A/N: This was a fun one~

Can anyone spot all the compulsions as they happen, and then tell me what they each were, either specifically or generally? :P

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As she lays there alone in her bed for the third night in a row, Cersei Lannister flinches, struggling to hold back the tears that threaten to leave her eyes. The young noblewoman presses her lips together tightly and resolves to begin searching for a reasonable excuse that will allow her to have the Queen's chambers moved elsewhere in the Red Keep.

No woman, Queen or not, should be forced to listen through the wall as her husband, King or not, cavorts with whores in his own chambers, just one room away. It's unconscionable, and it just goes to show that Cersei… Cersei isn't sure she'll be able to do this. She was so ready to give it her all too. She was so ready to make the best of a bad situation.

She'd been promised Rhaegar and had instead had to settle for his killer. Not that Cersei had ever truly loved Rhaegar Targaryen or anything like that. The young woman had fallen in love with the idea of him… but more so with the idea of being Queen. And now, here she was, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Lyanna! Oh fuck, Lyanna!"

Cersei flinches again, and this time the tears do fall as Robert's voice reaches her through the hall. Even when he's ignoring her in favor of a whore, she still has to listen to him shout the northern bitch's name. It fills her with a hateful spite that makes her want to kill her husband. But she can't… she needs him still. House Lannister needs him.

In all fairness, Cersei had considered Aerys unfit to rule long before he'd gone mad and killed some northmen on a whim. She'd considered him mad long before most others, back when he'd rejected her father's offer of her hand in marriage to his heir, back when he'd stolen her Jaime away from her, taking her twin for his Kingsguard and away from her side.

That was around the time that Cersei had begin to hate Aerys Targaryen. But she'd still held out hope even as that sand bitch Elia Martell had become Rhaegar's wife instead. She'd held out hope even after Rhaegar stole Lyanna Stark away and set things up, igniting a civil war. Truly, what was it that both the man she'd wanted to marry, and the man she'd ended up marrying, saw in that she-bitch?

Cersei would never get a chance to find out now. She'd seen Lyanna Stark from afar once or twice at important tourneys, but they'd never even so much as chatted. And now Lyanna was dead and Cersei was Queen, and yet, at times it felt like Cersei had gotten the raw end of the deal. At least Lyanna had managed to escape the drunken, whoremongering oaf that was Robert Baratheon…

Another slam through her wall, another flinch from the young lioness as she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to tune out the sounds of Robert fucking his latest whore into the bed. She wonders if he has his hands around the whore's throat, like he did hers on their wedding night just a week past. The bruising is just beginning to fade now. Though, Cersei didn't mind the physical injuries quite as much as the shouting of his dead betrothed's name as he'd emptied his seed into her. That was the true blow to her heart.

Opening her tear-filled eyes, Cersei freezes as she abruptly realizes she's no longer alone in her chambers. There's a dark figure at the foot of her bed, a man-shaped thing that she can't quite make out at first through bleary, tear-filled eyes.

"R-Robert?"

She notes that in her internal angst, the noises from the other side of the wall have finally died down. Has Robert finished with his whore and now come for her? Cersei finds herself filled with indignation at that, ready to throw the King out of her chambers in a shrieking fit if that is the case. But then the figure coalesces a bit more, and she realizes he's leaner then her new husband, lacking the beard and with slightly longer hair then Robert can boast.

Her mouth goes dry and she licks her lips as she speaks the next name that comes to mind.

"… Jaime?"

Has her twin brother come to her in her time of need? Has Jaime come to soothe her hurts, as he'd done so long ago? A tentative smile begins to spread across her face, and Cersei sits up in her bed, propping herself up on her hands, even as the figure steps forward. She opens her mouth to tease her twin before welcoming him into her bed, only for the words to die in her throat.

It's not Jaime Lannister standing at the foot of her bed, Cersei belatedly realizes. Nor is it Robert Baratheon. Instead, impossibly… it's Vali Masters, the Emperor of New Valyria and at this point, practically all of Essos, as far as Cersei is concerned. What lies beyond Essos' eastern mountains is so far away that the young lioness can't even comprehend it as relevant or important.

However, Vali's presence in her bedroom is certainly both. Whipping herself out of her bed, Cersei picks up the first large object she can find as she eyes the Emperor of New Valyria carefully.

"You… how did you get here?!"

Vali's lips curl into a wide grin, and he cocks his head to the side, not even moving as he observes her.

"So skittish, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms… how sure are you that I AM here? Perhaps you're simply dreaming. Perhaps you're fantasizing about me, hm?"

Cersei scoffs, though he hits closer to home then she'd like. Cersei had known for a long, long time that she would be Queen. The witch in the woods had told her so. But, when news of Vali's exploits began to reach Westeros, especially his confrontations with the Targaryens and their proxies, which always ended in embarrassment and humiliation for the Royals… Cersei had, once or twice, imagined what it would be like to be Empress instead.

Was he right? Was she dreaming about the Emperor coming to whisk her away, because being Queen wasn't all it was cracked up to be? Was any of this real? Pressing her lips tightly together, Cersei settles for holding her improvised weapon with one hand and pinching herself with the other. A hiss of pain leaves her throat, prompting a chuckle from Vali as she confirms that this is indeed real, that she's awake right now.

With that awareness comes a certain level of… anger. Cersei glares the Valyrian Emperor down with all the fire of a woman who is Queen, even if she's only been Queen for a week.

"You promised Robert not to set foot in the Seven Kingdoms while his line still sat upon the Iron Throne. He told me as much. Your mere presence here could be construed as an act of war. So, I will only ask you this once before I scream… what are you doing in my bed chambers?"

Completely unconcerned, Vali chuckles as he finally moves, stepping around the bed and towards her. Cersei tenses up, but she doesn't scream, even as he prowls closer, his eyes zeroing in on hers, catching her with his gaze. He has such beautiful eyes; the young Queen finds herself absently noting…

"What do you think I'm doing, my dear? You know, I've had my way with two Princesses and a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms at this point. Elia Martell, Lyanna Stark, and Rhaella Targaryen have all felt my touch… and more importantly, my cock. But as any collector will tell you, the set is not complete without the latest piece."

Before Cersei can fully process that, he's upon her. Faster than any man has the right to be able to move, he's in front of her, tearing her only defense out of her grip and tossing her onto the bed. Her eyes widen and a squeak leaves her lips involuntarily… followed by a completely voluntary scream as he leaps atop her, pinning her down. But the Emperor of New Valyria does not cover her mouth or try to stop her in any way. Instead, as she screams for help, for the guards to come save her, he tears at her nightgown uncaringly, ripping it off of her nubile, supple figure.

"GUARDS! GUARDS! HELP ME! ANYONE!"

No one comes, even as Cersei squirms and struggles beneath the… the savage ferocity that the Emperor visits upon her. He grabs her tits with both hands and squeezes them quite roughly, causing her to sob in pain as she tosses her head back, beating against him with fists that seem to have no effect on him. Grinning down at her, still mauling her breasts, Vali gets very close, meeting her gaze evenly… and then he kisses her.

Cersei tries to pull away, even as the way he's kneading her chest suddenly begins to feel good. He's not letting up or anything like that, not becoming any gentler with her… she's just becoming accustomed to the pain. No, more than that, she's coming to like the pain, coming to like all of the things that he's doing to her, slowly but surely, reluctantly but still bit by bit.

When he ends the kiss, Vali pulls back and gives her a wicked grin.

"Scream all you like, young Queen. I've gone ahead and made sure that the denizens of the Red Keep will ignore your cries for tonight. You may call for help if you prefer… or beg me to fuck you harder at the top of your lungs as you scream my name."

And then he's flipping her over onto her front and yanking her hips up, dragging her to her hands and knees. Cersei's eyes go wide as Vali's cock pierces her depths without even a moment more of foreplay, but the few moments of him molesting and mauling her chest was enough to leave her wet and moist anyways, or at least in the starting stages of growing wet and moist.

Not that the Emperor of New Valyria cares if she's dry or not. His first few thrusts hurt, because she really isn't prepared, not for his size and certainly not for his ferociousness. He's all of Robert but even more so, stronger and rougher than the Baratheon King by several magnitudes. And yet, where Robert's roughness had not been appreciated, Cersei simply laying back and doing her best not to cry until after Robert was done with her… Vali's brutality feels good.

She hates to admit it, and she certainly can't explain it, but when he fucks her like this, taking her from behind like she's some bitch in heat… Cersei almost feels exactly like that, a bitch in heat. Her moans begins to sound rather wanton as they fill the room, and when she tries to hang her head to muffle them, Vali grabs her by her golden locks and yanks her head up, forcing her to arch her back as the lioness cries out and squeals from the way he's fucking her.

It is undeniably the best fuck Cersei has ever had, and she soon reaches climax, an experience that she's only ever managed to have while either by herself or with her twin. Certainly, nothing Robert had done had made her orgasm. And yet, the Valyrian Emperor… he fucks her so hard and so fast that she positively explodes with each release. It's as if everything before now has barely been a teaser. All of the orgasms she experienced at her brother's skilled hands and tongue and cock… they pale in comparison to the pleasure that the Valyrian Emperor is providing her with.

She's not sure she can go back, after this. Not to Robert, not to Jaime. As her mind begins to unravel, or at least that's what it feels like, one of Cersei's last coherent thoughts is that Vali has ruined other men for her. This cock, this man… is all she wants in life. She doesn't care how he takes her, be it as his Empress or concubine… so long as he takes her.

True to his word, Vali has her screaming his name at the top of her lungs and begging for more by the time he finishes inside of her. His seed paints the inner walls of her womb as his load greatly eclipses the volume both Robert and Jaime have managed to leave inside of her on their respective attempts. She's never felt so full, almost like she's fit to burst… and she's never felt so satisfied either.

As he pulls out of her and Cersei slumps forward onto her front, the ravaged and ravished Queen of the Seven Kingdoms turns onto her back, gazing up at her conqueror, even as he climbs off the bed… and begins to get dressed. She's not even sure when he stripped naked, because in the beginning, when he'd torn her gown off of her, he'd still been fully dressed.

It matters not, because the very fact that he's now ignoring her, and dressing makes Cersei fear that he intends to leave her behind. It takes every bit of her remaining strength, but the young Queen manages to sit up all the same, this time on her elbows as she looks to the Valyrian Emperor in a new light… a worshipful light.

"Please… take me with you."

He glances at her and grins wickedly, before breaking her heart with his answer.

"No."

A shudder of primal fear runs through her. She can't… she doesn't WANT to live without him, not anymore. And save for a scant few things, what Cersei Lannister wants, she's always gotten, all her life.

"But… you have to. You've taken me, you've claimed me. You spilt your seed in me. What if… what if it takes? What if I bear your child instead of Robert's? He will know. And even if he doesn't… I-I'll tell him. Leave me behind, and I'll tell them all what you did to me. It'll start a war, between Westeros and Essos. I-Is that what you want?"

Once again, the Emperor is completely unconcerned by her words. He just snorts derisively and shakes his head, causing Cersei's lower lip to tremble and tears to well up in her eyes. In all fairness, she knows full well, deep down inside, that if New Valyria wished it, they could lay waste to Westeros. Vali and his absolutely massive dragon alone could lay waste to the continent as Aegon the Conqueror had done some three hundred years before.

But Cersei had to try. She desperately, desperately wanted Vali, wanted to stay at his side, NEEDED him to want her back. She-

He's suddenly there, in front of her, cradling her face… abruptly, Cersei finds herself getting lost in his eyes, gazing into them, drowning in them. What was he-

With a blink, Cersei stares up at the ceiling of her dark room, before a shiver takes her and she instinctively curls in on her naked form. She's sore all over, in a great deal of pain… all of it inflicted by Robert Baratheon, her husband and the King of Westeros. All in the name of producing an heir. She can feel his seed inside of her now, more cum then he's ever left behind.

Crawling out of her bed, Cersei does the best she can to scoop it out of herself and into her chamber pot. She crouches there naked and sticks her fingers deep in her cunt, wincing in pain all the while. And then she gets a new nightgown, to replace the one Robert destroyed in his haste to have her, and she gets back into bed, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

A certainty takes her in that moment. On the morrow, she would make sure to go to Pycelle for Moon Tea, the Grand Maester father's man through and through, and unlikely to say anything. And then she would go to Jaime… and she would make sure any children she bore came from her twin brother's loins, rather than the bastard of a King who her father had pawned her off to.

-x-X-x-

As I slip out of King's Landing, having fucked every Queen and Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, past and current for the time being, there's a smile on my face. It'd been a while since I'd relied so heavily on compulsion… but sometimes it was simply too fun to fuck with someone's reality, to do whatever I liked by sheer virtue of mind control, rather than force of arms.

Cersei Lannister had been delectable as young and nubile as she was at this stage of the timeline. She'd be absolutely ravishing as a mother of three later on. But most importantly, I'd made sure that she would play her part, even as I'd had my fill of her. All was going according to plan.

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