Queen's Fall
Twenty Third Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC
The king was briefly startled by Brynden's voice in his mind. Then he could feel his thoughts turn inwards in a whirlwind of reasoning, weighing one risk against another. He did not want to stumble now at the end, and for a moment Bloodraven could feel the pretender king's life hang in the balance. It would after all be easiest to change nothing at all.
"Send him the the Great Sept of Baelor. He will have sanctuary there and being able to blame the Faith for this could be... convenient."
Were this another time, another place, were Brynden a younger and more prideful man, he might have said words then to the men and woman he was about to execute, but he was a spy and he was a sorcerer, and he knew that in this new world more than the old, every moment counted and he would be damned if he gave Cersei Lannister one more breath with which to meddle in his plans.
An ivory rod slipped from the silken sleeve of the eunuch's robe, a tool of swiftest sorcery. The vessel's veins burned with power beyond what they had been meant to hold: "
Be gone." So did the last of the Great Bastards command a false king, and this time he had more than the subtle powers of a faded age to command.
Alas, he was not the only one bearing artifacts of power in the chamber, and thus he would not get his wish. A pale light burst from the queen's left hand, a spell-duelist's enchantment, raised in reflexive ward. "Not my son!"
He was ready for it by the
work of another, far worthier queen-to-be. Before the first syllable was even past her lips, Bloodraven had cast an unraveling enchantment upon the ring before it could break his own spell, before the company of lordlings could do more than stare and rattle in their armor. The Kingslayer at last had raised his shield, for all the good it would do him...
Joffrey Waters was gone and for whatever his life was worth he was safe.
"Lolth xxizz uns'aa wun ussta klew'kin d'nadye." The words skittered like rats upon stone as one of the Queen's many talismans warped and twisted like wax under a candle's flame to reveal a blood red talisman marked with a web in night-black malachite.
Although the Old Gods did not know this interloper, he could feel the weight of her malice and recalled talk of a spider-thing from the incursion in Gogossos. Mighty it might be in the depths of the world, but this was not Her place. He triggered the belt that girdled the Vessel's considerable waist and
obliterated the talisman with a wave if his hand.
Most servants of the gods were so very attached to their trinkets. They should truly learn to let go of material things. Even as the vessel's organs began to fail from the torturous magics called through, it Bloodraven triggered the enchantment locked within since its creation. A moment later, all was green flame and blades of adamant in the halls of the Small Council as the Red Keep shook to its foundations from the force of the detonation.
If there was one thing Brynden regretted as he slipped into the body of a raven perched just right to see his handiwork, it was not having the chance to see Sunglass' face at the realization he served an apostate.
Small Council Destroyed
What next?
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OOC: You guys were wondering who would be crazy enough to give Cersei real magic, enough to bind a Winter Fey... well it just happens Lolth has a type and Cersei is basically it. Remember the poison that was used on Velaryon, the one traced as drow, though possibly very old? Not yet edited.