Chapter 17

“Most of our troops are still scattered all over the Seven Kingdoms, even more so now that the Dothraki and the Unsullied are on the march across the Stormlands, wresting much of them from our control,” Ser Jaime Lannister laid out the current disaster that was the war map of Westeros while standing next to the Iron Throne.

“Many of their troops are unavailable to them as well, both in the North and in the Stormlands, to say nothing of the Riverlands. We can still defeat them, and their precious King, Jon Snow, right here in King’s Landing, deliver the death blow that would buy us time to reckon with the North and the Dragon Queen. It’s these wretched, disloyal, mutinous Gold Cloaks of the City Watch that are the trouble. Who would have guessed that they would turn their cloaks just for that turncoat Ser Bronn of the Blackwater?” Cersei insisted from the Iron Throne, doing her best to ignore the pain as the blades kept biting and cutting into her naked flesh.

“Some irony there, Your Grace. Ser Bronn helped you hold King’s Landing against Stannis Baratheon when he was last Lord Commander of the City Watch. Now, they’ve turned to him again, he’s Lord Commander again, and he’s working with your brother, who was the Hand of the King back then, to wrest it from you at last. Isn’t that the wheel of fate turning in an odd direction?” a voice spoke directly to all of them from out of the shadows of the Great Hall, stepping forward to reveal a woman in a red robe, a ruby amulet at her throat.

“Who would you be, then?” Cersei demanded of the woman.

“Melisandre of Asshai, the same Red Priestess who revived Jon Snow from the dead. Yes, I did that. I was also the same woman who served Stannis Baratheon against you, though I was barred from the battle. If I had not been, Stannis would be sitting on that same throne right now, and you would both likely be dead. I was also the same Red Priestess who burned Shireen Baratheon at the stake as a sacrifice to the Lord of Light, one which he understandably did not appreciate. That was a horrible crime and a dreadful mistake on my part. In any case, I came to offer you one last chance to escape your doom.

“Bend the knee to Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen, together. She will soon be back in King’s Landing, only this time, she will not bypass it. How long can you hope to hold out against three fire-breathing dragons? Or even one, for that matter. I urge you both to parley, now, while you still have the chance. It is not too late. There might yet be some mercy, even for Cersei Lannister, the Usurper Queen. Or, at the very least, let everyone leave your retinue who is not willing to die. Because, I swear to you, both of you, if you continue long enough down this path of resistance to Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen, you will both die.

“The people of King’s Landing do not wish to perish for your sake, nor do they deserve it. I fear very much for their safety, especially if your secret plans for wildfire with those caches below the various towers and houses and septs of the capital, are carried out. Yes, I know all about the wildfire, as does Ser Jaime, who has been trying to reason with you for some time now, Cersei. As for you, Ser Jaime, you did your duty to Westeros once. Perhaps you’ll do it again and save us all from disaster. It would probably get you killed by your enormous friend here, but so be it. It would be a heroic sacrifice for the smallfolk and nobles of King’s Landing alike, if not for all of Westeros.

“Whatever you do, I urge you not to continue this horrible folly of a battle and a war. I beseech you to make peace with the Starks and Targaryens by means of surrender. They are stronger, and will only grow stronger still. You’re weaker and your defeat is only delayed, not prevented, by this foolish resistance to the forces of Houses Stark and Targaryen. Worse still, this battle merely wastes lives better risked in combat against the Night King and the Army of the Dead, the real enemy of Westeros and of all men,” Melisandre presented her case against war to the Lannister Queen and the Kingslayer themselves.

“The Night King? What rubbish! There is no such thing. This is a trick, an attempt to get revenge on me for thwarting your evil plot to shove your foreign god down our throats through Stannis Baratheon! I tell you now, Red Woman, I am not frightened by children’s tales, old legends, myths, and fables. I am a Lannister, not a Stark or Targaryen or Tully or Baratheon! I believe in wealth, power, things that you can see! Not magic and other such follies,” Cersei mocked even talk of the Night King and the Army of the Dead.

Cersei tossed back a good amount of wine as she sat there on the Iron Throne, trying not to let it cut her again. She watched as Melisandre attempted to exit the Great Hall without another word, before Ser Gregor attempted to block her. Melisandre simply whispered something to the Mountain, and he abruptly sheathed his sword. Even stranger than this, he took off his helmet for a moment, turned to face Cersei Lannister, shook his gloved fist at her, put his helm back on, and physically carried Ashlyh out of their presence without speaking to them again. Just like that, the Mountain had deserted the Kingsguard and the Lannister cause, not unlike his brother Sandor, the Hound.

“What did she say to him, to make him defect and abduct Ashlyh from us? This is very troubling, worrisome indeed. The Mountain alone bought us time to recapture the Great Hall and the Iron Throne. I fear the worst,” Ser Jaime almost brushed his hair from his face with his golden hand.

His anger and fear both grew at once, making him dangerously closer to another Tywin Lannister outburst.

“Why didn’t any of you stop him? Or her, for that matter?” Cersei demanded for her part.

She was furious now herself, but also terrified and feeling quite ill as well as drunk and filthy.

Worse still, Cersei’s bodily needs were more intense than ever. She had also been fucked not long before. She had a full bladder, an upset stomach, and a strong craving for wine that seemed to grow worse by the day. She had more bizarre fantasies every night, and she had miscarried their child already and dared not tell Jaime about it. Continued cuts and bleeding from the blades of the Iron Throne threatened infection. Stress and fear grew over the recent defeats, while being barred from Maegor’s Holdfast meant that she could not bathe yet.

Well, she thought, unless I can slip away to the Maidenvault for just such a moment. I need to wash these cuts and I feel like the worst sort of filthy street whore, not a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yes, why not? Cersei, without thinking of the consequences, rose from the Iron Throne and thus unwittingly moved the ground beneath her own feet and that of House Lannister. Little did she know it, but she would never sit on the Iron Throne again.

“I am leaving for a bath. Anyone care to join me?” Cersei laughed as she dragged Tyene Sand by her hair, which started to grow while in the Black Cells, “you’ll make a good maidservant, since one of them betrayed me and another has been kidnapped by the Mountain.”

Ser Jaime started to join Cersei in the Maidenvault, but the High Septon now stood in front of him to bar his way.

“Milord, this has gone on long enough. This perversity of your sister sitting upon the Iron Throne, a woman no less, seeking to rule over men! Let us proclaim you King, milord, divorce your sister, and offer your hand in marriage to Daenerys Targaryen. Half of Jon Snow’s men would defect to you instantly, and then, well, we won’t need this nonsense of a marriage of incestuous kind, will we? He could die a traitor’s death, Cersei could be sent away somewhere quietly, to live out her days of madness until she no longer plagues anyone. Our men would take heart with you on the Iron Throne, would they not?” the High Septon tried to persuade him.

Much of the Small Council stood in apparent league with him.

“We concur with this. Your sister is not fit to rule the Seven Kingdoms, milord, but you are. You can end this mad, godless war and put the Faith back in command of Westeros. You alone can restore the luster of House Lannister, whereas your sister, the incestuous adulteress and murderer of thousands, who really trusts her? You know what she did to the Great Sept of Baelor. You know what that did to King Tommen, did you not see? He lost his Queen and he died in despair at his own hand! Claim the Iron Throne yourself, we’ll support you, invite Tyrion Lannister to be your Hand, and make Daenerys Targaryen your Queen. This, and only this, is the way to save Westeros,” Ser Jardan Haigh supported the High Septon.

“Do you agree with this, Grand Maester?” Jaime turned to Arren now.

“Yes, milord, this is the way to act now. Cersei is a Mad Queen, just as mad as the Mad King Aerys II that you slew once, O Kingslayer. We do not ask you to spill her blood, merely to spill her from the Iron Throne,” Arren showed his concord with the others.

“And you, Dander?” Jaime asked the new Master of Whispers.

“No, milord. This is folly. We must destroy their King and Queen. Assasination. That is the path forward, milord. Once they’re dead, we prevail and you will not have to discard your sweet sister, the Queen. There is no way that the Dragon Queen or the White Wolf will ever make peace with you now, short of our abject surrender,” Dander surprised the others by daring to dissent.

“He is right. This is nonsense, cousin, and you know it. This is a fantasy. The war has become personal, a war to the very dagger’s tip. They must die, and once they do, the land can be reborn from their blood, in peace,” Ser Wyllam backed Dander instead of his cousin.

“Thank you for your honesty, men, and your flattery, now this is what I have to say about it. I will be King, but not by betraying my sister. You, High Septon, will perform the wedding now, and I will try to forget your treasonous words, and those of your colleagues. Come with me, now, to the Maidenvault, where my sister awaits. The rest of you men can continue to guard the Great Hall for our return. For now, the Small Council will retire to the Maidenvault, where we shall hold the wedding once the Queen is restored to a better state of heart, body, and mind through her bath,” Ser Jaime Lannister, the Hand of the Queen, stormed off.

He didn’t wait to see who would follow him to his sister’s side.

Unknown to Ser Jaime, almost the first thing that the High Septon did upon hearing this was to simply walk away from the Great Hall, but in the opposite direction. He did this just in time to see Daenerys Targaryen landing Drogon on the nearest open ground she could find close to the Red Keep. As Dany climbed off Drogon, the High Septon approached her and knelt in her presence, not giving any warning that he would bend the knee to her. He also kissed her bare, bleeding, and dirty feet, in a gesture that completely ignored both the filth and her nakedness.

“I beg your pardon, Mother of Dragons. I ... have erred, have sinned, have wronged you, the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I beseech you to forgive me my treason and pardon me of my crimes. I no longer serve that lawless, sinful Queen, as she has now done the unthinkable. Surely, Your Grace, you can show the Mother’s mercy to me and allow me to live and remain at my post under your rule,” the same High Septon spoke.

He had shown such disdain for reigning queens, but now he feigned true fealty to one who happened to share power with her husband.

“And you would be?” Dany demanded to know.

Her skin crawled from his revolting touch.

“The ... High Septon of the Faith of the Seven, Your Grace. I am not permitted to ... to say my name, none are, but I am the High Septon, I assure you. What would you have me do, my Queen?” the High Septon assured her.

“I trust, then, that you will throw the full backing of the Faith of the Seven and all of its septons, including the Most Devout, behind myself and my husband, my nephew, Jon Snow, recognizing our marriage and our rule as true and lawful? You have, after all, bent the knee to me, and that is rather hard to undo. Your former Queen is not likely to forgive this, in the unlikely event that she should prevail now. By kneeling to me, you’ve acknowledge me as your Queen, which means that you acknowledge my laws as true, including the one that proclaims Jon Snow and myself co-regents, rulers together through marriage and alliance, over all of the Seven Kingdoms.

“By kneeling to me, High Septon, you have deserted your former Queen and have committed yourself already to my service and cause. I see that you hesitate. Why? Surely, you know that you cannot take back your fealty once it is sworn to a King or Queen. The deed is done. It cannot now be undone. What is the issue, then?” Dany questioned the now wavering, hesitate High Septon.

“Well, your Grace, incest is not permitted in marriage, which is a sacred trust and ordinance of the Faith. It is consecrated to the Seven, after all. The very reason that I turned against Cersei Lannister is that she proposes to wed her own brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, and let him rule at her side. Now, aunt with nephew is not as extreme, I’ll grant you, but this cannot be. Not in the laws of the Gods, of the Seven. Not in the texts of the Seven-Pointed Star. You propose to have us acknowledge your marriage. Surely, you can annul this marriage and find a better way to mollify the King in the North, can you not? Or simply get rid of him?” the High Septon pleaded with Dany.

He was unaware of just how close he came now to incurring her full wrath, of “waking the dragon,” as Viserys once warned.

“So, her destroying the Great Sept of Baelor with wildfire is not too much for you, but the day that she wishes to wed her brother, that is a sin too much? What manner of clergyman are you, sir? Certainly not one that I wish to retain in office. Nor will I betray my rightful lord, Jon Snow, whose birthright is even better than mine. Nor will I break the vows of marriage in which I swore to be his, in the light of the Seven, I might add, in their name, vows which made us rulers together of the Seven Kingdoms, Protectors of the Realm.

“That’s treason! I do not know what your texts tell you about such disloyalty, but I have lost all respect for you. I wish you now to discontinue your office,” Dany shouted angrily at him.

They now drew attention from Westerosi from on both sides, making them cease their mayhem and combat so as to listen to her.

“You ... intend to dismiss me, then?” the High Septon groveled to Dany, “please do not! I will obey. I will serve you both. I was wrong!”

“No, instead of dismissing you, I, Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, the Breaker of Chains, sentence you to die,” Dany declared.

She gave the man just seconds to contemplate his horrific doom that was now sealed.

“Dracarys!” Dany told Drogon.

The great dragon belched out fire that instantly burned the High Septon alive, his screams drawing more attention from both sides of the battle. By now, Jon Snow himself stepped out to greet his wife at last, rushing into her arms even as the screams of the High Septon died down. That he didn’t worry about the burned cleric yet told his followers one thing: there were limits even to the mercy of Jon Snow, and one line not to cross was his love for his new bride. He kissed Dany very eagerly, much more than expected by either of them, each missing the other badly by now. The fact that she returned the kiss with equal ardor convinced Jon that she wasn’t going to be ruled by petty jealousy.

“So ... you know, then? About me. I didn’t even know about me!” Jon informed Dany.

He now led her back to Maegor’s Holdfast to shouts of applause from their men.

“Yes, nephew, I know about you. This feels odd, but liberating in a way. There is no way, as proved by that High Septon who I just burned, that this will be lightly accepted by all and sundry people in Westeros. You might get some ... hard feelings. Still, people need to learn to put this behind them, and they will. Once they realize the danger that they, we, are all in, they’ll come to accept it. Most Westerosi, I wager, won’t care less that the old Targaryen ways are back. This is especially true with me unable to bear children. They will worry far more about defeating the enemy that cannot be bought off or simply killed off.

“They will have to make a choice: the brother and sister who wish to rule as man and wife or the aunt and nephew who do. Besides, I am not the true heir, it seems. That would be you, my lord husband. With you in command, someone who has the respect and trust of many who do not yet know me, doubts about me can be laid to rest. With me at your side, any who fear that House Stark will become too ascendant and the old gods reimposed on them will have less to worry on that score. Fears of reprisals from either of us can be tempered by our shared rule,” Dany assured her partner.

“True heir or not, I married you, thinking that you were and that I was simply King in the North. This was and remains an alliance, both against the Lannisters and against the Dead. You have brought men, horses, weapons, money, and the Targaryen name to this league, while I have brought the Stark banners to the same. You are my wife, not simply my aunt. We took vows in the eyes of the same gods worshiped by my father, Prince Rhaeger Targaryen. They are not my gods, but I am honor bound by these vows and wish to renew them in the godswood, my dear Queen.

“That is not all, of course. I love you. I have only loved one other woman before you, and she was a Wildling named Ygritte. This is the same kind of rush. I knew it for sure when I saw you again and had to embrace you! Yes, it is incest, and yes, I will not lie, it troubles me. Nevertheless, I would be remiss if I didn’t add that there is some ... excitement to finally doing something forbidden by everything that I was taught.

“My entire life, I have struggled very hard to be very good. To behave, to deny myself and my wishes, to accept harsh treatment from Catelyn Stark, to refuse to sire bastards, all to atone for a bastardy that would not have been my fault, but wasn’t even true in the first place. I did everything loyally and right, except when I lay with Ygritte, albeit in service to the greater good.

“This moment, it feels like that again, free to shake off the shackles of my Stark code for once and be me, Jon Snow, as I would be without the guilt and shame making me doubt and deprive myself. I always did the right thing, except with Ygritte, and it cost my lover, and me, our lives. I was murdered in malice, in a mutiny by my own men, the only peace short of her arms found in the cold bosom of Death. Even that peace was shattered in the name of duty, my soul forced back into my corpse to live again, never to quite trust another man the same way again.