In a private room of the Red Keep, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms sat on a bed, a cup of wine in her hand.
Cersei POV
I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. A Lannister, daughter of the most powerful man in the world. And yet that fat fool insulted me in front of the small council.
I took another sip of wine. It is the only thing that calms me, the only comfort left besides my brother's cock and the company of my children. Wine stills the noise in my head and lets me breathe, if only for a moment.
The door opened. My brother stepped in, closed it, bolted it, and shrugged out of his white cloak.
"What is he doing?" I snapped.
"Who?" Jaime asked in confusion.
"That fat oaf. Who else would I mean?" I replied, sarcasm dripping like venom.
If you had inherited our father's intellect along with those Lannister good looks, you would be at Casterly Rock instead of wrapped in a Kingsguard cloak. But the gods have their twisted sense of humor.I inherited Father's cunning.
I will lead this family and make our house the greatest in the Seven Kingdoms.
"I brought the king his whores as he asked, and then I came straight back to you," Jaime said.
"He is nothing but a pig in a man's skin. He drinks, eats, hunts, sleeps, and wastes himself on whores." The humiliation burned through me like wildfire.
"Isn't it better for us, this way?" Jaime smirked, his gaze drifting to my chest. "We get more time together."
"Yes," I admitted. "But you saw how he treated me in front of everyone. And you did not stand up for me."
I will kill him one day, that drunken boar. I will watch him choke on poison. But I must wait until Joffrey comes of age so he can inherit the throne.
And that Arryn boy, that whelp, dared to look down on me. When Joffrey sits the Iron Throne, I will have the brat drowned in the Blackwater. I will teach him what it means to insult House Lannister.
That wretched little runt is nothing beside my golden boy. A minor noble, a mix of Arryn blood and Essosi dirt. How dare they whisper his name beside Joffrey's? When my son wears the crown, that boy will be on his knees serving us, and I will show him his place.
"And how could I have supported you? Do you forget I am a Kingsguard?" Jaime's frustration cracked through his perfect mask.
"You are a Lannister too. If you had spoken, it would have carried weight," I said, patience thinning.
"My words carry weight? Do not fool yourself. I am just a knight. When I took the white cloak, I left my house behind." Jaime worked at the buckles of his armor, each word heavier than the last.
"You swore many things," I said, tasting the hypocrisy. "You renounced your inheritance, and you swore not to sire any children."
Which is the point. My children will be lions, pure Lannister blood, not polluted by that drunkard's seed. Let Robert rut with whores; his filth will never touch me.
The thought of Joffrey on the Iron Throne while I rule beside him—no, above him pleased me more than Arbor gold.
"It is not like you hate it," Jaime said, shedding the last of his garments. "You know I love you." My eyes traced his body, the small cloth covering his cock barely hiding anything.
Pity I am a woman. If I were a man, I would have been like him, only smarter. I would have been Father's heir. My brother. My mirror. My blood.
I smiled, cool and secret. Soon another child by him, golden-haired, green-eyed, a lion destined to rule.
"Where is Myrcella?" Jaime asked, sitting beside me on the bed.
He was a good father. Pity we could not be open like the Targaryens once were. If only Rhaegar had chosen me instead of that Dornish girl. But Jaime is a fine replacement.
"She is with the maids. I put her to sleep myself. "His hand drifted up toward my breast. I caught it and pushed it away.
"We have something to discuss before that." Sex could wait. The night was long.
"What now?" Jaime complained. His little lion strained like a spear ready for battle.
"It is about the tourney. The bet with the Arryns," I said.
"What about it? The boy is good with weapons for his age, but he will not win," Jaime assured me.
"No. I will take no risks. One of our men will deal with the Arryn boy," I said.
"He is a child. You cannot be thinking of killing him?" Jaime sounded shocked.
If only he knew I tried once. Somehow the boy survived.
"I do not plan to kill him, only to sabotage his bow and arrows," I said.
"He will not win. Do not worry," Jaime repeated.
"But we need precautions. Do not forget what Father taught us—"
The words died as Jaime's mouth crashed into mine.
His tongue pushed in, hungry, tasting of Arbor red and impatience. His breath tangled with mine, hot enough to melt armor.
"It has been a week," Jaime murmured against my throat.
"We sure have."
I opened my gown. The silk slid from my shoulders like a sigh, leaving only a thin shift clinging to my curves.
Jaime's eyes darkened with hunger. A lion eyeing his lioness.
Yes, I am a lioness, and I will rule the Seven Kingdoms.
His mouth closed over my breast, sucking hard enough to arch my back and rip a moan from me.
"Ahhhh...ahhh" He tore my shift. Skin to skin, nothing between us.
Years of my teaching had honed him. I would be the only woman he ever touched.
His fingers rubbed my pussy, circling, teasing, tormenting until heat burned through me. I reached for his cock, long and hard. I stroked it slowly, watching his hips jerk.Pleasure twisted his face.
I pushed him down and climbed onto him like a queen taking her throne. I spit into my palm, wetting his cock, and eased it inside me.
"Ahh ohhh" I moaned. Nothing was better than this.
I rode him, our bodies meeting in perfect rhythm, sweat slick, breath ragged. Mine, I thought, scratching his chest, drawing blood like a battle banner.
The room spun with the scent of sex and sin. He was close. So was I.
For a heartbeat the world vanished. No scheming. No Robert. No Arryn boy. Just us.There is nothing like family.
POV ends
While the queen and her brothers enjoyed their usual family bonding, Jon and Yohn were passed out drunk in the Hand's Tower. Perfect chance for Lysa to sneak off and ride her sweet Petyr.
Robert Baratheon was busy conquering a dozen whores. Stamina of a warhorse, that one.
Across the city, brothels were full, husbands and wives were cheating, and King's Landing echoed with moans and bad decisions.
Since everyone was riding someone, Renly decided he deserved some affection too—not from a woman but from a cute squire who had been giving him looks all evening.
Varys was with his little birds, gathering his daily supply of information and sending messages to Illyrio Mopatis. Why was he not enjoying this night of pleasure? Because the gods had stolen his equipment long ago.
And finally, our completely bitchless main character stood on his balcony, using his second gift: the power to talk to and command birds. He had gathered all eligible birds.
Why? Because while everyone else was busy with sex or plotting or sleeping, he needed an airforce and a spy agency.
Pity the only recruits in King's Landing were ravens, crows, pigeons, and a few useless small birds. No eagles or falcons anywhere.
Artys Arryn stood on one side of his balcony, arms folded behind him. In front of him were three neat lines of birds: ravens, crows, and pigeons. Each bird raised one wing up, attempting a salute.
"Coo coo"
"Caw caw"
"Gronk gronk"
In human language, it translated to:
"Heil Führer"
"Roma invicta"
"For the emperor"
And thus, the Luftwaffe and the F.B.I. (the Feathered Bureau of Investigation) were born.