[123] The Lion’s Cage

Chapter 123: The Lion's Cage

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I leaned back on the pale stone throne of House Lannister, savoring the sight before me. Cersei Lannister, once Queen Regent, once the proud daughter of the great Tywin Lannister, stood before me in chains, dirty and defeated.

Her golden hair hung in matted clumps around her face, and the tattered shift she wore did little to preserve her dignity. Oh, how different she looked from the proud, beautiful queen who had once ruled these halls. It was a sight to relish.

"Lady Cersei," I drawled, my voice echoing in the vast chamber. "It has been a while since we saw each other. I almost forgot what state I left you in. I must say, you look different without your crown. Less regal. More appropriate."

Her eyes flashed with hatred, but her lips remained pressed into a thin line. Her silence amused me. The mighty lioness, reduced to a mute, trembling creature.

"I wonder where your father is hiding?" I continued, drumming my fingers against the cool stone armrest. "The great Tywin Lannister, who orchestrated the downfall of my family, now fleeing like a little mouse. How disappointed you must be in him."

Still nothing. Just the slightest tremor in her shoulders.

"And your brother, the Kingslayer? Your lover. What a pity, he fled with his father rather than come and save you like a charming prince." I laughed. "The mighty Lannisters. Your father boasted that a lion doesn't concern himself with the opinions of sheep. Yet here you all are, scattered like frightened lambs before the dragon."

The muscles in her jaw tightened. Her emerald eyes remained fixed on the floor, though I could see the storm brewing within them.

I pushed myself off the throne and approached her down the stairs. All eyes in the throne room were on me as I approached her. Dany, Margaery, Loras, and many nameless soldiers.

"Your legacy crumbles, Cersei. Your son is dead. Your father flees. Your golden twin abandons you. And your ancestral home, this impregnable fortress that has stood for a thousand years, fell in less than a day. A single afternoon to erase centuries of Lannister pride. I’m curious, how do you feel?"

Once, I’d felt the same that she was feeling.

Once, when my father was killed, and I had to flee Westeros with little Dany in my arms.

In another life, I'd watched her descend into madness on a television screen. I'd seen her blow up the Sept of Baelor, murder countless innocents. But that Cersei would never exist now. This one belonged to me.

"Your silence is quite refreshing," I remarked, standing and descending the steps of the dais. "I remember you being far more vocal during our first encounter."

I circled her like a predator, noting how despite her filthy state and tattered clothing, the proud curves of her body remained evident. Age had not diminished her beauty—only transformed it into something harder, sharper. Even in defeat, there was something magnificent about Cersei Lannister.

"Nothing to say?" I prompted, stopping directly before her. "The woman who always had the last word, suddenly struck dumb?"

Finally, she raised her eyes to meet mine.

The hatred in them could have melted Valyrian steel.

"Why are you taunting me? You know I haven’t argued back recently.” Although she said that, she immediately began to do the opposite, hissing. “You think you've won, acting so high and mighty. You fly in on your monsters, burning everything in your path, and call it victory."

"I don't think I've won, Cersei," I corrected her. "I know I have."

"My father—"

"Is either fleeing for his life, or perhaps killed by maddened Lannister soldiers for his attitude," I cut her off. "Either way, he's abandoned you. As everyone eventually does."

That struck home. Her chest rose with a sharp intake of breath, the chains binding her wrists clinking as her hands clenched into fists.

"You know nothing," she snarled, her composure finally shattering. "My father built the greatest house in Westeros from the ashes of weakness. He will rebuild again. And when he does, not even your dragons will save you from his vengeance."

I laughed, genuinely amused by her delusion.

"Rebuild? With what? His gold mines ran dry years ago. His armies are shattered. His fortress taken. His daughter a slave to the Dragonking." I gestured around the hall. "This is the end of House Lannister, Cersei. Are you having a hard time accepting it?"

"You filthy, inbred abomination," she spat, her face contorting with fury. "You and your whore sister—"

"Careful now," I warned, seeing her falling a bit too much into the rage bait, but she was beyond caution.

"And you," she rounded on Margaery, who watched with barely concealed satisfaction. "You smirking little rose. You think he'll make you queen? You're nothing but a—"

The chains rattled as she lurched forward, only to be yanked back by the guards. Her outburst had caused her shift to slip from one shoulder, revealing the pale skin beneath.

"A temporary amusement," Cersei finished, glaring at both Margaery and Daenerys. "He'll discard you both when he tires of you. That's what Targaryens do."

I laughed, applauding slowly. "There she is. The real Cersei Lannister. Even in chains, you can't help but bite.” My amusement seemed to infuriate her further, which only pleased me more.

I turned to the others. "Leave us," I commanded, waving a dismissive hand. "I have personal matters to discuss with our dear guest."

Margaery's eyes widened slightly, but she masked her surprise quickly, curtseying with practiced grace. "As you wish, Your Grace."

Daenerys didn't bother hiding her displeasure. Her draconic features made her scowl even more intimidating. "Brother," she began, her tone unpleasant.

"Go enjoy the sky on Drogon," I cut her off, my voice hardening. "I don't need a nursemaid, Dany. This is my conquest, my prisoner, my will."

Her tail twitched with irritation, but she didn't argue further. With a final, measuring look at Cersei, she turned and followed Margaery from the hall.

"Guards, you too," I added. They looked at the former Queen for a second, eyes flicking to her curves, her soft pale skin, and then bowed and retreated, leaving me alone with the chained lioness.

As the heavy doors swung shut, Cersei's posture changed.

Without an audience, some of her bravado faded, replaced by a wariness that was almost animal in its intensity. "What game are you playing now, Targaryen?" she demanded, though her voice lacked its earlier force.

I approached her slowly, savoring her discomfort. "No game, Cersei. Just a private conversation between a king and his subject. Is that too weird?"

"I am no subject of yours," she hissed, retreating until the chains pulled taut. "I am Cersei of House Lannister, daughter of—"

"A man who sold you to Robert Baratheon like a broodmare," I finished for her. "A man who never saw your worth beyond your womb and your beauty. A man who abandoned you to your fate."

She lunged at me then, chains be damned, her nails clawing for my face. I caught her wrists easily, my enhanced strength making her efforts seem pathetic. The motion brought her body against mine, her breasts heaving with each furious breath.

"Still so much fire," I observed, holding her immobile. "I'm almost impressed."

"I will see you dead," she promised, her voice a venomous whisper. "I will watch your flesh burn and your bones turn to ash."

I released her abruptly, causing her to stumble backward. "Interesting threats from someone whose children's lives hang by a thread."

That stopped her cold. The blood drained from her face.

"...You bastard.”

"Oh, did you think I'd forgotten about sweet Tommen? Or beautiful Myrcella in Dorne?" I returned to the throne, settling myself comfortably. "I've been quite merciful toward them thus far. Did you know I intentionally avoided meeting Myrcella when I was in Dorne? Out of... respect, let's call it. Or perhaps strategic patience."

Her breathing quickened, fear replacing rage in her eyes. "If you touch them—"

"You'll what?" I challenged. "What power do you have to stop me, Cersei? What armies, what gold, what influence?"

For a moment, just a moment, she was silent. I could see the calculations racing behind those emerald eyes, the desperate search for leverage, for any way to protect what she loved most. After all, the reason she’d behaved until I taunted her today was because I made her watch how Joffrey pissed himself as his head was severed from his body.

Then her chin lifted, her spine straightened, and the lioness returned.

"You're no better than your father," she spat. "Mad King Aerys reborn."

I sighed dramatically, leaning back against the cool stone. "And here I thought we might have a reasonable conversation, you and I. I had plans for you, Cersei. I intended to put you in charge of extracting Casterly Rock's wealth. The Lannisters always pay their debts, and I have quite a substantial one to the Iron Bank."

She stared at me, confusion momentarily replacing her defiance.

"But your attitude makes that impossible," I continued, examining my nails with affected boredom. "So I've devised an alternative. I'll fly to Dorne tomorrow, bring Myrcella back here, and fuck a child into her. Her son will inherit Casterly Rock, and through him, I'll control your family's wealth."

The blood drained from her face. Her legs seemed to give way beneath her, and she swayed dangerously.

"No," she whispered, the word barely audible. "Not Myrcella. Please..."

"Please?" I repeated, savoring the word. "Did Cersei Lannister just beg?"

"She's innocent," Cersei stammered, her voice breaking. "She's just a child. Do what you want with me, but leave her alone. Please."

I rose from the throne, approaching her trembling form. "Ah shit, you’re making me sound like some creepy old men. Myrcella’s old enough to have been sent to Dorne for engagement, right? I heard from my dear Arianne that they celebrated her 18th birthday just a few weeks back. Did anyone tell you about that? And what do you mean do what I want with you? Heh. What makes you think I'd want anything from a used-up lioness?"

When she realized begging was pointless, she growled and tried to spit at me. I stopped her before that by grabbing a fistful of her matted golden hair, yanking her head back sharply. She gasped in pain, her body arching involuntarily.

"You should have watched your place earlier, Cersei,” I hissed, forcing her to bend over the armrest of the throne. "And you'd better clean up the master's bedroom properly for your daughter soon."

Terror replaced defiance in her eyes as the full weight of her helplessness crashed down upon her. With a deliberate, cruel gesture, I tore at her tattered shift, the thin fabric giving way easily beneath my enhanced strength. Her perfectly shaped ass came into view, as she began to curse me in words that’d make a commoner cover their ears.

The mighty have truly fallen.

“You know what?” I backed off from her, “I’m not even going to fuck this used body of yours. Your daughter must have a better cunt, anyway. And don’t worry, I’ll treat her with kindness. As long as she’s not as haughty as her mother.”

I looked into her eyes as she looked back at me from her bent-over position. Slowly, I turned around and left.

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