Chapter 18

“Well, just what did you have in mind for this last Sand Snake, Cersei? Why am I pulling away from the fighting, when my men need me most, what we are even doing here? Why abandon our post? Did you know that three of the five men on the Small Council proposed that I remove you from the Iron Throne? Including the now dead High Septon! Well, no need for that now. You’ve removed yourself from it, dear sister! You’ve abandoned the Iron Throne and I doubt, that now I’ve thought on it, either of us will ever have another chance at it,” Ser Jaime Lannister ranted now at his sister, Cersei.

He momentarily forgot that she was still nominal Queen of Westeros.

“You forget yourself, brother. I am your lover, twin sister, and the mother of your children, but I am also your Queen, especially now that there won’t be a marriage, it seems. Look, I ... I couldn’t bear to sit there, on that throne, with the blades out, naked and bleeding, filthy because I could not bathe, trapped, needing to piss, craving more wine, and thinking of our child, dead in my womb! Yes, I miscarried! I lost the child in my belly! Our last one! I also could not bear to think of that wicked smile, that grin on Ser Bronn’s face as he waited for us in the Great Hall, ‘warming’ the Iron Throne for Jon Snow or Daenerys Targaryen! Nor the Mountain seizing Ashlyh, or Ellaria or Tyene Sand threatening me to my face,” Cersei screamed as she finished pissing into a goblet.

“You’re not planning to actually drink your own piss, are you?”

Ser Jaime grimaced at the prospect of his sister doing something so sick, especially in the presence of their guards as she prepared to bathe.

“I just told you that I lost our child and you’re worried about me drinking piss? Do you not hear yourself, brother? Where is the masterful Kingslayer, the one who slammed his golden hand down onto the table? The one who acted much more like Father? What has happened, so that your old self has returned instead?” Cersei snapped at Jaime, who shrugged.

“I’m half Father and half Mother, just as you are. Different parts of each. We’ve fought this war, and the war before it, and a bit of war before that. One thing that I can tell you, sister, that this war is different. I’m very concerned about your state of mind. Drinking piss is not healthy, whether you carry our child or not. It does raise another question, though. If we have no heir, then why are we still fighting?

“What are we seeking to preserve? House Lannister? House Lannister is us now,. The last time that I checked, we’re under siege inside one tower, maybe two at most, of the Red Keep, with enemies all around us. The Iron Throne is most likely barred us, possibly for good, and even Maegor’s Holdfast in enemy hands. There’s a dragon out there, in the open, by all Seven Hells! Even if we can beat back the Gold Cloaks, the Stark bannermen, the Dothraki, the Unsullied, and the Ironborn, what chance do we have against a dragon?” Jaime paced.

He was still confused as to what his sister must have in mind when she pissed into a wine goblet.

“Here, brother ... take her for me. Use her, one last victim for our pleasure. Take her in front of me, while I bathe one last time. Use her as you would any woman that you wished to ravish. Show no mercy toward her,” Cersei demanded of Jaime.

The Hand of the Queen and Master of War found himself dropping his pants in spite of his better judgment to shove his cock inside Tyene Sand. Jaime didn’t have any trouble with abusing a Sand Snake, not after what they did to Myrcella. This was a fine revenge for that, but wasn’t there a better use of his time?

Shouldn’t he be working with the Small Council to prepare some sort of parley or something to save their lives or something like that, something to spare King’s Landing at least? Why was he fucking Tyene Sand, in full view of his own twin sister, raping this Sand Snake, when he could lead more men into battle now? Why do this here and now? Yet, in spite of said doubts, Ser Jaime continued to force himself inside Tyene and enjoy her twat. Incidentally, he had to admit to himself that it was deliciously hot and wet.

“You’re wet! Why are you wet?” Cersei complained now, displeased that Tyene would enjoy her own rape.

“I’m wet ... because I have a secret, one that you cannot hope to undo,” Tyene taunted both Jaime and Cersei.

Now she thrust her hips backward, making it clear that this wasn’t rapine after all.

“But she dragged you in here!” Jaime griped.

Nevertheless, he kept thrusting in and out of Tyene Sand despite the argument.

“Would you stop fucking her! Stop it! Now! She enjoys it! This was supposed to make her suffer and she loves it! This isn’t rape at all! It was supposed to be rape!” Cersei insisted.

Defiantly, Tyene clung to Ser Jaime for every bit of her strength.

“She hasn’t let me do it! She’s tightening her snatch like a vise!” the Kingslayer retorted.

Just then, Tyene screamed her ecstasy right in their presence. Jaime tried even harder to pull out. Tyene fought, clawed, and struggled to keep him inside her cunt as long as she wished. She flipped him over onto his back before he could stop her, having failed to bind her hands yet. She pinned Ser Jaime onto the floor and rode him harder than she rode anyone before. She was rougher even than Cersei ever got with her brother, making him enjoy it in spite of himself. Here was a sick, twisted assassin of a bastard Dornish line and she fucked him more aggressively than Ashlyh, either. Granted, Jaime had only fucked three women in his life now, counting Tyene, but she was by far the best woman when it came to powerful lust.

Jaime, by now, was deaf to even Cersei’s demands that he cease, so she rose and pinched her nose to force the goblet full of piss down Tyene’s throat. Tyene Sand shocked her as well, by eagerly drinking down every drop of the piss and kissing Cersei directly on the lips to make her taste her own. Cersei fought the urge to vomit, the stench unbearable. Tyene laughed, enjoying her own little victory over the Lannisters. Disgusted, Cersei returned to her bath and finished washing herself, especially her own lips and tongue.

Cersei watched on, in horrid fascination, as Jaime spilled his seed inside Tyene’s luscious twat. It was presumably quite unclean, yet her brother had clearly enjoyed every moment of taking it. Furious, Cersei pulled Tyene into the bath with her, trying to drown her rather than clean her. Ser Jaime put a stop to it, pulling both of them back from the point of murder. Jaime stripped and climbed into the bath with both ladies, washing his naked form one last time, sure that he was a dead man by now. House Lannister was finished and he knew it. At least, he got one more good lay in his life. Oddly enough, it wasn’t with his sister. This was the secret reason why he had defied Cersei. He hadn’t wanted to deny himself one last pleasure before he died, not when it no longer mattered to anyone.

“Why did you do that?” Cersei pointedly asked Jaime.

Weirdly, Tyene kept caressing her breasts and playing with the clit of the woman who killed her mother.

“Dracarys!” Jaime roared with laughter, in plain sight of his guards and the rest of the Small Council.

“What?” Cersei demanded of him, now sure that it was her brother who’d gone mad.

“Burn them all, he said! Burn them all! Isn’t that what you keep wanting to do, sister? You want to burn them, just as the Mad King once did? Well, I will not have it, sister! I will not! If we must be conquered, let us be remembered at least for something good! If this is the end for House Lannister, let us not perish with blood on our hands, innocent blood of men, women, and children! So what if I fucked a Sand Snake? She might have hurt our daughter, yes, but did she? Was that her mother, Ellaria Sand, already dead now as you wished? Now, she suffered what she deserved!

“I wanted to fuck Catelyn Stark once, you know, while she had me as her prisoner. I didn’t partly because she declined, partly because I still held onto the remains of my code and my honor. This idiocy of mine included the silly, stupid notion of fidelity to someone who didn’t return the favor. Then I wanted to fuck Brienne of Tarth, homely, plain Brienne of Tarth! I’ve wanted to fuck Bernadette for years now, but I haven’t, because of my honor. That sounds as foolish as the Starks’ own code. I wanted to bugger Lancel, for that matter. Yes, even our cousin, that little twink that I just knew had to be slipping into your bed someday. I knew that he would once you got lonely or tired of me, so much for the bonding of twins when no longer convenient to you! But Gods forbid that I sleep with a woman like Brienne, at least, as she would be a threat to you!

“Well, sister, you know what, I’m glad that Joffrey is dead! He might be our son, but he was a monster, and as Olenna Tyrell called him, a ‘cunt.’ He insulted me at every turn, swaggered around the castle as if he were some kind of conqueror. He was a coward who ran from a girl like Arya Stark! I love you, sister, but I could never bring myself to love Joffrey. Not from the first signs that we pretended not to see that showed us that he was a monster!”

Ser Jaime rose from the bath and prepared to dress himself, in case he had to do battle one last time.

“What of Tommen and Myrcella?” Cersei asked Jaime.

“Now, those two I will always love and miss. Two beautiful children, and I’ve killed to avenge Myrcella, have I not? Did I not stand with you and fight for you at the Goldroad, risking my life to try to spear the Dragon Queen with my lance? Where were you at the Goldroad, sister? Where?” Jaime asked her, even as Arren tried to bar his way now.

“Don’t bar my way, you silly fop! You’re not even half the man Pycelle was!” Jaime shouted angrily.

A bit more of Tywin came out of Jaime after all, just in a fit of rage directed against his sister and counselors.

“Milord ... milord... , “ Arren stuttered, only to be silenced for good by Jaime’s dagger inside his throat.

“Don’t worry, we won’t need a Grand Maester for long. That will be the Dragon Queen’s problem,” Jaime demonstrated once more that he had snapped, completely losing his temper now.

“TYRION! TYRION LANNISTER, COME OUT HERE AND FACE ME, YOU LITTLE WORM!”

Jaime shouted at the top of his lungs. Rage boiled inside him as he prepared to confront his little brother at last. Whether it was to slay him or join him, he wasn’t quite sure yet.

As for Cersei, she took Tyene by the hair, pulled her from the bath, pushed her to the floor, dragged her across the tiles to her great pain and discomfort, and pinned her arms before grinding into her body. Cersei found herself rubbing her snatch roughly against Tyene’s cunt and flipping her over onto her belly next. Cersei slapped Tyene’s buttocks repeatedly before turning her over again. Parting Tyene’s thighs, Cersei started biting and kissing, even licking Tyene’s now washed twat. She sought to get as much of Jaime’s seed out of the Sand Snake as she could.

“I am still your Queen, you little viper, and while my brother can’t rape you to save himself or anyone else, I shall ravage you as you deserve!” Cersei boasted.

She ignored the battle by now, as it had collapsed around her. Unknown to Cersei, with most of her remaining counselors trapped inside the Maidenvault, she missed the shouts of victory, as the White Sword Tower fell next, to the Dothraki. Ser Jorah Mormont personally knocked aside the Lannister banners and put those of House Targaryen in their place. Now, only the Maidenvault and the Great Hall remained and that could not last for long.

“Burn them! Burn the bodies, men! Leave no corpses around!” Ser Jorah screamed himself hoarse.

For Mormont, as once again in his aging life his youthful bloodlust returned to him.

As for the Great Hall, Bernadette indeed led Ser Davos up through the secret tunnels and passages into said room. Then and there, they fell upon some shaken and exhausted Lannister guards and one Kingsguard, Ser Emilar Vance. Vance, already wounded, still rushed at Ser Davos upon seeing him at last enter the chamber. Cutting through the guards with glee, the Stark soldiers showed them no mercy whatsoever. These were the soldiers of the house that ordered and benefited from the Red Wedding most of all. The Northerners cut them down without a second’s thought as to quarter. The Lannister troops were butchered wholesale, not even given a chance to yield at all. They left much blood on the Great Hall floor to avenge not only the Red Wedding, but also the betrayal of Ned Stark in that very hall.

“Winter is coming, winter is here!” one of the Stark men shouted.

The Northern man closed in on Ser Emilar, but Davos held him back.

“He’s mine! These damn guards have served every Lannister responsible for Blackwater Bay, where I was shipwrecked and Matthos, my son, burned alive! He’s mine!” Davos warned even Gendry off.

Gendy, in fact, had already smashed in three heads with his warhammer. Davos was undoubtedly older, and so should have been weaker, but he was also full of rage, hatred, and vengeance. He watched with some shock as even Bernadette slew or wounded men, men whom she had once served along with House Lannister. Even so, he drove a spear into Ser Emilar, who was already weak from his earlier wound. Showing some mercy again, Davos drew his sword and severed the man’s jugular, slicing deep into his neck. Vance fell dead almost instantly, dropping his own sword at last.

“It’s over ... the Great Hall is taken, Ser Davos,” Gendry told Davos, who looked around him and realized that was true.

The Great Hall had just fallen to Houses Stark and Targaryen, under the command of Ser Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight. Once a smuggler brought into the service of Stannis Baratheon, Davos had become a soldier himself due to recent wars. What was more, he had won the greatest prize of all for his King and Queen.

“Hoist the banners of House Stark. House Targaryen, too, if you can find them. Open the doors from inside. Let all and sundry know that we’ve taken the Great Hall of the Red Keep. The Iron Throne is in our custody at last. The war is as good as won,” Davos instructed his men, particularly Gendry.

Meanwhile, for Ser Jaime, his voice was very hoarse indeed now, having shouted for Tyrion, his little brother, repeatedly outside Maegor’s Holdfast, defying Drogon to burn him to a crisp. At long last, Tyrion emerged, though armored and accompanied by Lord Varys, the Spider, and Ser Bronn of the Blackwater.

“Well, now, man, you once swore that if you ever saw the Imp again, you’d slice him open and then send him my regards. Looks like you can’t keep either debt now, can you, Ser Jaime? Nothing against you, of course. It’s just that you’ve lost the war. I mean, look around ya. House Lannister is beaten. The Great Hall has just fallen into our hands, courtesy of Ser Davos Seaworth, the White Sword Tower is now ours, all credit due to Ser Jorah Mormont. The war’s over, man. It’s more over than it was after Blackwater Bay, after the Red Wedding, any of that.