GOT: A Transmigrator's Conquest

Queen Cersei stood near the window, her arms crossed as she looked out at the darkened courtyard of the Red Keep. Her expression was unusually grave, and even the faint lines around her beautiful eyes, betrayed the uncertainty she was feeling.

Across the room, Jaime Lannister leaned against the wall, standing casually, with his face displaying irritation and frustration. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, while constantly tapping his fingers on it, clearly indicating his impatience.

Their conversation was taking place in whispers, their voices barely rising above the sizzling fire in the fireplace.

"You should have let me end that boy before," Jaime spoke.

Cersei turned sharply to glare at him. "And what? Make Robert's already unstable reign even more precarious by killing his precious son? Have you completely lost your wits?"

She seemed to be even more frustrated then Jaime, but she kept it low. "The first thing he would suspect would be us. Do you really think he would have cared about explanations before cutting us down? He would have slaughtered us both and only then wondered why."

Jaime stopped tapping his sword, his jaw tightening. "And what do you think my sword is for?" he countered, stepping closer to her. "If it came to that, I could handle him. Handle anyone."

Cersei couldn't understand why he was being so adamant today. "And what about the Kingsguard, Jaime? Do you think they'd stand aside while you murdered their king? Or has your arrogance grown so large you believe even you can take on half the Red Keep?"

Jaime smiled, though his annoyance remained. "Ser Selmy?" he scoffed. "The Mountain and rest would have made short work of him."

Cersei couldn't help but massage her forehead as talking with Jaime was definitely giving her a major headache.

"And after that?" she asked, her voice soft but deadly. "When we've lost half our strength dealing with the Baratheons and the Starks? Do you think the other houses would sit idly by? Or would they seize the opportunity to tear us apart? And what of the Targaryens?"

Jaime's smile faded but the arrogance and defiance on his face remained untouched. He ran a hand through his golden hair and stepped back, pacing the room with restless energy. "You think too much about tomorrow and not enough about today, Cersei," he muttered.

"And you think too little about the long term," Cersei shot back, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "If we're to survive—if Joffrey is to sit the Iron Throne—we can't afford to act recklessly. Not now."

Jaime stopped pacing and turned to face her. "And then what?" he asked, his voice quieter but no less frustrated. "What's your grand plan, then? That boy is going to Winterfell, far away from your influence. He'll grow stronger, smarter, and when the time comes, he might just claim the throne for himself after Robert drinks himself to death. What then, Cersei? How do you plan to stop him?"

Cersei didn't respond immediately. She turned back to the window, her gaze distant, her mind racing. This was what she was worried about the most and she didn't have any solution at her hand. Finally, she sighed, the sound heavy with resignation.

"The kingdom is already on the brink of chaos," she said, her voice softer now. "We can't afford to act against the boy. Not yet. Killing him now would only hasten our downfall. As much as Robert trusts me with how I've treated his son, that trust has limits. If anything were to happen to Stannon, Robert would burn the Seven Kingdoms looking for answers—and we'd be the first suspects."

Jaime crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, watching her carefully. "So we do nothing?" he asked, his tone incredulous. "We just let him grow stronger? Let him become a threat we can't control?"

Cersei turned to face him, her expression hardening. "The time will come," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions behind it. "The time will come when both father and son will fall. And when that day comes, Joffrey will take his rightful place on the throne. He will rule the Seven Kingdoms as he was always meant to."

Jaime shook his head, as he thought that his sister was being too hopeful "You sound so certain," he said, his voice clearly filled with mockery and skepticism. "But certainty doesn't win wars, Cersei."

"No," she agreed, stepping closer to him. "But patience does. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that patience is the deadliest weapon of all."

Jaime stared at her for a moment, his frustration slowly fading away as lust started to take over him after staring at her beautiful lips. But he tried to tame it down as the fat king was in the castle and thinking with his d*ck would definitely cause huge problems for both him and Cersei. 

'I don't understand how the fat pig couldn't fall in love with her,' Jaime thought as he couldn't stop staring at her.

'Maybe he's too busy drinking and wouldn't notice us...' He wondered as the lust started to take control over his mind.

Cersei seemed to notice the heat in Jaime's eyes and sternly spoke, "Not now."

Jaime sighed at that. He knew better than to argue further. He rolled his eyes and turned away, heading for the door.

"Just don't let your grand plans get us both killed," he muttered.

As the door closed behind him, Cersei returned to the window, her hands gripping the stone ledge tightly. Her thoughts returned to Stannon, the boy who could one day threaten everything she had built. She didn't trust him, no matter how innocent he seemed now. The child had Robert's blood, and that made him dangerous.

But for now, she would wait. And when the time came, she would strike.

---

Jaime walked down the dark hallway, his footsteps echoing off the stone floor as he left Cersei's chambers both frustrated and aroused. Cersei's words stayed with him, but he shook them off with a sneer. 'You're too afraid of that fat king,' he thought. 'If you won't do anything, I will. That kid can't be allowed to live any longer.'

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