cersei had been given another chance to claim nearly all she desired. Yes, she would never know Rhaegar's touch but she would be queen and that was all that mattered.

When she had entered the Red Keep that time it had been as its future Queen and all had shown her the respect she deserved. Servants bowed and wept. Ladies flocked to her like birds. Men stared at her with open desire and despair, wishing to claim her and yet knowing they would never be able to do so.

All had been right in the world.

As Cersei moved through the halls of the Red Keep that morning a sense of wrongness filler her. She thought of those previous times and was struck by how much had changed, how different things had been rendered… and felt herself growing furious.

Servants moved past her, barely even nodding to acknowledge her, let alone bow. Knights did not drop to one knee or offer her tokens of devotion. Chambermaids went about their business, acting as if she weren't even there.

It didn't help that her head was killing her, skull throbbing as she fought off the affects of the night before. Because she refused to touch a drop of Reach wine or Dornish she had gotten bottles imported from Essos and the latest ones, while rather delicious, were far stronger than what she was used to and had left her head swimming the night before… and her body aching now.

Cersei stormed into one of the dining halls only to find it utterly empty. She looked about, a scowl on her features, as she stared at the empty table, the closed shutters, and the vacant seats.

Poking her head back out of the room she glowered when she spotted a maid walking by and waved her over. "You! Where is everyone?"

"What do you mean, your grace?" the woman said and Cersei's jaw clenched at how the woman asked the question. No tremble as she spoke. No whimpering. No rush to answer the question. Just questioning what Cersei had said. The maid had coal black hair and dark eyes that at once reminded Cersei of Robert and if it weren't for the fact that she was at least 5 years older than Cersei she would have thought she was one of his bastards. She had been VERY careful to make sure not a single one of his children got near the Red Keep, always fearful that if they were seen with Joffrey, Myrcella, or Tommen someone would realize the truth. It was why she had done all she could to keep Robert from visiting Storm's End, lest he see Edric Storm. It was bad enough he sent him gifts, same as he did with that little bitch Myra Stone in the Vale. But no, the woman could not have been Robert's and he had tended to prefer more exotic lasses after their marriage; something that bothered Cersei to no end but ESPECIALLY when he bedded blonde women. It was a slap in her face, a mockery of her.

"I mean," she bit out, temper growing worse as she thought of her thankfully dead husband, "where is everyone? I came here to break my fast and I see no one. Where is my son? Where is my uncle? My aunt?"

The maid frowned, utterly confused by her question and Cersei wondered if she shouldn't just shove the brainless dolt in a Black Cell. "His grace is at his lessons along with your uncle and his new instructor."

"New instructor…" Cersei murmured before remembering that, yes, Tommen did have a new instructor that her uncle had found him. He had mentioned that he wished for someone other than Pycelle to instruct the boy and Cersei had agreed with him; though not for the reason her uncle had suggested. Kevan was concerned that Pycelle was too old and already was struggling to complete what tasks were given him. Cersei knew him to be a traitorous creature and with her father dead she did not trust at all that his loyalties had been transferred to her.

No… far better Tommen learn under the newly arrived Maester, in this case Maester Loptr, than under Pycelle.

'I will need to seek him out soon and ensure he becomes my ally in full,' Cersei though, mind considering the young red-headed maester.

" I am not for sure about your aunt but I can find her if you wish," the maid continued.

"Lessons?" Cersei though suddenly asked, realizing just what the maid had said. "Why is he having lessons before he has eaten?"

"Eaten?" the maid repeated.

"Eaten, you dolt!" Cersei thundered. "Food! Are you so addled in your head that you don't understand such a basic concept?"

"I understood, your grace," the woman said and Cersei was rendered silent by the fact that the woman was still TALKING BACK TO HER. "But your family has long eaten. His grace has been up for hours; he trained in the yard with Lord Jon and then broke his fast with him and Ser Kevan before going to his lessons with Maester Loptr."

"Hours?" Cersei demanded. "My son has been up for hours? Who dared allow that!? He is a little boy and they are waking him during the Hour of the Wolf!?"

"Hour of the Wolf?" the maid said. "No, your grace. Your son awoke at dawn."

"Dawn?"

The maid nodded, face softening in a look of pity that made Cersei want to rip her heart out and crush it between her fingers. "Yes, your grace. It is now past noon."

"Impossible," Cersei declared but even as she said the word she thought back to the night before. She'd become angry that Uncle Kevan had gone to a dinner hosted by the Stark Bastard… one she wasn't invited too. Never mind that she would never want to dine with him or his dornish whore but her being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms should have meant that she was given an invitation. But she had been ignored and been forced to dine with several of the ladies of the court… a tiresome thing to do even on the best days. But her anger at the disrespect she had been shown… the only way she'd gotten through the meal was by drowning herself in wine to try and numb the pain that came from their shrill voices and annoying complains about their lives and their desires.

And afterwards she had retreated to her room to have a nightcap… and another… and another…

Cersei frowned. She had thought that the light she'd seen out her window was the full moon but she also remembered it raining that night, blocking out the moonlight and the stars…

"And no one thought to find me when I did not show up to break my fast?" she complained.

The maid though did not show an ounce of worry at the scolding she was receiving. "You have not come to any of the morning meals since before his grace King Robert passed, your grace."

"That… that does not matter!" Cersei exclaimed. "I am hungry and you will see that I am fed!"

"Of course, your grace," the maid said. "If you will come with me."

But Cersei remained rooted in place. "I wish to eat here. Why do you not have this room prepared?"

"Your grace, we have not used the Ruby Room for meals since I came to the Red Keep."

She found that impossible to believe. She remembered well eating in that room with her father, sometimes joined by the other ladies in waiting… "And when was that? 10 minutes ago?" she said snidely.

"I served first as a coal girl in 275 AC, your grace."

Cersei felt her brow flex at that.

'275… how long ago was that? Only a few years, surely. I came to the Red Keep for the first time when I was but a girl of Seven and I am… I am…'

She couldn't even remember how old she was.

Cersei found herself glancing at one of the polished mirror shields that hung on the wall. They had been designed, according to Maester Pycelle, to bounce the light around the halls when the winter months came, to brighten up the Red Keep. That way a million candles weren't needed. Cersei didn't know if that was true, as she couldn't remember spending a winter in King's Landing. At that moment though her greater fear was what she would see in its reflection.

For one terrible moment she had a vision of looking into the metal and seeing an old crone looking back at her. One with only a few teeth in her mouth, gums pocked with holes and a tongue that was rough and dry. A leathery face that was hung down all over, obscuring her misty white eyes. Thin gray-white hair that fell in greasy strands. A skeletal body that looked half decomposed already.

But what she found was her own face staring back at her. Perhaps a touch more… bloated… than she was used to, but she figured that was merely the shield distorting everything.

"Your grace?" the maid said softly. "They are serving a late meal in the Ivory Room."

"What?" Cersei said before shaking her head. "Yes… yes that will be… hurry along." The maid nodded and Cersei found herself being led through the halls of the Red Keep once more, trying to regain some sense of order. 'This is more than the wine,' she thought. 'This is someone working against me. Trying to rip away my power. Telling the servants to disobey me. Show me disrespect. Lie to me and try and make me think I am a fool!'

She was suddenly convinced that the Ruby Room had been used for ALL the smaller meals. That it was by the orders of someone else that they had been closed and the maids forced to claim that it had never been used in years.

'I should demand her to be taken to a Black Cell at once,' Cersei suddenly though. 'Order the dungeon master to torture her until she gives up the names! Reveal who her masters are and why they have done this!' She narrowed her eyes as they continued on, studying the woman's features. 'A Northerner? She has the tongue of one… no, she isn't brutish enough to from North of the Neck. Not Dornish either. Perhaps a Stormlander? Yes… one of the last remaining ladies brought by Stannis or Renly to try and gain a foothold in the Red Keep. A follower of those usurpers, looking to take advantage of my sweet Joffrey's passing to try and make way for Stannis to return! Well, I won't let her!' She raised her false hand, ready to dash it against the woman's skull-

"Your grace," the maid said and Cersei blinked to find that her thoughts had blinded her to their journey and they were now at the Ivory Room…

…which was flanked by men wearing the gold and green of House Tyrell.

Men that weren't loyal to her. Who didn't know their place. Who might still hold it in their head to defend the innocent.

"Of course…" Cersei whispered, quickly dropped her hand back down to her side.

The maid opened her mouth to speak but Cersei breezed past her, entering the Ivory Room to find the table loaded down with all sorts of dishes. There was a duck that was cooked to a deep brown color, rich sauce drizzled over the top. Platters of mashed vegetables topped with butter. A half of a fish, deboned and descaled, with cherry tomatoes in place of its eyes. Large crabs brought in from the far north waters of the Sunset Sea. Meat pies with golden crusts that looked ready to burst, they were so overfilled. Dozens of scents wafted up into Cersei's nose, making her headache at once disappear and her stomach growl in an unladylike manner as she suddenly found herself utterly ravenous.

But she wasn't alone in the Ivory Room.

"Ah, your grace!" Lord Mace Tyrell said from where he sat, a wide smile on his lips as he waved to her. "Please sit! I have been abandoned by my family and would love for the company."

Cersei narrowed her eyes, her mind solidifying at once upon the Fat Flower. All thoughts that the maid might have been a creature of Stannis or Renly disappeared. No… she knew the truth now: she belonged to the Tyrells. The greedy, clawing, vain, sinister Tyrells. The ones that had filled the Red Keep with their men and who had bound themselves to the throne through marriage and fill the Kingsguard with their family members and allies. It was a pathetic attempt to do as Cersei herself had done during Robert's rule and she felt her anger growing as she stared at the Lord of the Reach.

And yet just as quickly as the anger came… it faded as a new plan entered into her mind.

'Lord Tyrell is the weak link of his family. Margaery is a conniving little snake. While her brother is a swordswallower through and through he has learned how to hide those aspects of himself… and that makes him a dangerous foe. And their grandmother is poison given physical form. But Mace Tyrell? He is a fat fool who is focused only on his own pleasures. I can work with this… twist him towards the direction I desire. His family will not dare speak out against him…'

Plastering on her best smile, the one she had used at feasts and parties where it simply wouldn't do for her to reveal her darker thoughts, Cersei took a seat near Lord Tyrell, ignoring the small twinge of disgust that she had to allow him the seat of honor that should have been her's by right. "Quite a meal, Lord Tyrell."

"Ah, I wish to sample a bit of everything," he said with a jovial chuckle. "I imagine the rest of my family will be slowly coming in, soon enough. They are all quite busy, after all, while I have found myself with a bit of a day of leisure." He chuckled at that and Cersei gave a nod though she didn't know what she was agreeing to; sometimes one had to nod just to show they had heard a fool's poor joke. "Of course, life is never slow for any of us, is it? So many things we need to handle…"

Cersei, seeing her opening, did her best to look utterly casual as she selected some of the already cut apart duck and placed it on her plate. While she hungered for some food that was more fitting for breaking her fast she didn't want to risk causing any other distractions by calling for a servant to fetch her more food and then having to explain to her bloated companion why the request was made. "I can only imagine," she told him as she added some yams to her plate. Lord Tyrell poured her some wine and she gave another nod, picking it up and giving it a swirl. "It must be so hard for you, dealing with all you have on your plate."

"And you don't mean the food!" Mace said with a chuckle and Cersei once more forced her lips not to slip from the smile she was plastering upon them.

"Quite," she said. "You have a seat on the Small Council, of course, and that is rather important… but we are in the midst of Autumn. The last chances to get crops grown and harvested have arrived. I have heard plenty of people worry about how it is all being managed… oh, I try and assure them that you have it all well in hand but they still worry, of course. Your eldest is handling the day-to-day business of the Reach, is he not?"

"Willas?" Mace asked, as if he weren't for sure himself and that made Cersei at once cringe at such stupidity and delighted in how unsure and unsteady her foe was. "Yes yes, he is running things. A bright boy."

"Oh, very bright, I am sure," Cersei stated quickly. "But… it is his first time ruling on his own and children are never quite ready their first time."

"I agree," Mace said, going for some honey rolls. "That was the issue with Joffrey, was it not? He thought he knew how to rule but still had so much to learn."

Cersei felt her smile slip. "That is… a bit different."

"Oh?" Mace asked with a smile as he began to tear apart his roll. He didn't seem offended, which was a good sign for Cersei.

'The dimwit doesn't even realize he's being insulted,' she thought in delight. A part of her wanted to push a bit more, to get in some verbal stabs at the Tyrells… 'No,' she thought hastily. 'A few barbs only heard by a fool who doesn't even understand them isn't worth the deliciousness of finally ridding myself of these traitorous fools. I must show restraint… it is no different from how Jaime spoke of swordsplay. A few feints yes but it is all about waiting for the correct moment to make one's strike…'

Outloud she said, "Well, Joffrey had his family with him. Myself, my father, my Uncle Kevan. People who knew how to rule and could guide him. All your son has is himself."

"His brother Garlan is there," Mace said, not taking her bait. "A smart boy… a charmer too. He was originally going to settle into his own Keep, we hadn't decided which one yet, but when the War came and then the need for my household to come to King's Landing-"

'As if it were my fault you had to arrive,' Cersei thought bitterly. 'Had father just listened to me…'

"-staying until everything is sorted," Mace finished, Cersei having missed quite a bit of his statement. "He will be fine."

"I am happy you have such faith in him," Cersei said, deciding to go about with a different approach. "It can be so hard to trust your children when it comes to such things; the worry about them, sometimes it is… crippling." She paused, letting the word hang in the air. "It won't be too much on him, though?" She said slyly. "It is a lot of work that will need to be done. I imagine he will need to tour the fields, visit the farms, oversee where all the crops are kept… tiring work, even for someone in the prime of life."

But Mace didn't even react to her veiled comments about his heir and his condition. She wondered if he even realized she was hinting at Willas' bad leg.

'Very possible the fool has completely forgotten about it,' she thought before continuing on. "Many are worried you won't be there to oversee things," she told him with all the sweetness of honey. Of course, people forgot honey was so sweet because the bees that made it were so dangerous. "You are a steadying force. One that calms people's fears and ensures that all keeps moving as it always has. I have heard so many praise your skills and your ability to lead… and they wonder if your son is ready. Please don't think it a slight against him… we both know that any son of yours will prove your equal one day." She paused. "But… is today that day? This has been the longest summer in over 500 years, according to the Citadel." Actually she had no clue if it was but it sounded good to say. "And the winter will need to match it. The Reach is the heart of Westeros… all know that. And now your son finds himself, as his first task leading your lands, dealing with what might very well be the last harvest in a generation. Is it truly wise to trust him with this task? All on his own?"

She paused.

"That is what the smallfolk say, of course. I trust your judgment." She knew it was important to make the threat not be her. People were so foolish when told the truth and wanted to lash out at anyone they deemed as the cause of their own incompetence. It was better to have them lash out at some 'other', rather than the one that was speaking plainly. "You know your son well. You raised him after all… understand his strengths and, of course, his weaknesses." She stabbed at some of her duck and popped it into her mouth, allowing Mace to chew on that bit of information while she chewed on her meal. "You do know what is best for all… that is what the smallfolk say."

Mace stared at him with his big dumb eyes, his flabby face never losing even an ounce of its cheerfulness as he began to use his honey roll to sop up some of the juices on his plate. He brought the damp roll to his mouth, practically sucking it in as he stared right at her. It honestly made Cersei squirm in disgust at the sight of it.

Finally he spoke. "it is a hard thing to determine… when to trust your children. You want to protect them. You remember when they were small and helpless. Little squirming things that would cry if their swaddling wasn't just right and didn't have the strength to pull it over their shivering little forms." He reached over and selected a hardboiled egg, cutting into it with his knife before using a spoon to spread some yellow cream upon it. "You spend so much of their lives preparing for them to go out on their own that when the time comes for you to see the fruits of your labor you can't help but wish that they would wait a bit longer. The greatest irony of life, I suppose. When a child is born everyone talks about what kind of man or woman they will be. Who they will marry, what victories they will achieve, how they will bring glory to their family. Yet when that time comes we long for them to be babes once again. Your father did the same thing for you and your brothers, I am sure. Even with his hatred for Lord Tyrion he considered what fate would bring.

"My mother did that for me too. Looked down upon me and gauged just what kind of man I would become. Oh, everyone likes to say that she at once saw me as a fool. I've heard tell that her first words, upon being given me by the maester, was to declare "We must have another, this one is an idiot". An amusing tale… I enjoyed crafting it."

Cersei frowned. This was… well, not the most she'd ever heard Mace Tyrell speak. He loved to ramble on and on, almost making it an art form how he could say so many words yet not actually SAY anything. But the way he was talking now? It was very off-putting, especially since he kept his tone the same light bluster he always did.

"But… one has to trust their children. Because it means trusting ourselves. That we did a good job in raising them." He smiled as his lifted up his wine glass. "That is something the two of us have in common, isn't it? That we've had to raise children. No one gives people like us credit for that. How hard it is, with all we have to do, to be able to raise our children." Cersei found herself struck dumb and silent by that.

'How is it that the Fat Flower of Highgarden is the only one to truly understand?' she found herself wondering. 'So many women do not understand… they look upon me and think I have done nothing for my children. That I am little more than an opening that shoots out heirs and spares. How can it be that a man who has never known what it is like to carry a child understands the burden and the pain that comes from having to let them go?'

"I trust my son," Mace continued, Cersei captivated by what he was saying. "I have to. I can not keep him close to me forever… he will grow to hate me otherwise."

She thought of her own father. How the oh so mighty Lord Tywin Lannister had shown her so little faith and trust. How he had belittled her and mocked her and seen everything she did as foolish. And how she had hated him for it; all love she might have felt for him, as small as it was, disappearing due to how he treated her.

"So I give him things I know he can handle. The running of the Reach and the Harvests… those are simple tasks. I have spent many years making sure that everything was set up so that our entire line could disappear for a year and all would go on as it always has. I certainly wouldn't give him control of my important duties. Perhaps one day… but not yet."

And with that he raised his hand and Cersei turned in time to see the Tyrell guards closing the doors, the clang that came after they were shut alerting her that they had been locked in place with some kind of beam or board. She snapped her gaze back towards Mace and suddenly he didn't appear as jovial as he had moments ago.

"I have raised my son as my mother raised me. My eldest… he is a smart lad. Everyone knows it. They all talk about how he will be a far more cunning ruler than I have ever been. That he is lucky my mother is around to rule for she has ensured I don't lead the Reach into utter ruin." He smiled and though nothing had changed in HOW he smiled… there was still something about the way he twitched his lips upwards that had Cersei's stomach drop. "He is handsome too… gallant like his brother. Oh the ladies loved to watch him when he was younger, riding on his horse. I explained all of this too him, of course. How he was known to be smart and handsome and charming."

He paused.

"He was known… to be smart and charming. Known to be a good leader. And… that simply wouldn't do. If he had taken after me things would have been easier. My mother had seen early on that I favored my simple father in looks and people would assume I was much the same. That would be my armor… this bulk on me." He patted his stomach and chuckled; in Cersei's ears the belly laugh was the cackle of a demon. "Just as her gender was her armor. Everyone looks past us… dismisses us. She for being an old woman and I a fat happy man. We can't be smart or cunning. Even when we prove that we are."

He leaned back in his chair and let out a wistful smile.

"I have never been more proud of my boy, after his fall from that horse, than when he asked for that hammer and shattered his own leg."

Cersei pushed away from the table.

"I'm going to have to ask you to sit down, your grace," Mace said, his tone still light and friendly. No dark edge. No malicious tint to his words.

That made matters all the worse.

"We both understand the burden of ruling," he told her even as Cersei remained rooted to the floor, unable to budge. He reached over and selected a fish steak, adding it to his plate before adding a dollop of sauce to it. "You are the Queen of Westeros. I am a king, in my own way. Not of lands, of course… honestly I'd rather not rule lands. A forest does not listen to you when you give it a command. A stream does not obey when you explain what will happen if it does not do as it is told. You can't torture a mountain for failing you." He looked up at her, eyes still bright and playful. "People… I will always prefer being a king of people. A certain kind of people."

She remained utterly silent.

"I set up the Reach to manage its harvests and its governance so I could focus on what truly matters. Westeros is not a peaceful place, your grace. You know that. Even without all the wars there are plenty of dangers. What is needed is a strong hand to make sure things are run properly.

"There will always be those that break the laws of the land. The thieves, the killers, the rapists. They will always exist. They can't be gotten rid of; to believe otherwise is to be a fool. Our society is BUILT around them! If there were no thieves there would be no need for guards and suddenly you have a bunch of men with anger issues and a need to feel powerful and mighty with nothing to do. The jailers, the headsmen… even kings and queens. If all the people of Westeros got along what purpose would you have, your grace? Why would anyone care about you if they didn't NEED you. So let's be clear that the people we so love to scorn and hate serve a purpose. One could argue they are the underpinnings of our society.

"Now… if allowed to run rampant they can cause all manner of problems. We can't have them breaking down doors and raping highborn girls before making off with every bit of coin in the castle can we? But that isn't to say that they all must be torn from the ground root and stem. If carefully monitored… well, then they serve a purpose. Your maids steal from you. My servants do too. But so long as they know just how far they can go then I see no harm in it." He chuckled. "Frankly it's a blessing many times. We have so much that without them taking their bits and pieces I'd wager we'd drown.

"So how to strike that balance? How to ensure that society is able to function? That is where those little pins need someone to tell them what to do. What the lines are. To monitor all crime in Westeros and ensure that it fits into the great plans. A… Kingpin, if you will."

"And… and you are saying you are that man?" Cersei got out.

"Very much yes," Mace replied. "Surprised?" He said it in such a teasing tone. "I told you… I have worked hard to cultivate my image. To make people see me how I wished them to see me. It would do no good if all the highborn lords and ladies realized that all the cutthroats, pickpockets, and break-in experts answered to me! Would be such a scandal!" He paused, sipping his wine. "And prevent me from collecting some good coin. I don't do this out of the kindness of my heart, after all!"

Cersei stared at him with growing horror. Either he was telling the truth… or he was quite mad.

"Why are you telling me this?" she spat out. "Do you believe that I am going to work with you? Become your partner-"

Mace broke out into deep laughter that had his entire body jiggling. "No no no. I'm sorry but you aren't suited for this kind of work. It requires a bit of humility, something you utterly lack. Though I do admit you have created your own armor but not on purpose. People dismiss you because you are an idiot… not because you make them believe you are. No… I am telling you this because I know how you have tried to muddle things up for my family and this is me informing you that it ends now."

And even then… he didn't lose his light tone or jovial smile.

"I have plans for Westeros. So do my allies. Ones that would frankly leave you utterly stunned. Now, rest assure there are places for your son and daughter. Good little ones, both of them. There may even be a place for you… but I doubt it. I think you could never accept that. But others want me to at least try and make you accept. So… this is me offering you the chance to enjoy your days in power in peace, accept that they will be coming to an end, and then allow yourself to drift off to a comfortable time of peace."

Cersei narrowed her eyes at that. "So it comes to this, then? You wish to steal what is mine and believe I will stand by idly?"

"I believe nothing. As I said I know you won't accept. But I agreed to at least try." He held up his hand. "And before you make the many threats that are currently bouncing upon your tongue… I ask you to think of how the Red Keep is now. Truly think about it. The Small Council is nearly empty of all your creatures. Your Uncle holds no loyalty you, save for family but even then he will always support his own sons and daughters over the niece that causes him problems. The Hand of the King will never forget that you and your son killed his trueborn sister. The head of the Goldcloaks is far friendlier with Jon Stark thanks to him taking his son as a squire. Lord Octavius will never side with you and it has nothing to do with his connections to me. Rather he respects intelligence, of which you have little. The Kingsguard is being filled by men that owe me much. The guards you have long cultivated died fighting for the city and were replaced not just by my men but Lannister men who owe money to people in my employ. Simply put, your grace… if you try to stand against me you will find yourself in the Maiden Vault."

Cersei considered him for a long moment before she reached over and began to undo the straps of her false hand. She knew what must be going through the man's mind: that this was some show of weakness. Of submission.

'He spoke of cultivating his image. Making it his armor. The loss of my hand is mine.'

Before he could even have a chance to react Cersei called forth the purple energy that seemed to always be crackling just under the surface of her skin. The gift she had gained when Stannis had tried to take the throne from her. As always it formed into a purple blade and Cersei rushed forward, counting on the man's shock to allow her to gut him like a fish or slice his neck so deeply his head would flop right off-

Her entire body came to such a sudden stop that it felt like her heart had slammed right into her breast bone. Her arms froze in place and she found herself being yanked back, neck snapping so hard it made her entire back and shoulders scream in outrage.

"Now that is interesting," Margaery Tyrell said, emerging from the shadows. Cersei wondered how in the Seven Hells she had missed her… but then she became utterly focused on the crackling red bands of energy that were wrapped around her arms. They reminded her of when one of the fish mongers in Lannisport had brought slithering eels to Casterly Rock for a party, kept in a great wooden trough, that would spark and glow. One of the dinner guests had stupidly reached inside the water and ended up screaming in pain when the eels had shocked him. The bands were just like the eels… except they held onto Cersei tight, like serpents. "I assumed if anyone would have become a mutant it would have been Tyrion Lannister. He seemed far more likely."

"And perhaps easier to deal with," Mace said in consideration, rubbing his chin as he rose up.

"What-" Cersei began only for Margaery to wave her hand and the Queen to gasp as a red band appeared around her throat, glowing slightly before she felt it tighten, cutting off anything she was about to say.

"Shhhh," Margaery said with a dark and playful smirk, "none of that." She began to stalk towards Cersei and despite all her struggles she couldn't free herself. "None of that at all. I have had to listen to you at so many feasts whine about a thousand different meaningless things and quite frankly I am tired of hearing your voice." She raised her hand up, Cersei noticing the red glow upon them as well, and squeezed her fingers slowly towards her palm. The action caused the band around her throat to tighten at Cersei's vision began to swim. "Or… perhaps not…"

The pressure gave way and Cersei sucked in mouthfuls of blessed air. But her relief was short-lived as Margaery pointed with her index and middle finger and Cersei, to her own horror, watched as her arm lifted and the purple energy blade began to slowly move towards her temple.

It took her far too long to realize she could simply stop channeling the blade. The moment it disappeared she smirked in defiance and victory but Margaery merely smiled before she suddenly spread her hands away from one another.

Cersei screamed as her arms snapped out in opposite directions, twin pops filling her ears as her shoulders dislocated.

"Margaery," Mace said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "That is enough. We aren't ready to be rid of her yet."

"Of course," Margaery replied with a false sweet smile and Cersei screamed when her arms were forced back into their sockets. She fell to her knees, moaning pitifully.

"As for why I have told you all this?" Mace asked, looking down at her. "No one will believe you."

"Assuming we allowed you to say a word," Margaery said and like a viper she struck out, grabbing Cersei's head, thumbs pressing against her temples. Her vision went crimson and she screamed so loudly and for so long her voice finally gave out. It was only the strain she felt in her mouth that let her know-

"Your grace, are you okay?"

Cersei looked up, startled to find herself lying on the floor with several of the Red Keep guards hovering over her. All of them wore the colors of House Lannister and as they helped her up she saw Mace Tyrell seated in his chair, looking rather concerned.

"She had a terrible fall," he said. "I think a lack of sleep."

'You are a liar and I want your head! Guards, kill him now!'

That is what she wanted to say.

"Yes, I need sleep," she found herself saying it a weak voice.

'Kill him! And his whore daughter! She is a witch!'

"Shall we ring for your maid to see to you?" a guard asked.

"Yes," Cersei said instantly kindly.

She tried again and again. To scream. To demand. To beg.

Nothing.

She could say nothing.

Except, she came to realized in the days to come and her mouth gave voice to words that were not her own, exactly WHAT Margaery Tyrell wanted her to say…