Chapitre 30: Interlude VI: Riverrun
200 stones = bonus chapter
3 patreon subscriptions = 10 bonus chapters
Fully support the story at:
patreon.com/FanFictionPremium
***
Cersei stood in front of the mirror naked, smiling and stroking her round belly. Lancel's child matured in her womb like a death sentence to her hubby. Once the child was presented to her vassals and officially recognised as heir, Edmar would be of no use to her. She had already decided how that would happen. When Edmar rides back to the Stone Mill (to his mistress, Cersei thought indignantly), Ser Cleos Frey, son of her aunt Jenna, will volunteer to accompany him. On the way, her husband's troop will be attacked. Her cousin will turn out to be the sole survivor and tell them that the brigands are to blame. The executors will keep their mouths shut: talkers in the Mountain's squad don't last long.
With Edmar dead, the Tully family will die out. Her husband has an uncle, a childless old bachelor, and two sisters, but they don't count. And of Robert's kin, only his brother's ugly daughter remains. When Dragonstone is taken, the girl will be given to the septs. Two families, the Baratheons and the Tullys, will be extinct thanks to one wily lioness who robbed them of their offspring. The thought made Cersei begin to stir. Her nipples tensed and her fingers stroked the golden hairs and the pink bump hiding among them. Her adorable slit is very choosy, she is not satisfied with the cocks of her shabby, imposed husbands. Only members of her sweet relatives, golden-haired and green-eyed like herself, are allowed in.
Jaime and Lancel, each of them nice in their own way. Her sweet brother, handsome and strong, having been with her since she was a little girl. And her charming cousin, as cunning and crafty as she is, so young but already skilled in bed. And her jerk of a husband freaking out over a song about a dead fish. The first time Cersei heard it, she laughed heartily, and Edmure blushed. His fish did well on their wedding night (Cersei mentally gave him a two out of five, compared to Lancel's four, Jaime's five, and Robert's zero), but since then, Cersei hasn't let him in. Dangerous for the child, she said. Edmar took offence and went to his mistresses, but Cersei's belly kept growing. Soon a lovely lion cub would be born from that rounded bulge.
Or a lioness. Either way, she, the Lady of Riverrun, would rule the Trident until her child came of age. And after she comes of age, too. She will raise her son to be gentle and obedient. And she will find her daughter a gentle and obedient husband. Tyrek, for example. Last month, when her cousin came to swear her in as Lord Darry, Cersei caught his eyes more than once. Why not? The boy is thirteen now, good-looking and, unlike Jaime or Lancel, not a strong character. As a vassal and as a younger relative, Tyrek will obey her completely. A perfect lover. And a suitable son-in-law. She might even bear his child. Tirek would recognise the bastard and Tommen would legitimise it. Surely the boy wouldn't deny his mother such a small thing. Soon Riverrun will have a brood of beautiful golden lions. The Riverlands will be overflowing with Lannisters, and no one will even think of the Tullys.
Bringing herself to orgasm, she clicked off the maids and ordered them to dress her mistress.
Cersei chose a burgundy and gold gown to wear to her vassals - it reeked of power and authority. The pregnancy made it a little tight, but with the help of two maids, she managed to fit into it. Scolding the neglectful maids for taking too long, Cersei had her hair brushed. Her beautiful locks flowed over her shoulders in a golden waterfall, and on top of it Cersei placed a golden hoop that looked like a crown. The hoop was adorned with carnelian lions and jasper trout. Oh, how she wished she could take out all the trout and leave only the lions. But for the sake of her vassals, she had to keep up the pretence that the Tullys still meant something.
Accompanied by four guardsmen, Cersei entered the main hall of Riverrun. Three of her maids of honour, aka hostages, crouched in curtsy. Leanna Vance, Eleanor Mouton, and Bethany Blackwood. Daughters of river lords, ensuring their fathers' loyalty. Cersei nodded to them nonchalantly and sat down on the throne.
The throne had been custom made for her last month. She had had to sell half the harvest, but the thing was worth it. Forged from noble silver (there wasn't enough money for gold), its sharp edges were like a lighter, sleeker version of the Iron Throne without the risk of injury. There were soft cushions on the seat. Making her buttocks comfortable, Cersei ordered her to begin.
There was a special ceremonial procedure at her court. Anyone wishing to gain her audience had to make an appointment with Lothar Frey, her master of ceremonies. Once in the hall, the visitor, whether noble or commoner, would kneel before her and humbly state his request. Not forgetting to call her by her full title, which was 'High Ruler of the Riverlands and the Trident, Cersei the First of House Lannister'. For those who had earned her special favour, she allowed herself to be called by a shorter title, simply High Ruler.
The first visitor was Lord Jonas Bracken, who asked the High Ruler to give him some of the lands of the Blackwoods, her neighbours and sworn enemies. Cersei wondered. The eternal feud between the Brackens and the Blackwoods had grown tiresome to her, but as ruler it was to her advantage. Divide and conquer. Both houses fought against her brother, but when Jaime laid siege to Riverrun, it was Titus Blackwood who led the defence. Were it not for Tyrion's cunning - it must be admitted that a dwarf can sometimes be useful, too - the castle might still not have been taken. The Blackwoods seem to worship the Old Gods. The Northmen who recently declared independence are their co-religionists, further increasing the chances of betrayal. So, the Blackwoods are worse enemies than the Brackens, which means the request should be granted.
- A wise decision, Supreme Ruler,' Lothar Frey smiled. - Wise and timely.
Cersei returned his smile. She favoured the Freys. Lothar never missed an opportunity to fawn over her, and his father always paid his taxes on time. That was how all her subjects should be.
Jonos Bracken was pleased with her decision, but Bethany Blackwood couldn't hold back a sorrowful shriek. Learn to hide your emotions better, dearie. Maid of honour is supposed to please the eye with smiles, not sadden the ear with sighs. To teach the girl a lesson, Cersei had her taken out into the courtyard and whipped in full view. Eleanor and Lyanna whispered about something. Cersei didn't like this, and as punishment, she decided to make both girls serve her at the table tonight.
The next visitor, Lord Clement Piper, complained about the lack of peasants. Taxes are too high, crops are being taken away, so the peasants are fleeing. Fleeing where? To the Vale and the Stormlands. Lord Lancel's doing some big construction, they say, and he's hiring labourers at good wages.
Cersei was angry. Her cousin thought too much of himself, thinking he could take her subjects away from her. Success had turned the boy's head. He'd been her favourite until a short time ago, dependent on her favour for everything. Lancel is clever in his own way, even like his father in some ways, but he lacks experience. Cersei will beat him easily.
- The solution to your problem, Lord Piper, lies on the surface. We must stop the peasants from leaving.
Lord Pyper was surprised.
- Forbid them how? Build a wall along the border of the Riverlands and have soldiers guard it?
- Exactly,' Cersei smiled.
- Where would I get the money? I can barely make ends meet because of your taxes!
- Address me by my title! - Cersei shouted. - Money is your problem, not mine. Out!
The third visitor was a commoner from the Stone Sept. Cersei didn't think she could remember his name, but his information interested her. It turns out there was a prostitute in the Stone Sept who claimed to be Robert's daughter. A perfect opportunity to get rid of another stag brat. Cersei told Ser Grigor to go to the Stone Sept and kill the whore, and if the townsfolk defended her, to burn the whole town to the ground. That's exactly what her father would have done.
The informant received thirty silver coins as a reward and left. Cersei decided she wouldn't see anyone else today. How heavy was the burden of power! The long sitting made her arse sore and the baby began to jostle restlessly. She was refreshing herself with a second cup of sweet Arborian when her husband once again angered her. The moron, whose presence in the throne room she tolerated only out of politeness, dared to declare that the taxes she imposed were too high and the peasants were starving. Cersei could barely keep from spewing wine in his face. Who cares about the peasants? I don't care if they die. The peasants exist only to satisfy the whims of the upper class to which she belongs. And the taxes are for the army. A big army. The river lords are ungrateful fools who dream of overthrowing their rightful ruler. Only force can keep them in line. Force and fear.
***
Cersei was served a clay-baked trout and venison roast for dinner. The lioness gulped down the succulent flesh of the Tully and savoured the Baratheons' morsel with relish. She felt like a predator tormenting her prey. Woe to the vanquished! Two great houses had fallen to the swords of the Lannisters, and all their property had gone to her family. The lions will eat the deer and the trout. Cersei licked her lips and stroked her bloated belly.
The meat dishes were followed by dessert. Cersei ate a cherry pie and washed it down with two bowls of Arborian. Eleanor poured the wine. Cersei couldn't taste it because of the sweetness of the pie and because of her anger at the inept: the fool shook so violently she spilled a few drops on the tablecloth. Cersei gave the wench a couple of slaps and started on the fruit. She had an appetite. She had put on weight in recent months, which of course was due to the pregnancy.
After a hearty meal, Cersei wanted to lie down. She made her way to the bedroom, undressed and took a short nap.
Cersei awoke to a sharp pain in her stomach. Pulling back the blanket, she was horrified to see blood on the sheets. The muscles in her lower abdomen contracted in a familiar and terrifying rhythm. Not this!
Too soon, it had only been six months, the baby wouldn't survive, instead of a golden lion cub she would have a miscarriage, gods, why, what a ridiculous joke, after all I'd given birth to three children healthy, so why the fourth....
Three. She had three children.
Sixteen for him, three for you. Gold will be their crowns and gold their shrouds. And when you drown in tears, the Valonqar will close his arms around your pale neck and choke the life out of you.
Cersei screamed.
— Un nouveau chapitre arrive bientôt — Écrire un avis
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone