Small Council Meeting - II

Cersei Lannister once again found herself seated in the Small Council chambers, smelling of rich perfumes, with the grace of a Queen.

Furnished with fine carpets from Myr, intricate tapestries from the Free Cities of Norvos, Qohor and Lys from across the Narrow Sea.

A carved screen kept watch over them.

Yet, what may have sounded like a story-like luxury to the common man was but briefly considered by the Queen Dowager before her green eyes found themselves studying the members of the Small Council.

"I see you've decided to grace us with your presence, Grand Maester." She mocked calmly, narrowing her eyes at the decrepit old man fondling a greying beard that hid his small lips.

Grand Maester Pycelle lowered his head, and the dozen or so chains covering his breasts and neck clanked with the movement, "A...Apologies, my Queen. I fear my... old body betrays me."

Cersei scoffed at those words, knowing full well just how old the man truly was, and of all the ways a 'man his age' indulged himself with girls young enough to be his grandchildren.

She then turned to eye Varys.

The Master of Whisperers was a withdrawn individual who gave away little, but she could see the grimace on his plump face as he rubbed his hands together.

"What news of the realm, Lord Varys?"

The eunuch raised his head, casting a sideways glance at her son who was sitting at the head of the table, fiddling boredly with a cup.

"Didn't you hear her?" The young King glared, "Out with it!"

She smiled at her little boy, pleased with the man that he was slowly becoming... He had barged into the meeting at threat of violence if any were to try and dissuade him but... such was his right, he was the king.

"As you command, Your Grace." The Master of Whisperers bowed his head once again, "The Twins have fallen."

She didn't know how he had news of something that had occurred halfway across the realm but she knew not to ask either, his so-called birds were spread all around the Seven Kingdoms and rumours flew about that it was some sort of vile witchcraft that allowed them to do so.

"What?" Joffrey interjected, swallowing wine from his cup before cocking his head, "What does that mean?"

"The Twins... provide easy entry to the Riverlands for the North, cutting down the time it takes to travel." Varys explained calmly, "The Freys that rule them exact a heavy toll and are... put simply, quite loathed by their neighbors. With them gone, there is nothing to halt the North from reinforcing the Riverlands... They ar-" He stopped short and corrected himself, "Were, swayed by promise of coin or influence... Were they in power, your grandsire might have struck something of a deal."

At the mention of coin, Cersei noted the absence of Lord Petyr Baelish, who had left for the Vale some time ago with a strange haste, in the dead of the night... Though it was by her order so she knew not to worry.

Joffrey cocked his head at those words, "Why do we have need of a deal? I'll crush the traitor Stark's head myself."

"Of course, Your Grace." Varys accepted humbly, "But it is not their absence that worries... it is that they still burn red like the setting Sun and... by the word of many... were reduced to their current state by a single man... in a storm."

Cersei's eyes widened ever so slightly at those words but before she could share her thoughts, Pycelle spoke up, his wrinkled face red in what may have been anger, "Foolish nonsense spread by unlearnt idiots. It is simply not possible!"

The Queen Dowager shared his thoughts.

"Hahahahaha..." Joffrey laughed at Varys, "Have you gone senile, Varys? A man? What's next? Robb Stark can become a wolf? Have you found a flying pig yet?"

Varys grimaced at his words, "Be that as it may, your Grace... It has happened, and word will spread. Perhaps it is the work of a shadowbinder or bloodmage from Asshai?"

Perhaps an aeromancer, a shaman, a stormsinger or a warlock?

Cersei scoffed again, "Fairytales all. I did not think the Master of Whisperers to be one for superstition."

No answer came from Varys, but she saw his face pale and his hands tremble at some thought that eluded them all.

"Then how are we to make sense of it?" Varys asked quietly.

He then clasped his hands together and took a deep breath, "The Twins are not the only casualty, Your Grace."

Joffrey only sipped his wine and raised a curious brow while Pycelle grew more and more agitated with each word that Varys spoke.

"The Iron Islands were swallowed up by storm and sea... Pyke burns with the same flame for all to see."

A silence descended on the Small Council chamber and even Cersei didn't know how to break it.

Her mind raced with thoughts of fairy tales, of the dragons that conquered the Seven Kingdoms and of the skulls that hung as mere decorations of a bygone dynasty under the Red Keep.

How was it possible?

"Looks like even the sea got fed up with them." Joffrey laughed uneasily, before rising from his seat and walking over to a table by the side. He picked up an apple and bit into it, using one arm to steady himself, "Good riddance, I say. The Seven are smiling on my rule, to rid us of a blight."

Pycelle nodded in agreement, "I...It was nature's fury that took them all."

A shaky excuse, Cersei noted.

The Queen then looked to the one who brought them the news.

Varys sat quietly, appearing smaller than he was, as if he was trying to retreat into the soft warmth of the silken robes he wore... His gaze was unsettled.

She didn't know what sort of thoughts were in his mind but she felt she didn't want to know them either... so, the Queen used her own mind and turned to Pycelle, "Might we implore the Citadel to shed light on the incidents?"

The Citadel, situated in Oldtown, the seat of House Hightower on the southwestern coast of the Reach, was the home of all Maesters.

It was a place of learning and fact, where knowledge spanning centuries was kept and safeguarded, and where each Maester acquired the knowledge necessary to forge the chains they wore around their necks as proof of their study.

"A wise proposal, my Queen." Pycelle bowed his bald spotted head again, flattering her for common sense, "I shall send a raven at once."

"What of the smallfolk?" Cersei inquired, not paying the old Maester any attention.

Varys' dismay disappeared so quickly one would think it was never there, "As I shared... Rumors wil-... have spread. The smallfolk claim it is the work of a vengeful God, the Septons claim it is the Father's justice towards unfounded cruelty... Both House Frey and the Ironborn."

Pycelle huffed at him, stroking his long beard, "Leave it to those fools to blow such a thing to absurd proportions."

Surprisingly enough, Cersei was inclined to agree with the old Maester.

"I shall have the High Septon answer for these claims." Joffrey declared with a clenched fist.

Cersei noted his words, she would have to dissuade him from that in private.

The Faith of the Seven was too far spread in its influence and power to be challenged in such a way, and they were fully aware of it.

"Ah, speaking of ravens." Pycelle started. He reached into his robes, producing a letter sealed with the lion of House Lannister, "This arrived earlier today... Forgive me, I almost forgot."

He passed it to her with a shaky grip and she quickly tore it open.

Cersei's chest swelled with elation and her heart beat a stroke faster when she noticed that it was from her twin brother and lover, Jaime Lannister... Then she parsed its contents and her heart sank farther than she thought possible in fright and worry.

"L...Lord Varys was correct." She tried to keep herself together, tossing the letter at the Master of Whisperers who cocked his head in confusion before picking it up.

"What happened, mother?" Joffrey noticed her flustered state and hurried to her side, his deep green eyes flashing with worry, "Out with it now! What does it say?"

Cersei smiled and cupped her son's cheeks in her hands, "My... sweet boy. Thank you for worrying."

"The Lannister forces marching through the Golden Tooth under Ser Jaime Lannister were routed fully." Varys explained somberly, a little too calm for the nature of his words.

"What?"

"By the Gods, how?" Pycelle asked.

The Master of Whisperers paused.

"How?! I demand you answer me!"

"The hills around the pass fell apart... struck by thunder." Varys spoke slowly, unsure of his own words, "Thunder called down... By Ser Jaime Lannister's own words... Thunder called down by a man… The Lannister host regroups at Sarsfield and will cross the hills by the Gold Road."

He didn't need to say anything further.

Joffrey fell back into his chair, eyes wide in disbelief, disbelief that quickly changed to frustration, "Is this meant to be some kind of joke?!"

"The seal is House Lannister... The make and words are of your uncle, Your Grace."

"How is that possible?!" The King shouted indignantly, yet none there had any answer to give him.

It was absurd to even consider such a thing.

Had her brother gone mad?

Cersei wondered to herself, gulping the wine in front of her, "...I require more."

Jaime wasn't one for jokes like these, and he certainly didn't appreciate losing in any form so... she had no choice but to accept his words.

"I-I must deliberate with the Citadel." Pycelle stood up and bowed low, "I beg your leave, Your Grace."

"Go, at once! And don't come back without an explanation!" Joffrey shouted at the Grand Maester who shuffled away with shaky steps as soon as he was done.

Varys stood up too, but he only moved to a nearby table to retrieve a jug of honeyed wine before making his way to her side and pouring it in her cup.

As she watched the liquid flow, a thought came to the wise Queen whose guile and tact saw her son placed on the throne, "It was a man, yes?"

"A man. Karl is the name given by Ser Jaime... from Asshai perhaps?" Varys nodded, being careful not to spill.

The Queen Dowager smiled at his words as she plotted once more.

"Why would he side with the Starks or the Tullys?"

"I'll have his traitorous head!" Joffrey shouted, slamming a clenched fist onto the long table between them, "Announce it! A thousand gold dragons to the one that brings me the bastard's head!"

Cersei smiled at her son... They didn't know what he looked like, or where he was... but she didn't share those thoughts.

Though...

If he was a man then...

The hearts of men were motivated by greed and lust and little else.

In front of women, their hearts were weak.

In front of her, weaker still.

"Find him, as soon as possible, Lord Varys."

"As you wish, my Queen." The Master of Whisperers accepted his task humbly.

Joffrey stomped off angrily, and thus their council ended... or it was supposed to.

"How much did they give him, I wonder?" Cersei mused, having rationalized his actions but not the nature of them... She didn't need to understand the extent of his prowess or fear him outright just yet, she just needed to bring him under her thumb like all others.

She received no answer as she calmly took a sip of wine.

"Perhaps you were right, after all."

"I am honored by your approval, my Queen." Varys accepted her praise neutrally, "Might it be wise to believe that the downfall of House Frey and the ironborn may have been caused by this person?"

Cersei pursed her lips and tilted her head in thought, "House Frey perhaps, but it is a far stretch to believe the Iron Islands were sunk by the hand of a man... And I believe Jaime made no mention of this so-called crimson fire."

"If I may, my Queen." Varys started, still standing beside her, "I find the prospect that it was the work of a separate person a much more terrifying thing to consider... if true."

Cersei lifted her chin and stared at the bald eunuch, "Then I suppose you should get to work."

The Master of Whisperers took his leave quickly.

"Thunder and fire, is it?"

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Hope you enjoyed.

Comment your thoughts.

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I tried to find a balance between shock, disbelief and acceptance in the reactions of the people considering the nature of Westeros itself, as in, a superstitious medieval society.

I felt they'd be shocked and terrified but at the same time, find ways to explain and/or adapt to occurrences quickly enough due to the nature of their world. The dragons existed for them, and mages/sorcerors still exist in Planetos as a whole.

This is because they have no way of actually fully knowing just WHAT Karl can do if sufficiently incentivized too, even if his first public action is to cause a landslide by throwing lightning at it.

I felt they'd try to work around him (the lords at least) in the moment and the realisation of just what his presence dictates would set in slowly as time passes and they consider just what the facts actually are/entail.

The commonfolk would immediately attribute his feats to the works of a god, or outright believe he is one.

I did the same thing with Balon, where he intially tried to resist the attack on the Iron Islands but fell into despair when it set in just how fucked the situation was.

What do you think?

Even today, if say aliens or otherworlders attacked Earth or something, sure we common peeps would probably lose our shit but the people in power, or the heads of the militaries at least, would probably take minutes before they started coming up with ways to research and tackle the new problem.

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