Aurane Waters arrives before Cersei.
Aurane: Dragonstone is yours, my Queen.
Cersei: WHAT?! OMG. This is AWESOME! And much sooner than expected. I can’t believe that little dipshit Loras did it.
Aurane: … Yeah, about Ser Loras…
Cersei: Uh huh? Go on. I’m listening.
Aurane: He made the battle much bloodier than it could have been. We could have just waited them out a little. But Loras wouldn’t wait. As soon as he arrived and took over command, he insisted on having the forces charge at once. He was impatient to win Dragonstone, so that he could have the ships to defend Highgarden. It was very bloody. Countless lives wasted.
Cersei: Okay. Why should I care? So some soldiers died. Soldiers are just little people. Dying is what they are for.
Aurane: And Ser Loras himself… he… well… he was gravely injured himself.
Cersei: Gravely? HOW gravely?
Aurane: The Maesters are treating him now. But they do not expect him to live.
Cersei: YOU MEAN WE GOT DRAGONSTONE AND LORAS IS GOING TO DIE?! OMG! OMG! OMG! THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.
Aurane: Uhh… wow… you’re kind of a terrible person.
Cersei: Shut your stupid, ugly face, Aurane. To think I had the hots for you because I thought you looked like Rhagar. Now that I look again, I don’t see it that much. Now if you’ll excuse me, this terrible, terrible news will probably reach Margaery soon. AND I WANT TO BE THE ONE WHO TELLS IT TO HER, SO I CAN WATCH THE PAIN ON HER FACE. I WANT TO SEE HER SUFFER.
Aurane: Yikes.
Cersei goes to tell Margaery. This is the reaction.
Margaery: NOOOOOOOOO!!!! *cries*
Cersei: Yes, my dear. Yes. Yes. It’s “terrible.” What “horrible” news. I’m so “sad” about it. MWAHAHAHA.
Margaery: Where can I… *sniffle*... where can I see the body and pay my last respects to my dear brother?
Cersei: Oh, well he’s not dead yet.
Margaery: What?
Cersei: I mean he’s still technically alive for now. But he’s not going to last. He’s dying.
Margaery: DYING IS NOT DEAD!
Cersei: Basically it is. As the Queen, I’ll make sure he’s well remembered by the simple, dumb, smallfolk. We throw great ceremonies for him.
Margaery: QUEEN? QUEEN?! You keep calling yourself the queen, but YOU ARE NOT. I AM THE QUEEN.I WILL SEE MY BROTHER!
Cersei: *harumph* Don’t bother wasting your time.
Margaery: YOU FUCKING WHORE! GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT OF HERE AT ONCE! I NEED TO GO SEE MY BROTHER.
Cersei would usually get quite furious about that kind of back talk. But she lets it slide, this time. She’s so happy about getting Dragonstone and Loras being near death. Now there is nobody left to protect Margaery. She can kick her out for now, but her time will come soon. SOON.
She goes to bed that night and sleeps well. The news she gets the next morning means she could be even happier than expected.
Osmund Kettleblack: So folks are here here to see you. First is some Tyroshi guy. He says he has the head of the Imp for you. Another three claim that the Imp still alive, and that they know his whereabouts.
Cersei: Could it be true? This is the seventh person coming to me with a claim that they have his head. The first six proved to be false, but they say that seven is a lucky number. The number of the gods. I shall see this Tyroshi man and the imp head.
She goes to the Iron Throne, and a man brings the head to her.
Tyroshi Man: Behold! The Imp! With his nose cut off and everything.
Cersei knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.
Cersei: That is not my brother. It looks nothing like him.
Tyroshi Man: Well, that happens with corpses. The heads bloat and everything. They look little different.
Cersei: His eyes are the wrong color.
Tyroshi Man: Well, that happens with corpses. Their eyes change color and everything. They look little different. How many imps are there out in the world with a cut-off nose?
Cersei: Look, you clearly killed a random imp and then cut the nose off afterwards. That’s a fresh cut from after death. Tyrion’s nose has had tons of time to scab up and heal. It seems like you owe this imp and apology and a nose. Also, his life. Alas, the imp is dead so you can’t do that. But you can give your life to a guy I know named Qyburn. BYE.
Tyroshi Man: HEY! WAIT! STOP! WHERE ARE THESE GUARDS TAKING ME!? WHO IS QYBURN?! AGHH!! AGHH!!!
Cersei: Ugh. This is getting tiresome.How many damn imps are there in this world anyway?
Taena Merryweather: One less than there was before.
Cersei: What? Huh? OH! OH YO, TAENA! You’re so hilarious. I love you. Okay. Bring the next three guys in.
Guy 1: I saw the Imp in a brothel in Oldtown, giving BJs to people in exche for meth.
Guy 2: I saw the Imp at a Mummer’s Show in Braavos.
Guy 3: I saw tImp drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic's. And his hair was perfect.
Cersei: What? You three are full of such bullshit. Especially Guy #2. I mean really? A mummer’s show in Braavos? You really expect me to believe that my brother, Tyrion Lannister, would actually be in a Mummer’s Show in Braavos? That is the most unlikely thing ever. Really dumb. You guys need to get out of my face with that B.S. BUT… BUT… AND THIS IS A BIG BUT. The type of but that’s so big that Sir Mix A Lot would be all lover it… BUT… if the stories you tell are true, then all you have to do is capture him, bring him back to me, and you will be handsomely rewarded.
After the whole Tyrion business, Cersei attends to other matters at court. Prince Jalabhar Xho, a refuge prince from Essos who has been barely mentioned but spends his time in Kings Landing constantly begging for help to restore is lands (going back to the times of King Robert), once again begs for help. Cersei says no.
Next is a delegation of the Warrior’s Sons, the militant religious sect that she helped reestablished.
Cersei: Why is it that I have to meet with these lowly men? It should be the High Sparrow himself that comes before the Iron Throne! And… uhm… HOLY CRAP. Is that cousin Lancel?
It is. Lancel Lannister has abandoned his Frey wife (never a good idea) and joined the Warrior’s Sons to plead before the crown.
Warrior’s Son Leader: We have come here to ask the crown to rid this Kingdom of sin! Did you know that prostitution is LEGAL here? It must be OUTLAWED AT ONCE.
Cersei: Uh. No. I am very well aware that prostitution is legal here. Why? Because it’s taxed. Do you know how much revenue we get from this ho tax? A LOT. And do you know why all the trade ships from around the world come to trade in King’s Landing? Because our amazing hos. If we got rid of prostitution, our coffers would be totally depleted.
Warrior’s Son Leader: Still though. It’s wrong so it should be banned. I think we should also put a tax on soda too.
Cersei: Ugh. Dismissed. NEXT!
She waves her hand and kicks them all out. Next comes Pycelle.
Cersei: You? Okay, what the hell do you want, you old geezer who has spent your entire life defending and protecting the Lannisters and who I now illogically distrust for no reason?
Grand Maester Pycelle: Lord Gyles Rosby, the Hand of the King, is dying. You know. The coughing guy?
Cersei: Shouldn’t you be saving his life? You ARE the Grand Maester.
Pycelle: I fear his time is up. There is only so much I can do.
Cersei: It seems like what you do is NOTHING. You can’t eal Rosby. You couldn’t heal Joffrey. You couldn’t heal Robert. What good are you?
Pycelle: ...but… but…
Cersei: -DISMISSED! OKAY, I’m done for today. Now to go have dinner.
She has dinner with her son, King Tommen. Tommen is sad about Loras dying, and Cersei tries to pretend that she is sad too. She has trouble keeping it together though, and bursts into laughter and tap dancing every few minutes.
Tommen: Margaery says he is not dead yet though. He could still live.
Cersei: Yeah, that sounds like some dumb stuff she would say.
Tommen: Margaery should come to court wit me me often.
Cersei: OH REALLY? Did she tell you to say that?
Tommen: NO! I am the King and I want her at court more. The king should get what he wants! I am the King and I command it!
Cersei: OH SHIT, you little fucker. Now you’re going to get what you deserve!
She brings Timmen to Boros Blount, whose job it is to whip Pate, a boy whose exclusive duty is to be whipped in place of the king when the king misbehaves. But this time, Cersei command Tommen to whip Pate himself, rather than have Boros do it.
Cersei: There! Take that! These are the whips you SHOULD be feeling. And I bet it hurts Pate a lot. He’ll keep getting those whips if you keep acting up.
Tommen: I bet this never worked for Joffrey, did it? Having ANOTHER boy whipped in his place when he acted up? I bet that just made him misbehave more.
Cersei: You are correct, Tommen. Joffrey was a sick, sick, sick kid. Sick. Like, REALLY sick.
Cersei then goes to bed for the evening. All the talk about Tyrion today makes her have a nightmare. She is young again in the dream. She and her two friends went to “Maggy the Frog,” the old woman who could tell people their fortunes through blood magic.
Cersei: PYCELLE! SOMEONE SEND ME PYCELLE! NOW!
And so Pycelle comes.
Cersei: Fool, do you have any potions you can give me that can make it so that I have dreamless sleep?
Pycelle: *mumbles* Yeah, that same shit that Joffrey had would work. You’d never dream again.
Cersei: WHAT WAS THAT?
Pycelle: *speaking up* I said “Yes, my queen.” At once, I shall fix you a potion for dreamless sleep.
Cersei: Before you leave, tell me. Do the Maesters believe that the future can be foretold?
Pycelle: Ah, an excellent question, Cersei. But the better question is SHOULD the future be foretold? I say, “no!” Most certainly not, because--
Cersei: --OMG, SHUT UP! This is why nobody likes you, Scaroth Last of the Jagaroth. Walter Donovan. Aris Kristatos. Aragog. Whatever your name is. Just answer the question. CAN the future be foretold?
Pycelle: No.
Cersei: *whew*
Pycelle: --Unless, of course, someone was using blood magic. You know, like a witch who cut your finger and licked the blood. That’s some dark, dark shit though. Really nasty and powerful stuff. Maybe that could work. You should avoid anything like that though.
Cersei: FUUUUUUUUUUUUU---
Her profanity echos through the hallways for the rest of the night. Finally, the next day she meets with Qyburn.
Cersei: Qyburn. How are things going. Oh, hey. Remember how I sent Lady Falyse to you to be tortured? I sort of feel bad about that now. And I realise that it basically gives Bronn a castle. So could, instead, maybe we release her and bring her back out so that she can provide a rival claim to--
Qyburn: --Ooh, no can do, your grace. I mean Falyse is technically still alive. But only technically. I would. Uhm. Yeah. Think of another option.
Cersei: I see. Well. Okay. I asked. That’s not why I wanted to see you anyway. I wanted a second opinion about prophecies from you. I asked Pycelle and I didn’t like the answer that he gave. So I’m going to ask you instead, in hopes of getting a better answer.
Qyburn: Well, my fake, sycophantic loyalty to you was what got me to this powerful position in the first place. So I will continue to tell you whatever you want to hear.
Cersei: PERFECT! So I’ve been having these dreams, right. Actually memories. When I was a kid, me and my two friends went to see this woods witch who could see the future. Maggy the Frog.
Qyburn: Maggy? You mean “Maegi?”
Cersei: Huh?
Qyburn: You know, like a “mage.” As in “magician.” Maegi. It’s a person who practices magic.
Cersei: Well, now I just dumb for saying “Maggy” my whole life, because that’s super obvious. But anyway… this… Maegi… she told us our futures. She told me that I’d marry a king. I did. She told me I’d be queen. I did. She told me the accurate number of children that I would have, three, as well as of Robert’ affairs and his sixteen bastard children. It all came true. But there was part also about another Queen replacing me. Younger and more beautiful. I’m pretty sure she was talking about Margaery.
Qyburn: Well, I mean there is nothing to say that this lady is legit. Maybe it was just blind luck. You asked if you’d become Queen. She said yes. That’s like a 50-50 guess there. And three kids for a woman is a pretty decent guess and on par with a logical number of kids a woman should have. The sixteen bastard kids for Robert - are you sure that number is accurate? I mean WHO KNOWS how many kids he really had, so you’re probably just guessing that’s right. Are you really sure that shas a real Maegi?
Cersei: Yeah, I left this other part out. You see, my other friend…
Qyburn: Man, this story is turning me on so much. What happens next?
Cersei: I mean, obviously Melara died not long after that. My point is… THE MAEGI WAS RIGHT! About everything.
Qyburn: Hrmm. And you wish to know if her prophecies can be… prevented?
Cerei: YES! YES!
Qyburn: Oh, of course you can prevent them.
Cersei: HOW?! HOW?! How do I prevent Margaery from replacing me?
Qyburn: You know how.
Qyburn gives her a look. You know the one. It’s the “we spend most of our time together brutally murdering people” look.
Cersei: Ah. Right. Good point. I do. But if I’m going to have Margaery executed… it has to be for a reason that nobody can question. Not even the Tyrells. It’s going to have to be for some really, really, horrendous treason.
She goes to bed that night, thinking of various devious plans to rid herself of the real queen. The next morning, she summons Ser Osmund.
Osmund: Whattup?
Cersei: Tell me, do you think your broth Osney could kill Boros Blount?
Osmund: That fat, old drunk? Sure. I’m pretty sure Loras on his deathbed could kill him. Why? Has Blount committed some treason?
Cersei: No. But Ser Osney has! MWAHAHAHA!
Osmund: Huh?
Cersei: …
Osmund: I don’t get it.
Cersei: *sigh* Do I have to explain everything? I’m going to have Ser Osney make some outrageous claims about wild, orgy parties with Margaery Tyrell. The accusation will mean that Margaery has committed treason and will be put on trial. Of course, she can ask for a trial by combat. And, as the Queen, it is incumbent on her to choose a member of the Kingsguard. I’ll appoint Ser Boros as the King’s Champion to "defend Margaery's honor" and fight Osney. Osney will win!
Osmund: Oh.
Cersei: MWAHAHAHA! I AM A GENIUS! THIS PLAN CANNOT FAIL!
Osmund: But what if--
Cersei: --DID YOU HEAR ME, FOOL? I SAID THIS PLAN CANNOT FAIL!
Aurane: Dragonstone is yours, my Queen.
Cersei: WHAT?! OMG. This is AWESOME! And much sooner than expected. I can’t believe that little dipshit Loras did it.
Aurane: … Yeah, about Ser Loras…
Cersei: Uh huh? Go on. I’m listening.
Aurane: He made the battle much bloodier than it could have been. We could have just waited them out a little. But Loras wouldn’t wait. As soon as he arrived and took over command, he insisted on having the forces charge at once. He was impatient to win Dragonstone, so that he could have the ships to defend Highgarden. It was very bloody. Countless lives wasted.
Cersei: Okay. Why should I care? So some soldiers died. Soldiers are just little people. Dying is what they are for.
Aurane: And Ser Loras himself… he… well… he was gravely injured himself.
Cersei: Gravely? HOW gravely?
Aurane: The Maesters are treating him now. But they do not expect him to live.
Cersei: YOU MEAN WE GOT DRAGONSTONE AND LORAS IS GOING TO DIE?! OMG! OMG! OMG! THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.
Aurane: Uhh… wow… you’re kind of a terrible person.
Cersei: Shut your stupid, ugly face, Aurane. To think I had the hots for you because I thought you looked like Rhagar. Now that I look again, I don’t see it that much. Now if you’ll excuse me, this terrible, terrible news will probably reach Margaery soon. AND I WANT TO BE THE ONE WHO TELLS IT TO HER, SO I CAN WATCH THE PAIN ON HER FACE. I WANT TO SEE HER SUFFER.
Aurane: Yikes.
Cersei goes to tell Margaery. This is the reaction.
Margaery: NOOOOOOOOO!!!! *cries*
Cersei: Yes, my dear. Yes. Yes. It’s “terrible.” What “horrible” news. I’m so “sad” about it. MWAHAHAHA.
Margaery: Where can I… *sniffle*... where can I see the body and pay my last respects to my dear brother?
Cersei: Oh, well he’s not dead yet.
Margaery: What?
Cersei: I mean he’s still technically alive for now. But he’s not going to last. He’s dying.
Margaery: DYING IS NOT DEAD!
Cersei: Basically it is. As the Queen, I’ll make sure he’s well remembered by the simple, dumb, smallfolk. We throw great ceremonies for him.
Margaery: QUEEN? QUEEN?! You keep calling yourself the queen, but YOU ARE NOT. I AM THE QUEEN.I WILL SEE MY BROTHER!
Cersei: *harumph* Don’t bother wasting your time.
Margaery: YOU FUCKING WHORE! GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT OF HERE AT ONCE! I NEED TO GO SEE MY BROTHER.
Cersei would usually get quite furious about that kind of back talk. But she lets it slide, this time. She’s so happy about getting Dragonstone and Loras being near death. Now there is nobody left to protect Margaery. She can kick her out for now, but her time will come soon. SOON.
She goes to bed that night and sleeps well. The news she gets the next morning means she could be even happier than expected.
Osmund Kettleblack: So folks are here here to see you. First is some Tyroshi guy. He says he has the head of the Imp for you. Another three claim that the Imp still alive, and that they know his whereabouts.
Cersei: Could it be true? This is the seventh person coming to me with a claim that they have his head. The first six proved to be false, but they say that seven is a lucky number. The number of the gods. I shall see this Tyroshi man and the imp head.
She goes to the Iron Throne, and a man brings the head to her.
Tyroshi Man: Behold! The Imp! With his nose cut off and everything.
Cersei knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.
Cersei: That is not my brother. It looks nothing like him.
Tyroshi Man: Well, that happens with corpses. The heads bloat and everything. They look little different.
Cersei: His eyes are the wrong color.
Tyroshi Man: Well, that happens with corpses. Their eyes change color and everything. They look little different. How many imps are there out in the world with a cut-off nose?
Cersei: Look, you clearly killed a random imp and then cut the nose off afterwards. That’s a fresh cut from after death. Tyrion’s nose has had tons of time to scab up and heal. It seems like you owe this imp and apology and a nose. Also, his life. Alas, the imp is dead so you can’t do that. But you can give your life to a guy I know named Qyburn. BYE.
Tyroshi Man: HEY! WAIT! STOP! WHERE ARE THESE GUARDS TAKING ME!? WHO IS QYBURN?! AGHH!! AGHH!!!
Cersei: Ugh. This is getting tiresome.How many damn imps are there in this world anyway?
Taena Merryweather: One less than there was before.
Cersei: What? Huh? OH! OH YO, TAENA! You’re so hilarious. I love you. Okay. Bring the next three guys in.
Guy 1: I saw the Imp in a brothel in Oldtown, giving BJs to people in exche for meth.
Guy 2: I saw the Imp at a Mummer’s Show in Braavos.
Guy 3: I saw tImp drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic's. And his hair was perfect.
Cersei: What? You three are full of such bullshit. Especially Guy #2. I mean really? A mummer’s show in Braavos? You really expect me to believe that my brother, Tyrion Lannister, would actually be in a Mummer’s Show in Braavos? That is the most unlikely thing ever. Really dumb. You guys need to get out of my face with that B.S. BUT… BUT… AND THIS IS A BIG BUT. The type of but that’s so big that Sir Mix A Lot would be all lover it… BUT… if the stories you tell are true, then all you have to do is capture him, bring him back to me, and you will be handsomely rewarded.
After the whole Tyrion business, Cersei attends to other matters at court. Prince Jalabhar Xho, a refuge prince from Essos who has been barely mentioned but spends his time in Kings Landing constantly begging for help to restore is lands (going back to the times of King Robert), once again begs for help. Cersei says no.
Next is a delegation of the Warrior’s Sons, the militant religious sect that she helped reestablished.
Cersei: Why is it that I have to meet with these lowly men? It should be the High Sparrow himself that comes before the Iron Throne! And… uhm… HOLY CRAP. Is that cousin Lancel?
It is. Lancel Lannister has abandoned his Frey wife (never a good idea) and joined the Warrior’s Sons to plead before the crown.
Warrior’s Son Leader: We have come here to ask the crown to rid this Kingdom of sin! Did you know that prostitution is LEGAL here? It must be OUTLAWED AT ONCE.
Cersei: Uh. No. I am very well aware that prostitution is legal here. Why? Because it’s taxed. Do you know how much revenue we get from this ho tax? A LOT. And do you know why all the trade ships from around the world come to trade in King’s Landing? Because our amazing hos. If we got rid of prostitution, our coffers would be totally depleted.
Warrior’s Son Leader: Still though. It’s wrong so it should be banned. I think we should also put a tax on soda too.
Cersei: Ugh. Dismissed. NEXT!
She waves her hand and kicks them all out. Next comes Pycelle.
Cersei: You? Okay, what the hell do you want, you old geezer who has spent your entire life defending and protecting the Lannisters and who I now illogically distrust for no reason?
Grand Maester Pycelle: Lord Gyles Rosby, the Hand of the King, is dying. You know. The coughing guy?
Cersei: Shouldn’t you be saving his life? You ARE the Grand Maester.
Pycelle: I fear his time is up. There is only so much I can do.
Cersei: It seems like what you do is NOTHING. You can’t eal Rosby. You couldn’t heal Joffrey. You couldn’t heal Robert. What good are you?
Pycelle: ...but… but…
Cersei: -DISMISSED! OKAY, I’m done for today. Now to go have dinner.
She has dinner with her son, King Tommen. Tommen is sad about Loras dying, and Cersei tries to pretend that she is sad too. She has trouble keeping it together though, and bursts into laughter and tap dancing every few minutes.
Tommen: Margaery says he is not dead yet though. He could still live.
Cersei: Yeah, that sounds like some dumb stuff she would say.
Tommen: Margaery should come to court wit me me often.
Cersei: OH REALLY? Did she tell you to say that?
Tommen: NO! I am the King and I want her at court more. The king should get what he wants! I am the King and I command it!
Cersei: OH SHIT, you little fucker. Now you’re going to get what you deserve!
She brings Timmen to Boros Blount, whose job it is to whip Pate, a boy whose exclusive duty is to be whipped in place of the king when the king misbehaves. But this time, Cersei command Tommen to whip Pate himself, rather than have Boros do it.
Cersei: There! Take that! These are the whips you SHOULD be feeling. And I bet it hurts Pate a lot. He’ll keep getting those whips if you keep acting up.
Tommen: I bet this never worked for Joffrey, did it? Having ANOTHER boy whipped in his place when he acted up? I bet that just made him misbehave more.
Cersei: You are correct, Tommen. Joffrey was a sick, sick, sick kid. Sick. Like, REALLY sick.
Cersei then goes to bed for the evening. All the talk about Tyrion today makes her have a nightmare. She is young again in the dream. She and her two friends went to “Maggy the Frog,” the old woman who could tell people their fortunes through blood magic.
Kid Cersei: Tell me my future, you filthy hag crone.Back in the present, Cersei wakes up in a hot sweat. She has had this nightmare many times in the past. And it’s not just a simple dream. It’s what actually happened in the past.
Maggy the Frog: Wow, you’re rude.
She cuts Cersei’s finger and licks up her blood.
Maggy: I will answer your question three.
Kid Cersei: Wait… you’ll answer my questions three? Are you a troll or something? No wait… stop… STOP… those don’t count as the questions, just to make sure you understand me. Those were rhetorical and don’t count against my tally of three. Okay. Here we go. Will I marry the Prince?
Maggy: No. You will marry THE KING!
Kid Cersei: OH SWEET! So I guess Rhaegar will be king one day. Awesome. Okay, question two. Will that make me the Queen?
Maggy: Aye, you shall be Queen. Until another comes along, more young and beautiful than you. She will cast you down and take away all you hold dear.
Kid Cersei: BOOO! I hate your dumb answers, you old hag. Okay, last question. Will I and the King have any children?
Maggy: Sixteen shall the King have, and three for you--
Kid Cersei: --Huh? That doesn’t make any sense. How can the King have 16 and me only have 3?
Maggy: --*ahem* I wasn’t done yet. Three for you. All three will wear gold crowns and all three will wear gold shrouds when you bury them. As as you’re crying over all three of your kid’s dead bodies, the valonqar will wrap his hands around your pale white throat and coke the life from you.”
Kid Cersei: Kinky. I mean… wait… WHAT?! AGHH!!!!
She knocks over Maggy the Frog’s table and starts kicking everything around in the room. She really, really, really did not like this prophecy and she’s obviously always been a total bitch.
Cersei: PYCELLE! SOMEONE SEND ME PYCELLE! NOW!
And so Pycelle comes.
Cersei: Fool, do you have any potions you can give me that can make it so that I have dreamless sleep?
Pycelle: *mumbles* Yeah, that same shit that Joffrey had would work. You’d never dream again.
Cersei: WHAT WAS THAT?
Pycelle: *speaking up* I said “Yes, my queen.” At once, I shall fix you a potion for dreamless sleep.
Cersei: Before you leave, tell me. Do the Maesters believe that the future can be foretold?
Pycelle: Ah, an excellent question, Cersei. But the better question is SHOULD the future be foretold? I say, “no!” Most certainly not, because--
Cersei: --OMG, SHUT UP! This is why nobody likes you, Scaroth Last of the Jagaroth. Walter Donovan. Aris Kristatos. Aragog. Whatever your name is. Just answer the question. CAN the future be foretold?
Pycelle: No.
Cersei: *whew*
Pycelle: --Unless, of course, someone was using blood magic. You know, like a witch who cut your finger and licked the blood. That’s some dark, dark shit though. Really nasty and powerful stuff. Maybe that could work. You should avoid anything like that though.
Cersei: FUUUUUUUUUUUUU---
Her profanity echos through the hallways for the rest of the night. Finally, the next day she meets with Qyburn.
Cersei: Qyburn. How are things going. Oh, hey. Remember how I sent Lady Falyse to you to be tortured? I sort of feel bad about that now. And I realise that it basically gives Bronn a castle. So could, instead, maybe we release her and bring her back out so that she can provide a rival claim to--
Qyburn: --Ooh, no can do, your grace. I mean Falyse is technically still alive. But only technically. I would. Uhm. Yeah. Think of another option.
Cersei: I see. Well. Okay. I asked. That’s not why I wanted to see you anyway. I wanted a second opinion about prophecies from you. I asked Pycelle and I didn’t like the answer that he gave. So I’m going to ask you instead, in hopes of getting a better answer.
Qyburn: Well, my fake, sycophantic loyalty to you was what got me to this powerful position in the first place. So I will continue to tell you whatever you want to hear.
Cersei: PERFECT! So I’ve been having these dreams, right. Actually memories. When I was a kid, me and my two friends went to see this woods witch who could see the future. Maggy the Frog.
Qyburn: Maggy? You mean “Maegi?”
Cersei: Huh?
Qyburn: You know, like a “mage.” As in “magician.” Maegi. It’s a person who practices magic.
Cersei: Well, now I just dumb for saying “Maggy” my whole life, because that’s super obvious. But anyway… this… Maegi… she told us our futures. She told me that I’d marry a king. I did. She told me I’d be queen. I did. She told me the accurate number of children that I would have, three, as well as of Robert’ affairs and his sixteen bastard children. It all came true. But there was part also about another Queen replacing me. Younger and more beautiful. I’m pretty sure she was talking about Margaery.
Qyburn: Well, I mean there is nothing to say that this lady is legit. Maybe it was just blind luck. You asked if you’d become Queen. She said yes. That’s like a 50-50 guess there. And three kids for a woman is a pretty decent guess and on par with a logical number of kids a woman should have. The sixteen bastard kids for Robert - are you sure that number is accurate? I mean WHO KNOWS how many kids he really had, so you’re probably just guessing that’s right. Are you really sure that shas a real Maegi?
Cersei: Yeah, I left this other part out. You see, my other friend…
Melara: HAHAH! OMG Cersei! You look really dumb now! This Maggy woman just told you that your husband will cheat on you and all your kids will die. And some guy named “Valonqar” will kill you.
Maggy: No, “valonqar” is just a Valyrian word that means “little brother.” Her little brother will kill her.
Kid Cersei: NO! NO! It’s not true! That monster Tyrion will never kill me!
Maggy: Hey, and by the way, I also wanted to use this narrative opportunity to point out that for no particular reason, Tyrion also specifically told the Red Viper in Chapter 66 of A Storm of Swords that although Cersei and Jaime are twins, Cersei came out first. That would also make Jaime Cersei’s little brother. Hrm. I wonder why exactly that bit of dialogue was included there.
Melara: This is so much fun, Maggy! Do me next! Do me next!
Maggy cuts Melara's finger and licks her blood.
Melara: Jaime is so hot!
Kid Cersei: STOP TALKING ABOUT MY MAN!
Melara: What? Eww. He’s your brother. Not your man.
Kid Cersei: Uhh… ermm… I mean…
Melara: ANYWAY… Maggy! Will I marry Jaime?
Maggy: No, you shall marry no man. Your virginity will be taken by the worms in the ground who feast on your corpse.
Qyburn: Man, this story is turning me on so much. What happens next?
Cersei: I mean, obviously Melara died not long after that. My point is… THE MAEGI WAS RIGHT! About everything.
Qyburn: Hrmm. And you wish to know if her prophecies can be… prevented?
Cerei: YES! YES!
Qyburn: Oh, of course you can prevent them.
Cersei: HOW?! HOW?! How do I prevent Margaery from replacing me?
Qyburn: You know how.
Qyburn gives her a look. You know the one. It’s the “we spend most of our time together brutally murdering people” look.
Cersei: Ah. Right. Good point. I do. But if I’m going to have Margaery executed… it has to be for a reason that nobody can question. Not even the Tyrells. It’s going to have to be for some really, really, horrendous treason.
She goes to bed that night, thinking of various devious plans to rid herself of the real queen. The next morning, she summons Ser Osmund.
Osmund: Whattup?
Cersei: Tell me, do you think your broth Osney could kill Boros Blount?
Osmund: That fat, old drunk? Sure. I’m pretty sure Loras on his deathbed could kill him. Why? Has Blount committed some treason?
Cersei: No. But Ser Osney has! MWAHAHAHA!
Osmund: Huh?
Cersei: …
Osmund: I don’t get it.
Cersei: *sigh* Do I have to explain everything? I’m going to have Ser Osney make some outrageous claims about wild, orgy parties with Margaery Tyrell. The accusation will mean that Margaery has committed treason and will be put on trial. Of course, she can ask for a trial by combat. And, as the Queen, it is incumbent on her to choose a member of the Kingsguard. I’ll appoint Ser Boros as the King’s Champion to "defend Margaery's honor" and fight Osney. Osney will win!
Osmund: Oh.
Cersei: MWAHAHAHA! I AM A GENIUS! THIS PLAN CANNOT FAIL!
Osmund: But what if--
Cersei: --DID YOU HEAR ME, FOOL? I SAID THIS PLAN CANNOT FAIL!
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