GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag

Robert shoved her away by his knee without hurting her. Her touch didn't even make him feel warm. No matter how renowned of a beauty, the mere sight of her face boiled his blood. Oh how he wanted to bash her head right there and then and end it, but he controlled himself.

"Do you think I need your permission to make you a whore? By the gods, if I choose so, I could have you standing at the gates of a brothel, pleasuring every man who comes along for their gold!" Robert roared, leaning in so close his breath was hot against her face. His hand clutched her golden blonde hair, yanking her head back with a brutal grip. "Your cunt has only ever bred filth as foul as the venomous words you spew from that mouth. You're worthless, Cersei! Your prized cunt is worth nothing! Come the morrow, you'll face execution, alongside Joffrey and Jaime."

Horror in her eyes, Cersei pleaded, real tears streaming down her eyes. "No! No, please! Robert, please listen to me! I-I really loved you! I tried to love you so muc—"

"I see through your phony tears, Cersei," he roared. "Love, you say? Ha! You've been bedding Jaime since you were four and ten, and you've never been faithful to anyone—least of all to me or to Rhaegar, had he lived. You fancied yourself a queen who could bend the world to her will with her cunt, but in the end, you're nothing but a whore. A whore who never even earned a penny for her troubles."

Robert brought his face closer to her at that, letting her hear every word rumbling out of him. At that moment, he couldn't stop remembering the words he had exchanged with Cersei that time in that garden. When he offered her a safe passage out of King's Landing. "Did you forget? When you play the game of thrones, you win, or you die. There's no middle ground."

At those words, Cersei dumbfoundedly blinked. That was what she had said to Eddard Stark. She felt her heart skip a few beats at the plausible realization that Robert had always known everything. That he had ears on every inch of the Red Keep.

"My children! They're innocent, Robert! Myrcella and Tommen had no part in this."

Robert left her on the floor and stood back up, wiping his palms on his cloak. "Myrcella will join the Silent Sisters and Tommen will take the Black."

"No! No, no! They're innocent! Tommen is soft, Robert! He won't survive there!" Cersei cried her eyes out. Was that truly her love or just a sham? It was hard to tell.

But Robert didn't bother and turned around. "I know."

Thud!

The thick, metal door was sealed shut once again, leaving Cersei crying in utter darkness.

Robert let out a deep sigh and looked at Ser Barristan. "Did you bring the ax?"

"I have, Your Grace." Ser Barristan handed him the hand-held ax made of fine steel, sharp as a sword. "Your Grace, about Myrce—"

"A trifling gift to add to her and Jaime's misery. Do not worry, Ser Barristan, I won't treat those two wrong. They belong to me, not by blood, but by the bonds of memory," Robert clarified and started walking. "Lead me to Jaime now."

"This way."

Just a few steps forward, they soon reached Jaime's Black Cell. Once again, Ser Barriston opened the metal door with the key and led the way in personally, as Jaime posed a bigger threat. The famed Kingslayer was chained more than Cersei. Both his hands, ankles and even his neck had a metal chain attached.

From there, Robert took charge and looked at Jaime. The man was a captive of the Starks before, so he was already in a bad state. Almost all of his muscles had diminished due to a lack of food and water. His hair and beard had grown, while his complexion had paled.

"Is… Is it time?" Jaime mumbled weakly.

"Still a night left," Robert replied, placing the torch in the frame on the wall. "I supposed you'd appreciate some human contact before you're executed."

"Uh… My Father will have your head on a pike before your sword ever touches me," Jaime said with a smirk of confidence. "You've no reason to keep me here."

"Are you sure about that, Kingslayer? I believe high treason is enough to have you locked and executed."

"What treason?"

"Such as bedding the queen and siring three bastards," Robert glared, leaving no chance of any doubt for Jaime. "Deceiving your own King, betraying the realm, and turning the Faith into a jest. These are the charges that weigh upon you, Kingslayer."

"You have no proof! My Father will never believe a word from your mouth!"

"But he already has, Kingslayer," Robert sneered, his voice thick with disdain. "And not to forget, your pretty little sister, that treacherous wench, dared to defy the King's will. She tried to take my life, and in her wickedness, she disobeyed the command to make Ned the Regent. She murdered Ned… my old friend."

The more Robert spoke, the more Jaime lost his ground. The King had no doubt in his tone.

"Now, you shall watch Joffrey die. Then you shall watch your whorish sister die. As for you, Tywin has bartered many a favor to keep you breathing, but the price is still due. Ser Barristan." Robert thrust the ax into view. Ser Barristan stepped forward, gripping Jaime's sword hand with unyielding resolve. "Myrcella will find her place among the Silent Sisters, and Tommen… he'll embrace the Night's Watch."

Silent, it took some time for Jaime to realize what they were doing. He could feel his heart in his mouth and tried to pull away his hand. "N-Nooo… No! Robert, Father will—"

"Haha, Tywin knows well, Kingslayer. This is all part of the bargain!" Robert revealed, knocking the Kingslayer into a daze with his word. With no warning, he stepped forward, crouched down, and started to aim at the wrist. "Tywin cares not for your hand or your legs, only for your bloody balls! His only concern is his bloodline, and for that, he'll let me take whatever I please. Hold him tight and don't let go!"

"N-n-noooo! No, no! Please do—"

Woosh!

"Aaaaaargh!"

"This is for Bran."

A quick, heavy swing down on the wrist. It wasn't very neat but it did the job. Blood gushed out to no end, the severed hand already lying a foot away. The Kingslayer screamed non-stop, certainly his cries audible to Cersei.

"Barristan, bring the healers. We don't want him dying now." Robert ordered and pressed onto the wound with a piece of cloth to stop the blood. But as soon as Ser Barristan left, he went on with his grander plan.

Like hell, he'd so easily let Tywin have Jaime. The entire Lannister house was responsible for the mess, not just a few members. "Look at you now. You'll just be a manwhore from now. Living to sow your seed as per your father's desire. All the while your lover lays dead along with your son, another son sitting among the vilest of scums at the Wall. Poor Tommen, they do quite many vile things to soft boys like him. May the Seven have mercy on him."

Robert tied the cloth around his arm finally and stood back up.

Jaime was in no condition to fight him or even say anything, but he knew his words would be heard. "Think of your incestborn son and daughter, Jaime. When you sit to feast, let Myrcella's memory haunt your every bite, her silent form forever shrouded, tending to the dead. When you sip wine, let it choke you, thinking about Tommen and the unspeakable things that other drinking men might be doing to him at Castle Black. May you rot in your own misery for the rest of your days!"

At last, the heavy door opened and Barristan returned with the healers. They came prepared with a bucket full of burning coal, and a flat piece of iron simmering hot in it.

"I'm done here, Ser Barristan." Robert chose to return. "I'll be making my way back. You stay here, and see to it that the door is locked."

"Understood, Your Grace."

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