The Lonely Lioness - Cersei Lannister Quest

The last year had been more chaos than Pycelle had experienced in a long time. And it seemed to get steadily worse. The Greyjoy Rebellion and the War oft he Ninepenny Kings was a quiet affair in the capital. It certainly was a mess in the regions where the fighting happened, or for the people who had to do the bleeding and dying, but he had been sitting in Kings Landing and quietly helped the Hand to keep the realm together through these wars. All as usual. If anything it was remarkable how little had changed, except for the kings and Hands he was serving at the time.

Now, Roberts Rebellion? That was a more dangerous time. Aerys slowly becoming The Mad King after Duskendale, seeing treason behind every corner and a slight in any word of disagreement to his ideas. Rossart and his fire obsessed lunatics gaining ever more prominence as the throne room took on a stench that lingered long after Aerys was finally gone. It was a dangerous time to play peacemaker between the groups, as he had tried, and even more to be loyal to someone other than the king, as he had been.

And now so much of it seemed to have been for naught. All the careful plotting. All the decades of maneuvering. All up in flames. A new war among the Lords Paramount about who was supposed to sit on the Iron Throne and half of Essos seemed to have formed their own opinions and dug up their own puppets to seat in Kings Landing. And all he could do was watch it unravel before his eyes. Well. And put his own thumb on the scale, as usual. Though not in the way he had anticipated. He had aided Cersei for so long, quietly and without ever a direct order being spoken, that he had almost forgotten what it was like to have an agenda separate from hers.

Though with how things had turned out, there was no alternative. She had been unraveling for months. First the sleep issues when the comet arrived, then the listlessness and numbness in the months after. Should he have denied her the book? It seemed not like a risk to give it to her at the time. Maester Colbyn had taken great care to collate an exhaustive list of the dangers and risks associated with consuming Shade of the Evening. Though he, like a good scholar, had also included all that Cersei had needed to ruin herself.

When it had started, one of her chamber maids had alerted Pycelle of how she seemed to have passed out with open eyes in front of the fireplace, and he knew what had happened before even laying eyes on her. He had quickly come up with a lie about the queen having fallen ill and reacting badly to the medication to have a reason to bar anyone from visiting her. It turned out to be the right call as the queen did not wake from he fugue state.

Now he was yet again in her room, looking for any changes in her state while writing a few letters. He knew Cersei as a proud woman that took pains to always show only her best face to the world. Careful application of a few powders and perfumes. Immaculate dress of highest quality. These days he had gotten used to seeing her green eyes swollen red from crying on and off for days and days, her face streaked with marks of tears and the blue of a few errand drops of Shade. Her hair and silken black dress were crusted with sweat and filth by now. It was like the Mad Kings deterioration all over again.

Pycelle did not know what to think of the color choice. The death of king Robert had made Cersei the Queen Dowager, but only the death of her brother made her a widow. And she did not even try to hide it. But she did not show much care at all since she had gotten that book. If he tried to free the bottle of Shade from her hands, she would get belligerent, so he had stopped trying. She would drink some water if aided and coaxed to do so, but that seemed to be the greatest extend of action she was still capable of. It was such a shame. And the best he could do was to hide that shame until Tywin Lannister could arrive to solve this mess.

Cersei turned her head to him. Deep green and swollen eyes bored into him with an unblinking stare. It was unnerving when she did that. As if she was looking through him. Sometimes she reacted that way when he made an unexpected noise while in the room. Sometimes it felt as if she had been reading his thoughts and taken exception to them. A silly idea, but seeing the woman waste away on a poison that was supposed to be turning you into a seer was apparently enough to have even Pycelles mind reach for the silly theories.

He turned away from her and back to the parchment before him. Or at least tried to. It was hard to concentrate when she was staring like that. Made his neck itch for some reason. He looked over once more, just in time to see her lips move. "Pycelle," she whispered with a dry throat, sore from disuse. "The letter."

The Grand Maester nearly had a heart attack when she spoke. The stare alone was unnerving enough without the corpse rattle of a voice the Shade had given her. "The letter, yes," he hastily replied in fake befuddlement while quickly grasping for a plan. Could he confine the queen for medical reasons? Tywin would hate to have her walk around the Red Keep like this. "It is on the book to your left."

The woman did not even look at the book. "No, not that one. The one you stole."

"Excuse me, your majesty?" A cold feeling spread into the pit of Pycelles stomach that had nothing to do with the fact that Cersei seemed to have forgotten how to blink. This was not good. He needed to get to his office. "Ah, you seem to be still feeling unwell, your majesty. You should have some more rest." It was not even a lie. She had not been properly awake or asleep for a fortnight. That could not have been healthy. "I will fetch something for you to help you sleep."

"No, I'm fine," Cersei said with a low, wheezing growl of a victim of the red plague. "Explain where the letter is."

"I'm afraid I do not know what you are talking about. If you permit, I'll have to go and..." He got up while he spoke and went towards the door. He really needed to get to his stash in the ravenry.

Before he could reach for the door handle, the crystal bottle of Shade that Cersei had held on for dear life was thrown against the wall right next to it. The old maester stumbled back in shock and somehow the woman managed to impose herself between him and the exit, even though she had to hold onto a chair to stay upright. For the first time since this started, her eyes were truly focused on him and now he wished that they weren't.

"Clegane wrote about Tully using 'his authority as hand'. He mentioned Jaime," she snarled the name while jabbing two fingers at Pycelle, making him take a step backwards. "As if I should know he was with them. What am I missing here Pycelle?"

He just raised his hands and took another step back. The catatonic wreck from the divan was rapidly turning back into the lioness he knew before his very eyes. "Nothing, my queen. You are just... hysterical. It happens."

The fury in her eyes told him that this was the wrong thing to say. "I have spent months trying to learn what is going on in the Riverlands. I got reports from Varys spies and one measly letter from Hoster Tully. Nobody else reported to the Queen Regent that sent them out. Not Clegane. Not my son. Not my Hand. Not my father. Until I receive a letter that clearly expects me to have read a previous one. And you have the gall to call me hysterical for noticing?"

There was suddenly a wall behind Pycelle. "I believe the drugs are clouding your mind, your majesty, you make it sound as if I conspired against you."

Cerseis hand was on his chest and only then did he notice that she was still holding onto the rather pointed stopped of the bottle. "Well, I believe that the Shade made me see some things quite clearly. Such as the serpents around me that caused this catastrophe." She leaned in, the stopper ever so slightly digging into the mans chest. "You will tell me what you have done, Pycelle. In full. Or I swear to the gods that you will wish it had been Aerys that noticed your treachery."

The maester looked into her pale green eyes again and knew it was not an idle threat.

---

With a guilty conscience, Cersei had to admit that she now felt better than she had for months. A little voice that sounded like her beloved brother kept telling her that it was fine for her to no longer feel miserable, but it still gnawed at her. It was a feeling for later though. To either sort out or to push back a while longer with a bit of wine. Perhaps some wine would also help with the headaches. The Shade truly sharpened the mind and senses, even as it was slowly wearing off, but it was not a pleasant feeling to return to normalcy.

Though it was not the substance that had made the greatest, but the thing it had helped her uncover. And the little talk with Pycelle that followed. It had felt good to threaten him. To let lose and her her feelings go for once instead of tightly winding them into her chest. To see him fear her wrath. Not the abstract fear of royal disfavour or of having ones reputation tarnished by vile rumors. The fear for ones life, primal and raw. It was not as if he had not earned it, even though she was only now learning of the depth of his betrayal.

After Pycelle had been reminded of where his loyalties were supposed to lie and some time for Cersei to wash up, he had reported his activities. And indeed, it was in full. He was shivering too much for it to be played. She had to admit that the old man had fooled her with his bumbling idiot routine, though it was the consistency of his act that sold it, not his skill as a mummer. And she could feel his fear of being caught in another lie.

That the maester had been aiding her father was an open secret. He was the one known to have counselled Aerys II into opening the gates of Kings Landing to the Lannister army after all. But even Cersei had not suspected that he had still been writing regularly to Casterly Rock and occasionally did favors for her father. Like ensuring that some letters would not arrive in the capital after Gregor Clegane had been attained by royal decree for kin-slaying.

At least Pycelle was a dutiful little weasel and had preserved them all, just in case Tywin needed them for something later on. Hid them all in a little stash he had made in the ravenry. Now they were in her hands, at long last, and she had gotten a bottle of strong-wine from the kitchens to take the edge off from the fading Shade and the pain that would come from piercing together where it all had gone wrong. She did not try to dwell on that for now though. She would shed more tears when she knew her son to be safe again.

The first letters were not even that unexpected. The Hound noting that the kings party had safely arrived at the anchorage of Harrenhal and met there with Tully forces. A fortnight later, Edmure Tully arrived there too with reinforcements and after some talk over the matter and a reassurance by Joffrey that there would be no pardons for Gregor Clegane, the heir of Riverrun had taken the position of Hand. That was, until then as expected, but this was also when things began to take on a life of their own.

The Hounds next letter referred to the Lannister host capturing his brother and marching for Harrenhal, which prompted Joffrey to decide to take the Tully forces east towards Maidenpool to prevent the host of Caern Targaryen from attacking the city. For some reason, her father had decided that this was unacceptable and sent a larger number of Lannister riders after them, which linked up with them on the road and insisted, quite heavily at that, for Joffrey to come with them to Harrenhal for a war council. Instead, the king commandeered the force and pressed on for Maidenpool.

While all this had happened, Jaime had made his way towards the Vale. Brynden Tully, who still held command of the Bloody Gate, had turned him away but agreed to pass a message to Kings Landing for her brother. He had been trying to get to the Eyri to rescue the imp out of some misplaced feeling of familial duty towards the creature. He arrived soon after in Maidenpool, having taken a boat from Wickenden to avoid the Stark host camping in Saltpans. The next letter after that was the one informing Cersei of her brothers death.

Thereafter, it became truly bad. Edmure Tully had arrived in Duskendale, having fled the attempt of her fathers forces to detain him in Maidenpool. Now he was claiming that Tywin Lannister was in rebellion and trying to seize the king to rule through him as a puppet. Lord Rykker had unfortunately not shared his opinion, but neither had he detained the Tully heir outright.

Back in the Riverlands, Saltpans had been sacked during infighting in the hosts of the Riverlanders and Northmen there. After the attempt on Joffreys life, a number of houses declared that the Starks and Tullys were trying to betray the realm and tried to detain Robb Stark and his mother Catelyn Tully. That apparently failed and after a night of bloodshed and fire, the town was no more and the diminished hosts left the ruins in different directions. The host proclaiming themselves loyalists in their letter to Kings Landing marched west under the leadership of the Boltons, Dustins, Ryswells, Brackens and Freys. The Stark host apparently marched north, though with unknown target and purpose.


In the south, things were no less of a mess. Storms End had been burned, though accounts diverged if it was by Stannis hand or through a lightning strike. There were even some insane stories about him wielding a flaming sword, apparently having copied Thoros of Myrs trick with the wildfyre. The elder Baratheon brother had last been seen making way with his small army towards the Kingswood. The younger, Renly, was making way back to the remnants of Storms End after the tourney in Summerhall ended in chaos. Details were sparse, but there was a split in the ranks of the Reach, feuds were being declared and Mace Tyrell had clearly lost some of his army to Renly, only guest right staying their hand from having a battle then and there.

There was also a letter from Oldtown in which the septa that had organised the great festival there expressed her feelings towards the High Septon. The fat idiot had apparently truly made a fool of himself during his visit and now the Most Devout were quietly angling to have him replaced. At the same time, the Faith had apparently hired traders and mercenaries to send food shipments to Kings Landing to address the shortages caused by the ongoing blockade. It smelled of a bribe to put more weight behind their request.

Even further south, Doran Martell had died in Sunspear and his castellan was now calling all lords there to swear allegiance to the new ruler of Dorne. At the same time, a woman claiming to be Rhaenys Targaryen made a claim for the throne, citing Oberyn Martell and House Dayne as her backers. The letter to Lord Yronwood shed no light on any of it, just stating that Dorne would have to address its own troubles before it could concern itself with the politics of the wider realm.

From the east, Cerseis own letter had all been answered over the past months. Not much came of it, but at least some information had been gleamed from it. The Sealord of Braavos, one Ferrego Antaryon, had openly admitted to Braavos intention to invade Tyrosh to curtail Volantene influence in the Narrow Sea. A campaign that was apparently already well underway. Meanwhile, the letter to the magisters conclave of Myr yielded nothing but empty pleasantries as they cited the presence of the Braavosi fleet near their waters to their most pressing military concern. The Sealord also noted that the Iron Bank prided itself on its independence from the Sealords Palace since its founding and that he had no knowledge of the keyholders plans or influence on their actions.

The most infuriating response by far came from Dragonstone. While demanding a ludicrous sum for them, Aukar Brightfyre was willing to ransom Selyse and Shireen Baratheon. He also floated the idea of opening the blockade of Blackwater Bay in return for either bribes from the throne or an agreement that he could collect tolls from the merchants themselves. It was clear what motivated the man from his writings, especially when he proclaimed himself open to reasonable agreements, even if it meant betraying his current master Caern Targaryen.

The only letter that got no reply, even after multiple pointed question to Pycelle if he had misplaced this one better than the others, was the one to Pyke. Balon Greyjoy seemed not interested in the offer and the Grand Maester noted that some Ironborn ships had been spotted joining the pirate kingdoms in the Stepstones.

---

AN: Some of these letter contents were vague to the point of it being incomprehensible to me what the goal was. If you want to ally with someone against a common foe, you should at the very least name who that foe is.