The Lonely Lioness - Cersei Lannister Quest

When the next day dawned, Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, first of his name, was already dead. No one had been there with him that night. He passed quietly in between the Grand Maesters hourly checks. At least that was what Pycelle claimed in the early morning hours when the Kingsguard went from room to room to let any noble born man, woman and child in the Red Keep know the news.

Cersei had been one of the first to hear it, the grinning face and tender lips of Jaime greeting her when she awoke that morning. His good cheer did not last long. She had barely slept that night, instead preparing urgently for Roberts death. Finding the High Septon the day before was easy, but getting the pompous moron to listen had not been. He kept trying to give her counsel or receit scripture to assuage her fears. She was tired. It was as if she was trying to explain something to Tommen. But she was also determined. In the end, he had understood. Things would be fine after Ned Stark was gone. Everything would be fine again.

While she got clothed, she bade Jaime to gather the court immediately and to have the maids dress Joffrey for the ocassion. It was a grand mummers play they were about to give in the throne room of the Red Keep. Not one of the good ones. It was barely rehearsed and the actors left much to be desired in Cerseis opinion. Half of them did not even know what their lines would be. But yet everything hinged on this going well enough to sweep aside the accussations against her son. Soon, everyone would know the allegation one way or another. The truth wouldn't matter if nobody believed it though. It had to work. The alternative was unthinkable.

So, she had little choice to play her role in this, as galling as it was to use the High Septon as her mouthpiece instead of speaking herself. Cersei had taken the place of honour right next to the towering monstrosity that was the Iron Throne, her son Joffrey hidden from her view by the forest of blades in between them. To her right stood the fat idiot, wearing the gaudy crystal crown of his office and stealing glances at her while smiling. Once she had finally managed to get through to him how important his aid was, the High Septon had readily supported her. Now he was insufferably smug and basking in the knowledge that the queen needed him for this.

What she needed the most though were the Kingsguard and the Lannister armsmen guarding the throne room. All except Selmy were present, the Hound taking his customary position at the stairs of the throne instead, and Jaime had come through and gathered 20 good men in red cloaks to bolster their numbers. They all stood in honour guard around the throne, trying to look as inconspicious as armed men could look in a throne room. There were more though. Dozens of Gold Cloaks stood on the balconies and on the edges of the cavernous hall, where the courtiers were slowly gathering. She had not asked for their presence.

"They are late," a thin and whiny voice came from the throne. Joffrey coughed awkwardly and tried again, shouting to be heard in the hall and making his voice hitch in the process. "They are late. Why is the Small Council making their king wait?"

Nobody answered him, as there was not really anything to say, but it certainly had made the wait more awkward. Was he fidgeting? Gnawing on his lip again? Deep in her soul, Cersei hated that she could not sit next to Joffrey on the throne. Or see him at least. It would have been so much easier to help her son if Aegon the Conqueror had made a more sensible throne.

The main gate to the throne room swung open a few agonozingly slowly passing moments later. Selmy was taking point, followed by Stark and Baelish and some armsmen in northern livelery. It was not a formation coming for a friendly talk and both Varys and Pycelle awkwardly trailed behind the group. After looking over the room, Eddard Starks gaze came to rest on Cersei in silent judgement while Barristan carefully eyed the other Kingsguards. His hand was not quite on the pommel of his sword, but close enough to still be worrisome.

There was a long, awkward silence before Joffrey spoke. "Your king has summoned you," he intoned carefully while trying his best to sound deeper and more regal. "My father has passed and that means it is time for you to affirm your oaths to your new liege."

More silence followed until Stark stepped forward. "The Small council was about to convene to read the will of the late king Robert. He dictated it to me yesterday. The queen Cersei and Grand Maester Pycelle stood as witnesses to that." He paused awkwardly, his eyes once more locking with Cerseis. Fearful. Almost pleading. She let a smile show in return and his eyes wandered back to Joffrey. "While I would have preferred to have this solemn matter resolved in private, it seems the court will bear witness."

The eunuch immediately produced the damnable little scroll and the High Septon beckoned him closer. "Let me, Lord Varys. It has always been the faith that stood neutral in such matters."

Cersei ignored them entirely, instead focusing on the others. Stark was nervous. The same stiff pose and hurried glances she had seen from him whenever he was trying to hide something. Next to him, Baelish was the opposite. He wore this insufferably smug grin that he liked to put on when he knew something his opposite did not. Did he feel secure because the Gold Cloaks outnumbered the Red Cloaks about seven to one? The longer Cersei studied him, the more nervous she felt herself. Barristan was the only one she could not get a read at all on as he and the Hound glared at each other for some reason.

The High Septon stopping his droning recital of the dead stags last will brought Cersei's attention back to him. She saw him turn directly to Eddard with badly feigned surprise. "Lord Stark, you said you wanted to resolve this in private, but this will seems clear. It names you regent until king Joffrey comes of age. What is there to resolve?"

The northern lords gaze shifted into the distance and Cersei breathed a small sigh of relief. He should have spent less time training with a sword and more into lying better than a boy scolded by the septa. "Joffrey Waters is not Robert Baratheons son. He is a bastard. And so are his sister and brother."

"Lies! Baseless slander from an ursurper!" Cersei shouted over the roars of the crowd and she did not have to play up her rage all that much. If Stark had just taken her offers. If he had just gone back to the North.

"Calm. Calm, I say!" The High Septon waved his arms to quiet the court, his double-chin jiggling awkwardly all the while. He did not wait though for actual quiet, instead half yelling questions at Stark. "You have any proof of that? Why would you hide this until now? Did king Robert know? And who would you make our king then, Lord Stark?"

"Stannis Baratheon. The kings elder brother is his rightful heir."

"You want to take my crown and give it to my uncle the sept burner?" This time Joffrey even managed to sound regal in his outrage. He had not known his role in the play, but Cersei had trusted her sweet boy to stand up for himself. All it took was making sure he knew why his uncles were unworthy of his crown.

The court was still murmuring while the High Septon pressed on. "Stannis Baratheon has been reported to have abandoned the Seven. He is plundering septs. He has burned septons alive like the Mad King in the name of the red demon he worships. He consorts with witches and sorcerers. This is the man you want to be our king, lord Stark? Another Maegor the Cruel?"

Something seemed to be shifting ever so slightly as the fat priest spoke. He did not sound quite as boring anymore. For the first time since knowing him, Cersei actually listened when he spoke. There was a fervor to him she did not believe the man to be capable of. "You come before this court and tell good men and women to kneel before a monster?"

"That is not the case father," Stark cried back. "Lord Varys investigated these rumours..."

He trailed off as the Master of Whisperers slowly walked towards the throne, turning to face the northerner. "My investigations have confirmed that and Stannis has indeed closed Septs and begun to pray to an Essosi god. You know this, Lord Stark. I have also found something more worrysome that lends credence to the rumours. Jars of wildfire were placed in tunnels beneath the Great Sept of Baelor. I could not yet learn who has done so, but the Hand of the King certainly could have."

This was good. Varys siding with her was a good thing. Why was her chest then feeling so tight? The court was shouting now. The High Septon was white as snow and gasping for air. It was going well, but it was not going to plan. Not at all. Cersei choked down some air, trying to find a way to get things under control again, but there was no chance of that. Steel glinted in Littlefingers hand and then at Starks throat. The Gold Cloaks moved. Stark armsmen tried to draw steel, but the spears were faster. Courtiers fled through every doorway.

And then Jaime was at her side. A brief smile before he stood before Cersei, steel drawn and ready to cut down anyone who dared to come for her. He did not need to. Still, she leaned forward and against his back, breathing deep to calm her nerves. It was over as fast as it had begun. Not a single Stark armsmen had survived the surprise attack and Eddard Stark himself now kneeled between to Gold Cloaks holding his arms tight.

"My king," the High Septon spoke into the stunned silence that had claimed the throne room. "I would humbly request to have Eddard Stark imprisoned in the Great Sept of Baelor until there was time to unravel his plots."

"Yes. Do so," came the clipped reply from the throne. Her son was being brave, but Cersei could hear his fear. "The court is adjourned," Joffrey added needlessly.


You can focus on two things in the coming days:

[] Speak with Varys about the wildfire. You need to know how he found it and why he did not reveal this earlier.
-[] (optional) Write-In additional topics

[] Speak with the High Septon. Hash out what to do with Eddard Stark.
-[] (optional) Write-In additional topics

[] Speak with Jaime to calm your nerves and to plan your next moves.
-[] (optional) Write-In additional topics

[] Speak with Baelish. Try to find out why he betrayed Stark.
-[] (optional) Write-In additional topics

[] Speak with the Pyromancers Guild. They must know how the wildfire got there and if there are other such traps.
-[] (optional) Write-In additional topics

[] Reorganize the Small Council and the Kingsguard. You need more loyal men in both.
-[] (optional) Write-In detailed orders

[] Prepare Joffreys coronation and the accompanying celebration. The smallfolk should see their new king in the flesh.