Stephen Baratheon POV
He flew through the clouded night sky for over two hours before finally reaching his destination.
Casterly Rock was not a castle. Not really. It was more of a giant fucking mountain, which had hollowed out from within and turned into some Lord of the Rings dwarf fortress like shit.
A single look at it, and he could see why Rhaenys had said that if the Lannisters had kept themselves hidden inside Casterly Rock, then their Dragons couldn't have done anything about them 'personally'.
An ironic statement, considering what that dragon had done to those dwarves in the Hobbit movie.
As he approached the castle, he kept an eye on his Company Device. At his Exit Stage Left App, to be more exact.
The app went from from 75% to 76% completion as soon as he landed on top of the mountain. He still wasn't technically inside the castle, but just standing atop it supposedly counted as Visiting Casterly Rock.
He stood atop it for a moment, just enjoying the scenery, before he activated his Create ID and went inside his Empty ID.
Then he flew down the mountain until his eyes caught sight of holes within the castle. Holes that served as windows for the inhabitants within the fortress.
He broke the iron bars with ease and entered through one of those windows. As soon as he did, he found himself in a rather luxurious room. It was large, opulent, filled with beautiful decorations, and more brightly lit than he would've thought that a place like this would be.
He used Observe on the room and found that it belonged to one of the Lannister cousins.
For people who were living in what supposedly counts as hollowed out mines, these people were really living the life, weren't they.
Since he was in the Empty Id, there was no one in this room, or in this entire castle for that matter, so he boldly shattered the door with a Mana Arrow and strode out of the room.
He was immediately faced with two long hallways going left and right, which then split into two more hallways after a certain point.
Man… it seems like Tyrion wasn't exaggerating when he said that Casterly Rock was a labyrinth for those who didn't know how to navigate it.
Regardless, he had a decent idea of where to go. To one of the top floors in the castle. So that's what he did. He flew around the castle until he eventually found a lyong stairway that went up into the mountain.
From there, he used a copious amount of Observe, until he found a room that belonged to none other than Genna Lannister. Tywin's own dear little sister.
Or not so dear anymore once she took Tyrion's side against Tywin.
Regardless, once he found Genna's room, it didn't take him long to find Tywin's room.
He went inside the bedroom and found himself in what he could only call a Royal apartment.
Even the royal chambers in the Red Keep, belonging to King Robert and Queen Cersei, paled in comparison to the sheer wealth and grandeur displayed here.
No wonder Cersei didn't like the Red Keep all that much. Who would, once they've been given a taste of 'this'.
The Chamber had a large bedroom, a small pool filled with clean water, a dining room, an office, a library, a balcony (inside a fucking mountain), and even a privy that seemed to work in a similar manner to the toilet seat in his past world.
And did he say that almost all the items displayed in this place were either made of gold, or of were such high quality and rarity, that they might as well have been made of gold.
Man, fuck Red Keep, and fuck Dragonstone. This is where it's at.
All jokes aside, after taking a brief tour of the castle for a while, he finally hid in a corner, using his Glamour magic to camouflage himself in the dark, before he finally used Escape ID and came back to the real world.
He apparently didn't need to take these many precautions since Tywin was the only person in these chambers, and he was currently fast asleep.
He moved toward the sleeping form of the old Lion and paused as he took a sniff of the air and took in the scent of cheap perfume and… sex.
Huh… it seems that for all of Tywin's disapproval for Tyrion's behaviour, the old lion couldn't help himself from partaking either.
He didn't even know why that fact surprised him so much, considering that Tywin had fucked Shae in the books and in the show before Tyrion finally put an end to both of them.
Regardless, he silently tip toed his way toward the old lion before he used an Ariel sleeping drug to put Tywin in a deeper sleep.
Once that had happened, he created a tiny bit of biomass in the palm of his hand and then turned it into highly toxic venom. A venom created by a snake that can only be found in Dorne.
He created a few drops of that venom, enough to put down a few elephants and then dropped it inside Tywin's mouth.
His earlier plan had been to kill Tywin by giving him a heart attack. But Cersei already suspects him for the health deterioration of her precious son. And now that she knows about his other powers, she might suspect him in this two.
But what if she has a more convenient someone to suspect.
He sensed Tywin's heart rate becoming erratic as the venom started doing its job before he went to the balcony and took off.
It was a pity that he couldn't sell a Valyrian Steel blade to Tywin before he ended the man's life. But it wasn't like he was hurting for money or anything.
After flying in the air for a moment, he turned in the direction of Clegane's Keep and took off.
The night was still young and he needed to take care of two more monsters to truly sell this charade and be free of any suspicion himself.
—
Two weeks later.
Tyrion Lannister POV
The sound for flesh slapping against flesh rang through the room as he smashed his hips against the beautiful Lysene whore.
The woman let out delightful moans with each one of his thrust and he could almost be convinced that she was actually enjoying his great sexual prowess, and not merely putting on an act.
He leaned down to kiss her naked back and grope her breasts.
"Oh~ my lord~" The woman said in a sing song voice as she put her own hand against his own, making him press those tits harder. "Do you like these?"
"I love these." He whispered back, his breath getting heavier and heavier as he got closer and closer to his orgasm until with one final thrust, he seeded her belly with ropes upon ropes of his cum.
The woman moaned under him, pretending to have gone through an orgasm herself and he almost scoffed.
Despite being small, he was not new to sex. In fact, he has been fucking whores for years by this point. And after all these years, he had become good enough to take a few of those women to their peaks.
He knew what a genuine orgasm looked like. And this was not it.
Though he could see how her act would fool other men.
Regardless, he was here for the sex, not for the acting, so he forgave the voluptuous woman in his mind as the both of them collapsed onto the bed and panted after that vigorous sex session.
He laid on the soft bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment before he turned to gaze at the whore besides him. "So… who owns these establishment nowadays?" He asked.
"My lord?" The whore asked, giving him a confused look. He didn't buy that look for a single moment. Despite their profession, he had long since learned not to underestimate whores.
Especially those that belong to highly expensive brothels like this one. These women were far more clever than they let on.
"You heard me." He said as he leaned toward her and appreciated the sight of her naked body. As well as the sight of his cum dripping down her womanhood. "I know that Baelish used to own this establishment before. But who owns it now?"
The woman gazed at him for a moment before she gave a sly smile. "Information like that will cost you, my lord."
"But I've already paid you so much. In fact, some would consider me to be… overly generous." He said.
The woman hummed for a moment before she nodded. "You're indeed right, my lord of Lannister. You are-" *Knock Knock Knock!*
The whore trailed off and both of them gazed at the door, and at whoever it was that ruined this wonderful post orgasmic moment for him.
He paid for 2 whole hours goddamnit. Why can't these bastards just let him be?
"Lord Tyrion! Are you inside?" Some son of a whore shouted, and his irritation spiked.
"Who is it?" He shouted back.
"My lord. The Queen has summoned you into the Red Keep."
'Tell the Queen to come here and suck my dick.' He thought, but knew better than to voice that opinion. Only his brother can say such a thing and stay with his head intact.
"Tell her I'm busy." He said and went back to gazing at the whore, who looked suitably amused by the whole encounter. "So where were we?"
"You were-" She started to speak but they were once again interrupted by the knock on the door.
"Oh you son of a-" He paused and sighed before he down from the bed. He quickly garbed himself in his clothes and opened the door.
He came face to face with a Red Cloak, who seemed young enough to be the butt of jokes in all their campfire gatherings.
"Should I explain to you, the meaning of the word 'busy'?" He asked and enjoyed the way the boy quailed under his gaze.
So not only young but a coward as well. This guy would fit right in with his cousin Lancel.
"My lord. The Queen has sent for you."
"So?" He asked. "Is the matter so urgent that it cannot wait half an hour more?"
"Um… yes my lord. The Queen said that this was an urgent matter."
He paused at that and scrutinised the Red Cloak. "She said that, did she? How come she sent for… you, if this was such an urgent matter."
The 'boy' shuffled under his scrutinising gaze and spoke up. "I… I don't know, my lord. But I think she sent many men to look for you."
"And you were the only one who thought to look for me in a brothel?" He asked. Because if this guy was the more 'intelligent' one in their group, their the Red Cloaks were doomed.
"No, my lord. The others went to the other brothels that you're known to visit every so often." The boy said and… fair enough.
"Did my dear sister tell you what this urgent matter was?" He asked and the boy shook his head. Not that he expected any differently.
"Did she look happy when she sent for me?"
The boy shook his head once again. "She looked… rather angry, my lord."
Well, that's not surprising either.
He stood silent thought for a moment about what this urgent matter could be.
He knew that their fat whoremonger King would be returning from this hunt today, along with his brother. Had something happened to either of them?
He gazed at the boy and spoke up. "Stay here. Let me get dressed and then we'll go back to my dear sister."
Within ten minutes, he had dressed up in his usual garb and he, along with the Red Cloak boy and his usual guards were traipsing through the streets of Kings Landing, toward the Red Keep when he noticed something strange.
A long line of people. And Baratheon guards lining the streets.
"What's happening over there?" He asked the young boy.
"I don't know my lord." The boy replied.
'Well, what do you even know?' He thought uncharitably. But the boy had ruined his afternoon what that lovely whore so he didn't feel too guilty about that.
He then noticed one of the Small folk quickly moving toward that area and told his guards to stop that man.
His guards did and he walked over to the small folk.
The small folk quailed at the presence of armed and armoured men and begged. "I done nothing milord."
"Calm down. I just want to ask you a few things." He said and even offered a generous silver stag to the man.
The small folk man took the silver coin shaking hands and looked at him with a new light in his eyes and then bowed to him multiple times in quick succession. "Thousand thanks, milord."
"Instead of a thousand thanks. You can thank me by informing me about what is going on over there." He said, gesturing at the place where the long line had now become even longer."And why you were going there with such urgency."
"You don' know milord?" The man asked, tilting his head in confusion.
"I wouldn't be asking if you I did."
"Ah… apologies, milord. Tis just the good Prince Stephen givin' his blessings." The man said, looking slightly jittery at how quickly the line was increasing in length now that more and more small folk were joining in on it. "Me missus is with child, milord. I need to get in the line for her an' see her blessed."
"Ah… very well. Run along then." He said and the man quickly ran off to join in on the line and gazed at it in thought.
He had heard about Stephen's blessing sessions many a times since he had arrived in Kings Landing. He had heard many tall tales about his ability to heal unfortunate people, but this was the first time he had actually seen it himself.
'The same man who refused to heal me of my dwarfism, would gladly heal some small folk nobody without any question.' He thought with mild irritation, wondering if that smug bastard would heal him if he joined in the line.
Probably not. From what he had heard, lords, and rich merchants and traders were not allowed to join in on the line.
They could get blessed of course. But those would require back door dealings and an exchange of gold, treasures or something equally as valuable.
No wonder the fake Prince (as he'd come to call Stephen Baratheon in his mind) had become so influential and so powerful in such a short period of time.
The small folk of this city might see this as an act of charity and goodwill, but he saw it for what it truly was. A way for Stephen Baratheon to win the love and respect of the people of the city.
"My lord." The Red Cloak boy said, looking at him with concern and he rolled his eyes.
"Lead the way." He said and they continued walking towards the Red Keep. And as they did, he continued to think about the fake Prince.
Despite how much the people of this city might love Stephen, he could never bring himself to trust that guy.
He might not like Cersei all that much. But he believed her when she had first claimed that Stephen was the one who had 'cursed' or did something to her son, which led to Joffrey's ill health.
He had no idea how Stephen would have even cursed Joffrey. But if a man can bless someone, then it stands to reason that he has the power to curse someone as well.
And what better person to curse than someone who stands in the way between you and the throne.
For obvious reasons though, no one else seemed to trust Cersei. Not even Jaime, whose relationship with Cersei had deteriorated for some unexplainable reason as of late.
His thought went back to the brothel he had just visited. Or the man who used to run that brothel up until a moon ago.
And then Stephen's eyes fell on poor Petyr and 'poof'. Just like Petyr, his cronies, and everything that he had built in and outside his city in his entire life, was just gone. Blown away into the wind like so much dust.
Admittedly, Petyr had been stealing an astronomical amount of wealth from the Crown's treasury. But the fact that Stephen could simply snap his fingers and vanish someone from the Small Council, with no one there to oppose him, terrified him a lot.
Stephen was a dangerous man. Someone who was extremely influential, extremely power, extremely wealthy (if his suspicions were correct), and had the ear of the King.
And despite being a nephew to his sweet sister, Stephen was no friend to House Lannister. And if the young man continued to have his way, then it won't be long before he went from to a fake prince, to a real prince.
His dark thoughts about the fake prince came to end as he finally arrived at gates of the Red Keep.
Soon after, he walked through the long hallways of Maegor's holdfast until he arrived at the Queen's Chamber, where is dear sister was waiting for him.
He opened the door and was surprised to find Jaime in the room along with Cersei. Though… something was wrong.
Jaime had a somber air about him as he sat on Cersei's bed and stared at the wall in silence, seemingly lost. While Cersei stood at the window with up and cup of win on her hand, and gazed down at the city with an uncharacteristically blank expression.
"Jaime. I see that you've returned early from the hunt." He said as he eagerly went forward to hug his brother.
Jaime's continued silence as well as the unusually firm return hug clued him in onto the fact that this was serious. Whatever 'this' was.
"Dear sister." He said and moved forward to kiss her cheeks.
The fact that she didn't insult him immediately or gave him a look that highborn ladies usually reserved for the lowest and filthiest people in Flea Bottom was the second clue that something has gone really bad.
"Why the long faces?" He asked as he sat down on one of the chairs and poured some wine for himself, his eyes never leaving his siblings. "Did something happen to King Robert during the hunt?" He asked, knowing well enough that it was not the case.
For if Robert had died, then he would've found Cersei celebrating, a smug satisfied look on her face denoting that she'd finally won, and not standing at the window like a statue carved out of granite.
When neither of his siblings answered him, he continued speaking. "Well, if you're not going to tell me, then let me make my own guesses. Has Dorne sent a fleet of ships to attack Kings Landing? The Targaryen siblings gained the allegiance of the Golden Company and has declared war on Westeros? A Dothraki Horde crossed the Narrow Sea to attack Westerosi settlements? The dragons have returned back to life? The Long Night has finally returned, along with all the bumpkins and snarks and all the-"
Cersei interrupted him by turning around and throwing her cup of wine at him. The cup, thankfully, didn't hit him, but he was splashed by some of the wine.
He took in the furious expression and Cersei's face and paused, before he took one of the wine drops splattered on his face and made a show of putting it in his mouth.
"Dear sister. No need to wait perfectly good wine." He said, knowing well enough that it was unwise to test her patience. But he could never really stop himself from needling her.
Cersei's fists clenched in return, bringing him much joy and amusement until she opened her mouth and spoke three words.
"Father is dead."
…what?