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Making a Man and a Queen	By : Allyrion Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 76064 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones, nor is this story for the purpose of making money.

Chapter List
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So I could say I decided to write a bit more on this particular story after all, but if truth be told it has been around for a while. One can place the blame on the current Game of Thrones season for...stimulating interest.
That said, my interest in fanfiction is flagging as I turn to more mainstream writing...so enjoy this tale while it lasts..
I warn you now that the parts which follow are not as complete or as streamlined as the first, particularly in the ending of this part. Even so, I still hope people can find enjoyment in my writings...better a touch incomplete than leaving them unread on my computer...I hope.

Cersei Lannister was almost in tears, but it would not do to show it.
Years at court and its politics had taught her how to shield her emotions from outward eyes. Instead Cersei kept her face in a rigid mask as she studied the wedding of her son King Tommen I Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell before her with fury. They should never have been here; Joffrey should still be their sovereign, her precious firstborn who had died horribly not long ago.
This was all Tyrion's fault. Her wretched dwarf of a brother had been trying to usurp her rightful power ever since he had returned to King's Landing with his barbarous mountain men. First he had somehow manipulated Father into being named Hand of the King and then dared to promise to turn her joy to ashes.
He had begun to make good on the vow by poisoning his own nephew Joffrey, something Cersei knew to be with an unshakeable certainty. She would do all she could to make sure of Tyrion paid for his role in the crime.
At least her wretched dwarf of a brother was out of the way now though, rotting in a dungeon awaiting his trial. Instead Cersei was plagued by the wretched Tyrell girl attempting to steal Tommen right from under her. Worse, she was succeeding, and even her own father would not be dissuaded from the marriage.
"The alliances with the South must be maintained," Tywin Lannister had said to inexorably override his daughter's protests. "This match is important to preserve our House's hold upon the Iron Throne. Margaery Tyrell is needed, not your maternal concerns."
So it came to pass that Cersei was powerless now but to watch as Tommen now lifted his beaming new bride upwards. Her last remaining son. so clearly ensnared by this ambitious little upstart of a girl.
Unable to wholly contain herself, Cersei grabbed hold of Margaery as the Tyrell girl passed by. As they turned away from the guests below her grip turned to iron.
"Do not touch my son, Margaery," Cersei said in a vicious undertone. "I will make you as sorry as you've ever been if you do."
Margaery did not deign to reply with words. Instead, ignoring Cersei's fury with a brilliant smile that infuriated the blonde further, she broke away to depart hand in arm with Tommen. The new queen seemed to have eyes only for the guests and not the mother who had just threatened her.
Cersei remained where she was, inwardly seething as she watched them both leave, with many of the guests regaling the King with meaningless congratulations as he passed. Then the double doors closed to block off sight of her son.
The queen regent sat afterward, permitting herself a long, steadying sip of wine. She knew was drinking more these days after Joffrey's death, but it seemed like something to help numb the traumas of her life.
There wasn't much need to stay any longer. The meal was over and now that Tommen and Margaery had departed many guests had chosen to rise themselves. The more she reflected upon it the more she felt she should do the same. To say Cersei had become sick of weddings such as these was an understatement.
Once more she stood as Lord Tywin's cold eyes followed her ascent beside her. "Father," she said stiffly in farewell before gathering her skirts and descending in a swirl of cloth.
There was one important matter to attend to before the return to her chambers.
She swept along, head held high with its golden locks snared by a jeweled piece. Her movements revealed how the wine had started to affect her and Cersei knew she was nowhere near as graceful as she should have been.
Her target was standing stiffly at one end of the room, watching the dinner guests in his immaculate white armor. There was something less perfect about his golden artificial hand though which gave him a unique appearance from his so-called brothers.
Lord Commander Jaime Lannister had been changed by his recent experiences, and not for the better, Cersei judged. He was older, greyer, slower, those same green eyes as hers filled with something new of late, less and less her twin by the day.
"Sister," Jaime greeted without emotion, the white cloak of the Kingsguard streaming easily behind him.
"Lord Commander. I have come to ensure my son is being kept safe."
Jaime didn't quite dare to roll his eyes given the setting, but Cersei knew he was sorely tempted. He considered her fears groundless, but this was not unfamiliar ground for them to tread.
"I've scheduled four men at all times Cersei, just like you asked."
"Four men and you. Depleted as you are, you are still my brother and therefore worth far more than fools like Ser Boros."
"You are being paranoid, Cersei." Jaime was daring to once more vex her with his useless arguments. "No one is going to harm Tommen."
"No one was supposed to harm Joffrey. Or Robert." Cersei leaned in closer, so that she knew that Jaime could smell the alcohol on her breath. "Or Aerys."
Jaime tensed at that, his eyes hardening. "Go to bed, Cersei. You've been drinking too much."
"I've drunk as much as I've needed to endure this wedding and that wretched Margaery. Tommen deserves far better than the likes of that strumpet."
"Careful, sister." Jaime looked behind her to make sure no one was listening. "It would not do for you to be overheard talking like this."
"I don't care. I only care for my son."
Jaime made eye contact with another white knight. "Ser Meryn."
The Kingsguard knight approached swiftly, ever the diligent lackey to higher powers. "Yes, Lord Commander?"
"Escort the Queen to her chambers," Jaime commanded.
"No." Cersei said the single syllable with all the authority she could muster.
Ser Meryn hesitated in confusion as Jaime looked to his twin. "Sister, you need to-"
"You will escort me yourself, Lord Commander." Their green eyes met.
Jaime's expression did not change but she could sense his uncertainty. Their relationship of late was…complicated, to say the least. "Ser Meryn, it seems I must escort the Queen myself. Ensure the Hand and the remaining guests are suitably protected."
"Yes, Lord Commander."
Jaime moved from his solitary position he had occupied and offered Cersei an arm. The queen regent ignored it, instead sweeping ahead towards her chambers. Behind her she heard the armoured footsteps behind as Jaime followed.
No further words passed between them until she reached the threshold of her quarters several uneventful minutes later. Jaime looked uncomfortable as he opened the doors ahead to usher her inside.
"Have a good night, sister."
Cersei looked back to him with cheeks flushed from the wine...and maybe something else. "I wish a private word with you, Lord Commander."
Jaime's uncomfortableness deepened in answer. He diligently looked left and right as he passed inside. His sister closed the door herself behind him and turned with both hands drawn behind her still upon the latch.
"What is it, Cersei?"
'You." The blonde Lannister studied her brother with gleaming green eyes. "I want you."
"Cersei, this is hardly the best time-"
"You took me in the sept." Cersei moved a step closer. "You have fathered all three of my children, and yet now is the time you choose to hesitate?"
"I…" Jaime seemed at a loss for words for a moment. His sister looked so beautiful standing there, even after so much time and all they had done together.
The queen regent was clad in a shimmering green velvet gown slashed daringly down to her ample bosom. Her lovely golden hair surrounded the hairpiece that shone in the dim lantern light of the room. The sleeves were long, dangling beneath her arms she held clasped before her.
Her eyes were what held him though, green and shining with purpose near those lovely cheekbones.
"Come now to me, brother," Cersei said. She drew a hand towards him, welcomingly.
"It isn't safe, Cersei." Jaime was trying to drive the sight of her beauty out of his mind and failing miserably. "Father is still close and there are always spies everywhere."
"Oh please." The former Queen made sound of exasperation. "Our enemies have claimed the truth of us so often that no one takes it seriously anymore. Those who do know better than to show it."
Suddenly she grew vulnerable even as her hand remained outstretched outward. It was a familiar sight to Jaime; only to her twin did his sister dare to show her wounds.
"Margaery has our boy, Jaime," she said, eyes watering. "Our last child left after Tyrion contrived to send Myrcella to Dorne."
"I know Cersei, but Margaery is a good match-"
Her vulnerability was gone in an instant at that. Cersei's eyes flashed and her inviting hand abruptly lowered. "Are you also so blind to what she is?"
"Cersei-"
"Margaery wants to supplant me and take our son from us, and even you want to let her." Cersei's emerald eyes became cold. "Leave me, Lord Commander."
Jaime hesitated. He didn't want to leave like this; his sister was obviously unstable due to a mix of personality and drink. She was roiling in her various emotions; fear for Tommen, anger at Margaery, sadness for Joffrey…
"Why are you still here, ser?" Cersei demanded. "I told you-"
Jamie swept forward in his knightly armour and brought his arms around Cersei. His hands found the small of her back, his mouth meeting hers to cut off her words. The queen regent might have resisted longer but the alcohol and the own flood of her own emotions wouldn't permit it. Her own arms snaked around Jaime's body, holding him securely, clinging to him beneath the white cloak.
Their mouths broke apart, breathless. Cersei looked to Jaime, cheeks as flushed as ever, and spoke.
"Make me forget about all this. Make me remember the good things still in this world."
Jaime couldn't resist any longer. His sister needed him, and he knew now that he still wanted her more than anything as well.
The Lord Commander drew Cersei over to the bedchamber and slammed shut the door behind them.
It turned out to be a rather frenetic and swift coupling, a scene crafted by mutually repressed desires. Soon Jaime's armour lay in a pile on the ground as he stood naked above the bed. His tall, masculine form remained corded with muscle even after his recent adventures, awaking powerful, carnal memories for the queen regent.
Below, with her lovely face framed by blonde locks, Cersei Lannister lay nude upon the rich red coverlets. Her legs were slightly open, just wide enough to be temptingly inviting, her green eyes peering upwards from Jaime's masculine form up to his face. Both had beheld the glories of the other's naked form many times now, but they did so with renewed hunger now.
Jaime descended in a haze of arousal, incapable of thought in such a context. There was little else to think of; now there was only him and Cersei. It had been that way for a long time, as each were comforted by thoughts of the other through difficult times.
Here at least, things could be simple.
Perhaps he could make it like the times before, when Cersei would rage against him until he finally succeeded in turning her blows to kisses. Despite this resistance, when he entered her and made her his yet again, she would cry out in rapture under his thrusts.
At least this had been the case when he was whole, and not bestowed with the laughable excuse for a hand the golden creation he now bore was.
Jaime Lannister had more than a few things to forget himself, not unlike his sister.
This was familiar, reminding him of the times before he had lost his hand, the days when he had been full of youth and confidence.
He felt a sense of elation and power at this feeling. His face turned resolute, strong, and bereft of hesitation. Gods be damned, a beautiful woman below lay waiting for him, the only one who had ever truly owned his heart. He wound a delicate pale finger through Cersei's hair as she regarded him above with a curious expression before she spoke softly with an aching need.
"I want you…"
Jaime dutifully fell atop her in reply, his body gently crushing her breasts. The yearning behind her words was apparent and he could not resist himself. He lined himself up and thrust inside Cersei in a single, sharp movement that drew exhales and moans from both of them.
"Yes…" Cersei said. Her eyes went distant, analyzing the sensations of his cock wonderfully filling her yet again. "You feel so good Jaime...that is where you have always belonged…"
Her brother replied by sliding out and back in with a gentle opening thrust. Her mound of golden curls clashed with his own in a contact of similarly coloured hair.
He established a slow but steady pace, thrusting inside her as he had done dozens of times before. Jaime's good hand emerged to stroke lovingly at Cersei's face and saw her own eyes were bright and sparkling. Their lips met each other as their bodies merged lewdly below in carnal bliss.
Jaime let himself explore Cersei's mouth for a moment in the kiss before letting his head descend. He took one of her pink nipple in his mouth and sucked even as he continued to thrust inside her. Cersei's hands snaked around Jaime's back in reply, drawing him forward into her and leaving red marks along his skin.
Eventually, Cersei began to rock back against his thrusts. "Jaime…" she said achingly, pleadingly. "I want you to be in me forever…I feel so whole…"
Jaime gave a particularly brutal thrust in reply, causing Cersei's words to trail off into a moan. He continued this missionary position for several minutes longer, dutifully ploughing into Cersei as the Queen Regent shuddered in pleasure. Then he suddenly felt the sensations he knew all too well.
He suddenly slowed his efforts. Cersei's eyes, which had been closed in rapture, suddenly flew open. "What's wrong?"
"I'm close." Slowly, Jaime drew out of her and drew forth his hand to pump along his own length in preparation. Cersei's eyes peered downwards at it with no shortage of excitement.
"Stay inside me, Jaime," Cersei said. She was breathing heavily, her ample bosom rising and falling.
"Cersei, it's too dangerous…"
"I don't care."
Cersei rolled her legs upwards to turn Jaime onto his back. Jaime's arms flew upwards to try to do the same to her but she latched on with all her strength, pushing them downwards temporarily.
Looking like some goddess, Cersei rose nude and lovely atop her brother and lover. Jaime, on his back, got a glorious view of the exquisite Queen Regent looming above. Her body was a marvel to see even after all this time.
Cersei's breasts bounced forward against the force of gravity, her lovely female form draped over him. Her two legs stretched to each side as she braced herself upon his prone form. The blonde woman's naked body shone in the low lamplight, amplifying the intensity of the experience, with her arms still lowered to hold Jaime in place.
Jaime struggled, but feebly. He knew he could have broken free of his sister's grip if he truly desired it but some part of him was struggling against him too. He couldn't seem to think and put up a fight against both her and the fierceness of his desires within him.
A part of him wanted this, but his voice spoke differently. "Cersei, we can't-"
"We can." Cersei peered downwards to his erect cock still glistening from its recent stay inside of her. Slowly, she lined herself up upon him anew and met his eyes with her own. "And we will."
Then she let herself fall upon him again.
Both cried out at that and Cersei felt filled again in the way she had wanted for so long. She smiled wickedly down at Jaime and reflected on the power of her position upon him which amplified the sensual effect.
"Cersei!" Jaime cried out as Cersei rocked upon him. "I can't...hold on…"
"Oh Jaime!" Cersei said, riding him as hard as any horse, sheathing herself again and again upon his length. "...so…good…"
Jaime grunted, losing control despite knowing the consequences. He tried every trick he knew to hold himself back but Cersei continued unabated. She was all too aware of how close he was, but she simply didn't care. The lovely blonde bounced upon Jaime again and again, her breasts shifting, crying out her pleasure as her once finely arrayed hair was sent into a tangle of blonde locks.
Jaime cast one more look at Cersei, eyes travelling up the slim form to the breasts and their painfully erect pink nipples. Then his eyes rose to her lovely features that met his stare. Green eyes met green and Jaime felt a surge inside his body at the eye contact.
His body was still fighting itself and its carnal desires even as he tried to resist Cersei and what he knew she wanted. "...no…" His arms strained against hers weakly one last time and felt themselves locked in place.
He made one last attempt to draw himself out of Cersei. The blonde queen regent replied by forcing herself forwards and brutally sheathing herself once more on him. There seemed to be no escape, and some distant part of Jaime was pleased, excited and stimulated for the fact she wanted him so much.
"Cersei…no…"
"Yes…Jaime…" Cersei moaned. "Give me…all…of you…oh…yesssss…"
Jaime brought himself upwards in one last ditch attempt. He had hoped that it would limit the amount of penetration. Instead it brought him endearingly into her bouncing breasts and appealing form, and Cersei wrapped her arms around him, constricting him and locking herself even closer against him.
There was no more will to resist. No more strength to hold back the titanic pleasure that awaited. Jaime cried out one last time, uselessly.
Where their two bodies were lewdly merged, his cock began to surge. Hot jets of Jaime's seed began to spurt deeply inside Cersei's welcoming pussy. The blonde queen regent moaned as she felt the renewed fierceness of his ejaculation, savouring the sensations of warm liquid squirting up inside her.
Cersei's body contorted at the lewd experience, her voice crying out loudly as she shuddered in her own orgasm. At that, she began to constrict even tighter around Jaime as he continued to expel himself inside her. The former queen unrelentingly rode out her pleasure upon him, body shaking in rapture, her arms still wrapped firmly around her lover.
Jaime had no words but a deep, guttural groan. He could feel himself, despite all his efforts, firing more of his seed inside Cersei. There was absolutely no resistance from the Queen Regent, whose body had fallen forward after her own orgasm but her legs remained locked upon him.
Her mouth opened. "Yes brother," Cersei panted. "I want all you have to have to give. More..."
They were nearing the end now. Jaime could feel the moisture around his cock of their combined fluids where they were joined. Cersei was still rising and falling along him but without rhythm now, long hair askew, green eyes unfocused. It seemed more of an automatic maneuver than anything now.
At length she finally stopped. Both were panting, Cersei's arms still locking their bodies together. For a moment, she endured atop him, her usually fierce eyes now suddenly docile in the aftermath of the experience.
For his own part, Jaime lay newly docile beneath him, his once taut form now completely slack. His own eyes were open and distant.
"Wasn't that good?" Cersei said quietly down to her brother, her legs still wrapped around him, her form newly motionless and still resplendently nude.
Jaime's eyes opened at that, tired and strangely discontent. Then he looked up to her and his expression seemed to clear a bit at the sight.
"I love you, Cersei," he said. Slowly he drew his arms up to her and kissed her fiercely until both eventually fell aside from each other towards sleep.
Tommen was different this morning.
A mother knows these things of her son, Cersei reflected as she peered closely at him. The King of the Seven Kingdoms, the Rhoynar, and the First Men was passively sitting at his breakfast table. His cat was close by as ever, moving in for a pet one moment and then patrolling around their legs the next. It was a wretchedly fluffy furball that always served to inflict cat hair upon her elaborate gowns.
Tommen was being too quiet, not bubbling with his usual youthful enthusiasm. Frequently the green eyes she had bestowed him with would go distant as if to ponder some memory, so often he seemed more in the past than the present.
"Tommen."
Cersei said the name softly to see if it would be enough to break him out his reverie.
It wasn't. Tommen still looked distantly down at the costly Myrish rug without truly seeing it.
"Tommen!" Cersei made the name a whip crack this time.
The king jumped and turned his gaze hastily to hers. "Yes, Mother?"
The Queen Regent gave a sigh. "You've been staring at that rug for five minutes now. It really isn't that beautiful."
"Is there something else on your mind?"
Tommen coloured, unleashing red upon his cheeks. "No," he said too quickly.
Cersei studied him imperiously.
"You know what happens when you lie to me," she said ominously.
Tommen squirmed uncomfortably. "I'm not lying."
"Yes you are." Cersei's voice went cold. "Now you dare to pile lie onto lie. I am going to send for Pate and you will whip him ten times yourself unless you start telling me the truth."
"No, Mother, I…" Tommen's voice trailed and his mediocre resistance broke. "It's Margaery."
Cersei's gut went cold at the name. "What about her?"
Tommen went, if possible, even redder. "Last night, we, we…"
With only that Cersei's gut went from cold to a blazing furious anger toward the Tyrell girl. Margaery had ignored her warning and taken her son's innocence.
Tommen was still grasping for words, his features flushed. Cersei didn't need to hear the, for she well aware of what had happened by then.
"Stay here and finish your breakfast," Cersei ordered. She stood to address the numerous guards that were around the king night and day.
Jaime, of course, was not among them. He was much too tired after last night, she noted with a smug satisfaction. Granted, she had lost control of herself as well and some moon tea would be in order, but it had been worth it.
Silver days and golden nights…
Now she had someone to visit though, and this arrival promised to much less pleasant in nature.
Cersei walked determinedly forth through the Red Keep's hallways flanked by a pair of Kingsguard, Ser Boros and Ser Meryn. Both had proven themselves to be adequately biddable creatures to her will.
Her heart was racing and Cersei knew she was walking faster than she should have been. The cause was the rage coursing within her as she passed unconcernedly by a number of members of court.
When she eventually arrived, she found another member of the Kingsguard guarding the door to her destination, and predictably it was the Knight of Flowers.
Loras Tyrell was a comely man, full of a youthful vigor and a confidence to match his undeniable martial prowess. The way he shone next to the doorway in his white armour made him seem far greater than either of the white brothers that flanked her. His hair was a collection of brown curls, his eyes so much like his sister's that it made Cersei feel a new surge of rage within her at the sight.
Those eyes came up to meet them and the boy tensed noticeably at the sight of her approach.
"Ser Loras," Cersei said stiffly. "I have come to visit your sister. I would meet with her in private."
She spoke the words with all the authority she could, but still Loras hesitated. It was easy to tell how discomfited he was at the situation.
"Very well, Your Grace," Loras said at length, doubt still evident upon his face. "I will lead you to her."
Together they passed through the doors to behold the new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
It was curious that Margaery had decided not to stay with the King for breakfast. Instead she had deigned to break her fast with her brother and the nest of hens who ever surrounded her.
"Cersei!" Margaery's eyes fastened swiftly upon her arrival, betraying none of the nervousness that might've been expected of her. She rose to greet Cersei, sweeping around the table in a bold maneuver.
Cersei had no choice but to embrace the new Queen, despite knowing how stiffly she did so. Dimly she noted Margaery's pleasant scent and the way the soft brown curls she shared with her brother tickled at her skin.
Margaery was shorter than Cersei but the way she looked so fearlessly upward minimized these physical shortcomings.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I would speak to you alone…good daughter," Cersei said. Everyone in the room heard the hesitation and a few of the audience's expressions flickered. No doubt at least a few had the awareness or intelligence to pick up the tension between the two Queens of past and present.
"Of course." Margaery was fearless, Cersei had to give her that. "Please let us talk privately, dear guests. We will share a lovely lunch together in recompense, I promise."
The guests began to depart, but Cersei had eyes only for the Knight of Flowers. Cersei might not be able to see through Margaery's emotions but Loras was always easier to read, as hot-tempered as he was.
He was casting a concerned brown-eyed stare at her sister who returned a confident smile. "Thank you, brother," Margaery said. "Do me the favour of waiting without."
The Tyrell boy regarded his sister with some concern before nodding with obvious reluctance. Still taut he strode out last of all the guests and closed the doors of the room behind them.
Cersei waited a few seconds longer to be safe. The window provided a view just as glorious as during breakfast earlier; the sunlight was streaming in behind Margaery. It made the new Tyrell Queen look almost ethereal and harder to see.
"Why are you here, Cersei?" Margaery's tone had not changed, but the way she addressed the new queen regent by her first name showed a lack of respect here in private.
Their animosity seemed to grow only deeper with each passing day.
"Tommen," Cersei bit off. "My son. You-"
"Ah yes, Tommen." Margaery came forward a few steps towards Cersei, still shrouded in sunlight. "He is such a good boy; he must take more after his father."
Margaery's bald irreverence broke through whatever remained of Cersei's weakening control. She had barely maintained herself up this point and now, full of wrath, she closed the remaining distance between them and brought her hand forward in a slap.
The new Queen slid aside with surprising grace from the blow, a movement bearing similarities to Loras' own deftness in the yard. Cersei was surprised at how easily she had been avoided as Margaery's once placid expression vanished.
"I will give you only that one," Margaery said in a tone much colder than Cersei had ever heard from her. She had escaped back into a darker corner of the room and escaped the glow of the sun. "I understand how you can be emotional under these circumstances."
"Emotional?" Cersei had to restrain herself from screaming the word, aware of how there were always those listening in the Red Keep. However, her voice did rise dramatically.
"I warned you not to touch my son. You were to sleep in the same bed as husband and wife, nothing more."
"You wheedled a confession out of poor Tommen, did you?" Margaery replied evenly. "I am not surprised. I assure you, I made him feel as comfortable as anyone could ask for during their first time."
"You seduced him, you bitch." Cersei's voice was carefully low but full of rage.
"Oh yes." Margaery gave her a supremely unconcerned smile that only infuriated Cersei further. "I assure you we only did what he wanted, and apparently that was to seed my womb. Perhaps even now I already bear the future heir to the Seven Kingdoms within me, your very own grandson."
"I should-"
"What?" Margaery interrupted in a tone that was suddenly harsh. "What are you going to do, Cersei? Have me executed? Hire a killer? Banish or exile me?"
Cersei didn't know how to reply.
"You have no such power," Margaery continued. "You can have all the pride and anger you want but you still do not dare to touch me. Your choice to come here was foolish, for nothing can come of it."
"I have been at court for many years," Cersei said in a tenuous tone. "I waited my turn to be queen and I have not worked for so long to be displaced by your likes."
"Your time is past," Margaery answered. "You look tired, Cersei. It must be increasingly difficult for you to restrain the signs of your age."
Cersei tensed but she somehow kept herself under control, although this restraint cost her the opportunity to reply.
"Now that you are finished giving your empty threats, is that all?" Margaery said conclusively. "After all, I must meet with the king. Given how well last night went maybe he will want to try again."
Cersei couldn't restrain herself any further at these words. She swept forth to bring her sleeved hand in another strike at Margaery. The Tyrell girl sought to avoid by sliding aside but Cersei had compensated this time and brought her other hand up.
However, Margaery had likewise not limited herself in an attempt to dodge. Instead she had also responded with a slap of her own and the two struck the other at the same time.
Both women reeled from their respective blows. Each of their respectively lovely features abruptly took on expression of pains, bringing their hands up to touch at their faces.
For a moment, they both looked blankly at the other, their hands still raised upwards. Eventually, their mouths opened simultaneously to utter the same words in a chorus.
"You hit me!"
Then Cersei, her rage fully realized and uninhibited, drove herself towards her rival in an abrupt, distinctly undignified bull rush.
Margaery met the blow square and together the two Queens hit the floor. Cersei was on top but Margaery struggled hard to escape out of her grasp, their hands grasping at each other. Their respective fine dresses were sent into disarray by the scrum.
Cersei was older though, taller and stronger. The force of her charge had taken Margaery seemingly unawares, although she continued to wiggle in attempts at escape.
Both could have screamed for help and had the Kingsguard arrive in an instant.
Neither did so, even Margaery, pinned beneath Cersei as she was, at an obvious disadvantage.
"What will you do now, Cersei?" Margaery's eyes were cast upward, arms held in place, her breasts rising and falling rapidly after their exertions.
Cersei looked downwards, anger still coursing through her. "You've defiled my son and threaten to displace me. You seem so sure I cannot harm you, but I would not be so in your place."
"You may have triumphed here, but we both know you cannot kill me." Margaery looked upwards, a little diminished but still defiant. "Let me up, Cersei."
Despite Margaery's continuing resistance, Cersei exulted at her position of power atop the Tyrell girl. Her rival was at her mercy now, after all the politics and shadowplays, at long last.
This must be what Jaime felt like on the battlefield. To conquer enemies and see them cast beneath your feet, to exult in the glory of victory.
Cersei wondered if it was like this for men in the bedchamber as well, to pin a beautiful woman beneath you and make them completely at your mercy. To plumb her deaths as she moaned, to conquer her by sheathing yourself over and over inside her...
Margaery was still looking upwards expectantly.
"No," Cersei said resolvedly.
Margaery's certainty suddenly slid off her face at that one little word. She didn't seem to have considered the prospect of refusal.
"What?"
"No," Cersei repeated, keeping Margaery pinned below her. "You must at least be taught a…lesson."
Cersei took a bit of pride in seeing the flash of fear through Margaery's brown eyes at the prospect.
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Making a Man and a Queen