The Unyielding Stag (Game of Thrones AU/Invincible)
Chapter 13: Coronation

A/N: The coronation through the eyes of one of Axel's enemies~

-x-X-x-

"We stand here today in the Great Sept of Baelor to see a new King crowned."

It takes every fiber of her being not to throw a fit right then and there. This whole coronation was a ridiculous farce. It should have been her Joffrey up there. Failing that, it should have been Tommen. And failing THAT, it should have been Myrcella. Never mind the line of succession, better her Myrcella than another fucking Baratheon.

… This was the second coronation that Cersei Lannister had attended in her life. The first one had been Robert's. She'd been younger then, so much younger… and so much more excited for what her future held. After all, Robert Baratheon immediately after the rebellion had still been a handsome man and a renowned warrior.

He was no Rhaegar of course, but he had seemed like a good match all the same. Her father had promised her Rhaegar when she was even younger still, but given that the man was dead, Cersei had magnanimously decided not to hold it against him. After all, she was still going to be Queen and marrying Rhaegar's killer wasn't a half-bad consolation prize.

… Or so she'd thought. Oh what a fool she'd been. Robert had turned out to be a failure in every way that mattered. A failure of a king, a failure of a husband, and a failure of a father. And now here Cersei was, having to watch his bastard be crowned by the High Septon when it should have been one of her sons standing in his place.

"Many are the perils that tried to stand between him and this moment."

Of course, even as the High Septon drones on, Cersei reflects that if either of her sons were still alive, they wouldn't be coronated here of all places. The Great Sept was for Royal Weddings, NOT coronations. Coronations were supposed to take place in the Red Keep before the Iron Throne. The High Septon was supposed to come to the new King, not the other way around.

But apparently Robert's bastard was pious to a fault. He'd specifically asked for the coronation to take place in the Great Sept, citing his Faith and the fact that the Seven must have been watching over him as reasons why he simply had to be crowned beneath their gaze in the place of their worship.

As such, the towering statues of the Seven surround them on all sides while the Great Sept is packed to the brim with nobility and the Most Devout.

Ugh, it was enough to make her sick. It was enough to make her want to rage at the injustice and unfairness of it all.

"Yet here he remains all the same."

Though at the same time, she had so many damn questions. Like how HAD he survived the Strangler? It would have been one thing if he'd simply avoided the poison in some way, perhaps with Jon Arryn employing a taste tester as a sensible precaution or the like.

But no. The stories out of the Eyrie, as outlandish as they might be, were quite clear and all surprisingly uniform. Robert's bastard definitely ate the poisoned meat pie. It had an understated but universally agreed upon effect on the young man. And then in front of the entire hall, her assassin had also eaten some of the pie and it had killed him in less than a minute, as the Strangler was supposed to!

The man she'd hired to poison Axel Stone was a smart one. Killing himself so she couldn't get to him and punish him for his failure… he'd made the right move. Obviously, she wouldn't have let him off lightly after he'd failed so spectacularly, whether Robert's bastard was somehow immune or not.

"May the Warrior grant him courage and protect him in these perilous times."

Her breath hitches and Cersei barely contains her flinch at the mention of the Warrior. It wouldn't be good to react too strongly, given that she and Myrcella were placed in the front row of this coronation, effectively being used as trophies in the wake of Renly's defection and treachery.

In her mind's eye, for as long as Cersei could remember, she'd likened some of the Seven to people in her life. The Father was her father, the Mother was her mother and she was the Maiden. The Crone, of course, was that damnable witch from the woods.

Meanwhile, the Warrior… the Warrior was her brother. Her twin. Her other half. Even now his loss ate at her. She hadn't wanted to believe it when the news first reached her. Jaime? Dead? It wasn't possible. Even when she saw the body, she felt like she couldn't trust her own eyes. And yet… it was him.

More than that, they claimed he did the deed himself. That he took his own life. There was just no way, but none of Cersei's attempts at investigating had turned up answers. She couldn't figure out who had murdered her brother, but the thought of him committing suicide just didn't make sense.

And yet… he was dead and she was still alive and it… it didn't feel real even now. How could one side of the same coin perish while the other side persisted? Shouldn't she have been struck down the moment he drew his final breath?

But no. The real world wasn't nearly so romantic. Jaime was gone and Cersei continued to exist and that was all there was to it.

"May the Father show him the most just and righteous path forward through the early days of his reign."

Well, not all there was to it. There was still the matter of revenge. It mattered little whether or not truly Jaime took his own life. Even if he had, his death was still something that had to be avenged. A Lannister always paid their debts and the only way Cersei knew to do so was to double down and kill the Baratheons who had caused her family so much grief and heartbreak in such a short time.

Alas, Renly had inadvertently escaped the noose when he'd fled in the wake of his failed treachery. It was almost enough to make Cersei laugh, thinking about it now. She had it all planned out. Commander Slynt and his Goldcloaks had been paid off. Her Lannister men had been ready to raid Renly's quarters and do away with him. And if they killed the Knight of the Flowers while they were at it, so be it. A simple sacrifice all things considered.

… But then the sword swallower had fled! Her men had reported back hastily emptied chambers and no sign of Renly. She'd reacted swiftly, having the city shut down on her orders, but to no avail. By the next morning, Cersei had learned that the Baratheon Lord and all of his men had managed to flee the city just before she'd sent the order for them to take his head!

At the time, Cersei had been infuriated that her prey had escaped her grasp. She'd raged at how he'd somehow found out about her plans. Only later had she learned the truth. Renly didn't even know Cersei was aiming to end his miserable life. No, he hadn't been running from her… he'd been running from his own nephew.

"… and may the Smith grant him the strength he needs to carry the heavy burden of leadership."

It seemed Cersei wasn't the only one that wanted Robert's bastard dead. Renly had designs on the crown and thought to remove Jon Arryn and his charge from the board so that he could usurp the Iron Throne from Stannis. Given how little love was lost between Stannis and the rest of Westeros, and the fact that he'd happened to be out of the city when Robert died, it wasn't a half bad plot.

Truth be told, Cersei wished Renly's plot had succeeded where hers failed. Alas, it seemed that Axel Stone had the same luck as his damn father if he was able to survive so many attempts on his life in such a short amount of time. After all, if Renly's plan to kill Axel had worked, then he wouldn't have fled King's Landing when he did and Cersei's plan to kill him in turn would have gone off without a hitch.

From there, the only other man who she would have had to kill was Stannis Baratheon and her vengeance would have been complete.

But no, Renly was too incompetent. He clearly didn't send enough of his men. And now… now he had fled to the Stormlands and nobody knew what he was going to do next. Cersei couldn't imagine that the Storm Lords would stay loyal to him once word of his treachery reached their ears from King's Landing. He would have to spin quite the fanciful yarn to explain away his base treachery.

All the while, Jon Arryn and Axel Stone managed to slip into King's Landing despite Cersei's orders for the city to be sealed. And once the Hand of the King was officially back with Robert's blasted heir at his side, there was no stopping any of this, as much as she might have wanted to.

"In the Light of the Seven, I now proclaim Axel of the House Baratheon, First of His Name to be King of the Andals and the First Men and Lord Protector of the Seven Kingdoms! Long may he reign!"

"""LONG MAY HE REIGN!"""

Cersei, of course, calls out with the rest of them even as Myrcella stammers out the words at her side. Her daughter has seen better days and Cersei wishes she had more time to spend with the last of her children, truly she does.

… But as she watches the crown be placed down upon the brow of Robert's bastard, Cersei knows that she doesn't have that luxury. Not in the slightest.

She could still make this work, after all. Axel 'Baratheon' was as handsome as his father had been back in the day. He was also, as the reports said, far more polite and mild mannered than Robert ever was, despite sharing Robert's size and past stature.

There was no doubt in Cersei's mind that Axel's good looks and calm attitude would rally the people of King's Landing and the Crownlands to his side. Meanwhile, Jon Arryn's place as his Hand would ultimately cause the other realms to fall into line as well.

But Renly… Renly wouldn't give up so easily, or so Cersei hoped. If he told the right lies, maybe he would even turn the Stormlands against their new King. She wasn't holding her breath, but at the same time, she was watching carefully to see what happened next.

After all, if she could get the Baratheons to war with one another, then that would help her out quite a bit in her plans for revenge. Axel could kill Renly or Renly could kill Axel, she didn't care which. And then Stannis could be brought in perhaps to kill the other one or be killed in turn.

Finally, whichever of the three was left would die by Cersei's hand… or at least the hands of one of her men. A perfect ending to the male line of House Baratheon.

Of course, she couldn't make sure diplomacy failed and war was inevitable from the safety of Casterly Rock, now could she? Which was why, as unfortunate as it was… she'd ignored her father's letter when it finally arrived yesterday.

The Lord Paramount of the Westerlands had bade her to return home and even told her to smuggle Myrcella out of King's Landing with her if she could. Jaime's death seemed to have shaken him quite badly because the Tywin Lannister that Cersei had grown up fearing would never make such a politically disadvantageous move.

No, this Tywin… he was scared, Cersei could tell. He wanted her to flee King's Landing and to bring her daughter, the Princess, with her. For what? Their protection? Their safekeeping? Cersei knew better. Their new King would never let her or Myrcella go that easily. Better to not even try so as to not invoke any suspicion.

No… Cersei needed to find the right opportunity to whisper into the new King's ear. She needed him indebted to her. The exact way she was going to pull this off, Cersei didn't fully know yet. After all, just days before she wanted him dead more than anything in the whole world.

She still did wants him dead of course, but not before she's wrung every last drop of use out of him first. There was a lot Cersei could do with a more mild-mannered version of Robert Baratheon. An awful lot.

With the coronation complete, everyone begins the long trek back to the Red Keep. Normally, were the coronation to take place in front of the Iron Throne as it should have, they could have simply started the festivities right then and there while everyone paid their respects to the new King.

Instead they are all forced to make their way back through the city first. Cersei and Myrcella have their own carriage, at least, where they have a moment of time to themselves. Offering her daughter a smile, Cersei glances out the window at all the watching smallfolk.

"You did well today, Myrcella."

"… T-Thank you, mother."

Cersei sighs.

"Almost over now. We'll be at the front of the line to bow and pay our respects to the new King once we get back to the throne room. Then, if you would like, you may retire to your rooms early."

Myrcella jolts at this, before ducking her head.

"… Yes. I would appreciate that very much."

Much too timid. But to be fair, Cersei couldn't really blame her. Her poor daughter had lost… so much in such a short period of time. And now some stranger sat his ass upon the Iron Throne. She was still a Princess, still Myrcella Baratheon… but her position at this point was questionable all the same.

Hm. All the more reason to get the ear of their new King as quickly as possible, Cersei supposed. For all that she wanted him dead, she still needed to keep Myrcella safe from him or his uncles until every last one of them was in the ground.

With that in mind, Cersei reaches up and loosens the top of her dress a little bit, letting out a heavy sigh when Myrcella glances over at her curiously.

"A hot day. And being crowded by so many people in the Great Sept didn't make it any better, did it?"

"Ah… n-no, mother."

Myrcella loosens her own dress, but unlike Cersei, when they finally arrive back at the Red Keep, she makes sure to fix up her appearance before leaving the carriage. Cersei… does not. Instead, she leaves traces of her cleavage showing, even as she walks with regal purpose alongside her last living offspring into the Red Keep.

As she'd told Myrcella, they are among the first to pay their respects to the new King. In fact, as the Queen and Princess, they ARE the first. The Small Council will come after them, but at this point, Cersei and Myrcella are the highest ranking nobility in the city aside from their new King.

Once young Axel has taken his seat upon the Iron Throne and Jon Arryn has taken his place at his side as Hand of the King, Cersei makes her way forward, walking up the steps until she's standing right in front of Robert's bastard.

Meeting his eyes, the Queen bows low and makes sure he gets a hint of a view as she does so. Skilled as Cersei is, she's not sure even Lord Arryn notices what she's done, but from the flash of recognition and interest in Axel's eyes, she knows that their new King has.

Giving him an ever so slight smile, Cersei rises to her feet and steps to the side. Behind her, Myrcella mimics her actions much more jerkily before quickly joining her. Cersei sends her off to her quarters with orders for the Lannister man accompanying her to retrieve food from the kitchens for the Princess once she's safely back in her rooms.

But Cersei… Cersei lingers and watches as the tired and sad remains of the Small Council in the form of Varys and Baelish pay their respects next, followed by all of the nobility currently residing within King's Landing.

Cersei watches all of them with her head held high and the poise, grace, and bearing of a Queen. She knows how they see her, of course. She's merely a prize at this point. No longer truly the Queen since Robert died, and not even the mother to the new King.

If it weren't for the name 'Lannister', she would be nobody to them, likely set aside and forgotten about. But because she is of House Lannister, she is a trophy, an interesting thing to look at as she haunts the new King's Court like a ghost.

But that's exactly what Cersei wants them all to think. Let them underestimate her. Let them disregard her.

And most of all… let the games begin.

-x-X-x-

A/N: Cersei is going to fuck around and find out, lmao.

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