Teaser of Jon Snow/Cersei Lannister One Shot (Patreon)

Jon Snow/Cersei Lannister One Shot - The Son will do just Fine

'I'm surrounded by idiots,' Cersei had never been more sure about it. Since the incident with Brandon Stark, she had hoped that her husband would decide to cut this visit short, ride back to the South, and escape this frozen hell. Instead, her husband had announced in the morning that a battle would be held in the Training Yard of Winterfell.

Lord Stark's best fighters would challenge the best Kingsguards, and whoever won would be rewarded with a knighthood. If the one who won was already a knight, they would be given one hundred gold dragons.

At least this time, it seems Cersei wasn't the only one who thought this whole thing was a waste of time; when Robert had started talking about it, she had noticed that Lord Stark didn't seem fond of the idea, and tried to change the King's mind, but he quickly realized that Robert's mind could not be changed when he was dead set on something.

Good, Cersei thought. The man had accepted the job to become Hand of the King, and this would be a good lesson for the future, to remind him that despite being Hand of the King and having a piece of fancy metal on his cloth, it didn't mean anything when Robert wanted to do something. If he wanted to do it, then not even Jon Arryn could change his mind.

Four hours after breaking their fast, Cersei looked down at the fighters in the Training Yard. They all had gathered for one reason: Cersei liked seeing people fight, and despite not talking with Jaime, she knew he would be the winner. Ser Barristand was old and wasn't as fast as he used to be.

Jon Snow

"I heard the Queen is watching. Good, I want her to see me as I defeat all of them. I heard the King rarely lies in bed with her. Well, it will change tonight. I will show her what a real man is like." Jon tried hard to ignore Theon's words; the man was like a dog, all bark, no bite. He was sure even a dead dog had more bite than Theon Greyjoy.

"You will show her what a real man is like." Robb scoffed as he wore his boiled leather outfit. "Didn't you pass out with Ross last night," Robb said snarkily as he wore his clothes; the two were ignoring Jon, who was looking down at his own reflection in the steel. His purple eyes looked back at him.

Not like a Northern, he told himself, not the first time. His eyes always reminded him that he wasn't really from The North; despite being the only Stark boy with dark hair in the family, his purple eyes always reminded him that he wasn't from the North. A part of him always felt like it was missing. He didn't know where it was, and his father never wanted to talk about it.

"Jon." He turned around and noticed the weird looks he got from Robb while Theon scoffed.

"What?"

"Theon says that he will warm Queen's bed tonight after he wins this little fight with the Kingsguard. What would you do if you won?" Robb asked curiously while Theon let out a short laugh; he was mocking Jon.

"Him!! Robb, he will be down before he even raises his sword." Theon mocked him more, but Jon wouldn't let him get away with it.

"If I'm so weak that I cannot even raise my sword, then what does that say about you, Theon." The Iron Born lost his smile as Jon walked closer; he wouldn't allow this fish to make fun of him. "Didn't I beat your ass last time? The only time you won was when you cheated." Theon fumed in anger, stepping closer, his hands turning to fists.

"Enough, Jon. We all are friends here." Robb tried to defuse the situation by placing his hand on Jon's chest and pushing him away from Theon.

"At least I'm not some coward who is afraid of girls, you had Ross naked right in front of you, but you ran away like a coward." Theon laughed as he said it, earning a look from Robb for making fun of Jon.

Jon hadn't really run away that day, but he had walked out of the chamber, telling Ross that she was beautiful, but he wouldn't sleep with her; the woman had tried to change his mind, telling him that he was handsome, and there was nothing wrong with feeling pleasure, but Jon had still not done the deed, and instead had decided to leave.

"Boys, the king is waiting. Come outside." The three of them did so and walked outside. Soon, they reached the Training Yard, which was large enough for an audience to gather.

The Northern chosen warriors formed a row before the King, as did The Kingsguards who had decided to participate.

Jon tried not to look at the king; to say that he was disappointed by him would be an understatement. His father had told them stories of Robert, 'The Demon of The Trident,' and before them stood a man who wasn't worthy of being a squire, let alone a King.

"Warriors of the North, and Kingsguards. Today, we shall see which one of you is the strongest. One hundred gold dragons for the winner or Knighthood. I hope you can entertain my friend, Eddard Stark. I'm sure you will show everyone here what a Northern warrior can do." Robert shouted with his booming voice, and the way Ned shook his head made it seem like he wanted to just disappear at that moment.

Jon wondered how this would be done when the Maester at Arms of Winterfell walked up to them with a scroll in his gloved hands. Jon watched as the man spread the scroll and read the first two names.

"Ser Meryn Trant against the Bastard of Winterfell, Jon Snow."

He turned around to see who would be his fighter, and before him stood a man he would have mistaken for a private toilet cleaner. Ser Meryn has a dour face, a sour mouth, and pouchy bags under his droopy eyes. He has rusty-red hair spotted with grey and a rust-colored beard. Meryn is tall and somber.

"Ned, it seems your bastard son is the first, if he is anything like you, he will eat Meryn alive." The King's booming voice was heard as everyone else who wasn't part of this fight walked away, giving Ser Meryn and Jon space to fight.

"A bastard." The man scoffed, looking down at Jon, who ignored him. He looked at his pose and the way his legs were moving, and Jon knew the armor he was wearing was quite heavy. "Why don't you drop your sword so I can fight someone else?" the man continued with his taunting.

"Big talk from someone that I can defeat without using my sword." Jon said mockingly, and the man turned red as the King rose to his feat.

"The Fight begins."

As he predicted, the tall man lunged forward with no plan, but Jon quickly side stepped, avoiding him, and despite having his back turned. Jon did not even unsheath his sword, and Meryn only got more angry to see that Jon was not taking him seriously.

"Once I'm done with you, I will find the whorehouse your mother lives in and fuck her until I'm satisfied." The man roared like a wild beast, but Jon didn't allow himself to lose control. This was one of the weakest insults he had heard; it wasn't even that creative.

For five more minutes, Jon did nothing but sidestep and dodge all his attacks, and the audience was getting bored when...

"DIE!!" Meryn shouted as he swung his sword downwards, but Jon sidestepped to his right. Meryn quickly moved to his right to follow him, and a loud SNAP was heard from his leg. The man's screams echoed in the yard, and Ser Meryn Trant fell on one knee, the sword slipping from his fingers. The audience gasped in shock. They couldn't see the wound from the armor around his legs.

"What happened?" The King asked in confusion what everyone else was thinking since they couldn't see the blood trailing down Meryn's kneecap, down to his foot.

"The heavy armor, and moving around like that. His kneecap broke and tear. I'm sure he is bleeding right now under the armor." Jon answered casually, pointing at the man who was still in pain. While many gasped that Jon could defeat a kingsguard without a weapon, the king burst out laughing.

"Did you hear that, Ned? Oh gods. Why did I never think about this?" Robert laughed more, and Ned mumbled under his breath something about him using a heavy hammer for a weapon, making it impossible to move as fast as Jon did.

Cersei watched the fight keenly; she looked at the boy while defeating Ser Meryn, which was no feat; he did it without a weapon, and this was something she had never heard of before. She could see that even her twin brother seemed intrigued by this boy.

As Cersei looked down at him, his eyes looked up at hers, and she saw them again—the Purple Eyes. The sunlight illuminated his face, and she could see them as clear as day. He had the same eyes as Rhaegar, the same eyes as the one from her dreams.

A silent gasp escaped her; she could not look away from him, and she used this moment to look at his face, trying to remember every little thing about it. She hadn't really noticed it until now, but Jon Snow, despite his name, was one of the most handsome men she had seen, even more than her twin brother.

She knew right away the boy didn't take his looks from his father. No, Lord Stark was plain-looking, and there was nothing handsome about him, but he was not his bastard son.

She wondered if the rumors that Lady Ashara Dayne was his mother were true after all. Even after sixteen years, people still talked about her beauty, saying she was a purple star, her hunting violet eyes.

Cersei hummed. The boy left her sight, and the Queen started thinking of ways to approach him. The boy might be inexperienced, but she knew she could easily teach him to please a Queen.

The rest of the fights weren't important to her, and all she did was fantasize about this boy. The rest of the fights weren't as interesting, just boys fighting; then came Jon's turn again; this time, he was fighting Ser Aerys Oakheart.

"Let the best warriors win," Ser Arys said respectfully as he unsheathed his sword, and Jon did the same this time; this quickly caused the audience to shift from excitement.

Jon studied the man before him. Unlike Ser Meryn Trant, who had been wearing heavy armor, this one was wearing light armor, which made it easier to move around. He was larger and taller than Jon, but Jon showed no sign of fear in his eyes as he eyed the man like a hawk.

Ser Meryn attacked first, and Jon once again bid his time with dodges, trying to keep his distance, but he quickly realized this one was faster and stronger than the other knight, so he quickly got on the offensive.

As the weight of the sword burdened his hands, Ser Arys shifted his gaze towards Jon, peering through the narrow opening of his helmet. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, creating an uncomfortable sensation as they clung to his skin. Taking a determined step forward, Ser Arys unleashed a swing with his sword, aiming to strike his opponent. Jon skillfully parried the attack using his own weapon, adding force against Ser Arys. He pushed back, exerting every ounce of strength he possessed. The man swiftly stepped away, intending to unbalance Ser Arys and make him stumble. Reacting swiftly, Ser Arys sideswinged, his blade sliced through empty air, the boy successfully evading his strike.

Jon swiftly retaliated by slashing at his wrist, attempting to force him to drop the sword. A surge of agony coursed through Ser Arys's hand, and he felt his hand getting wet under the armor.

His face was sweating. Ser Arys gritted his teeth and slammed his mailed hand against his forehead. The boy staggered, taking steps back, but Ser Arys allowed him no time to rest; as quick as a cat, Ser Arys swung his sword, but the boy crouched, the blade slashing the empty air one feather above his head.

Ser Arys didn't see it coming, but he felt the blade hit his mailed chest hard, the breath escaping him from the impact. He let out a breath, quickly trying to fill his lungs with air, but Jon allowed him no such luxury; ruthlessly, the boy hit him quickly with his sword at the back of his knee. Ser Arys staggered, falling on his knees. He tried to sideswing, but the boy grasped his wrist with his hand, stopping his hand and forcing it upwards; Ser Arys's face was forced forward, and the man hit him again on the helm, dropping him on the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Ser Arys felt the blood and the dirt in his mouth, his face sweating. He felt like his face was melting off; he turned his head, and in front of him was the sword's tip right at his face, his helm separating him from the pointy end, as sharp as Valyrian Steel, one small thrust, and it would enter his head through his eye socket. Not the worst way to die, Ser Arys thought.

"Yield?"

"I yield." Ser Arys surrendered, raising up his arms. His muscles felt soar and were shaking and burning, and they felt hot to the touch; Ser Arys knew he needed a bath after this.

The audience cheered for Jon Snow, and the boy basked in the glory of their cheers, smiling like never before. Arya, of course, was the loudest one, shouting his name and calling everyone stupid for thinking her brother would lose the fight; even the King clapped for him despite Jon easily defeating the Knight. But when he looked upwards, he briefly acknowledged Lady Catelyn's hateful gaze; no, what caught his attention was the Queen.

Jon never considered himself a man who knew much about women, but being raised a bastard, he was used to noticing things that others couldn't, and now, she could see the lustful look the Queen was giving him; if anything, she was reminding him of Ross, the way she had tried to convince him to stay, but he had refused because he never wanted to father bastards, he knew there were ways to prevent that from happening, Robb had told him as much, but he had still refused, a part of him regretted it.

'Jon, there's nothing wrong with enjoying the company of a woman. I know you don't want to hear this, but you should try it once before you think of joining the Watch.' His uncle had told him when he arrived in Winterfell during the first feast.

Jon looked away from the Queen, not wanting to make it obvious that he was staring at her.

Fight after fight. Robb lost to Jaime, but the Northern Lords who had come to Winterfell to meet the King still praised him, saying his swordfighting was quite good. Some saying he would be better than the Kingslayer within five years.

"Jon Snow against Jaime Lannister 'The Kingslayer'" The Maester At Arms announced, and everyone cheered loudly for this fight.

Jon took a deep breath, knowing he was about to fight perhaps the best swordsman of Westeros; some said he was better than Ser Barristan, but Jon was sure that was true only because of the old Knight's age.

Ser Jaime gave him a snarky smirk as he unsheathed his sword, and Jon did the same. The audience cheered for both of them, the Lannister soldiers cheered for Jaime, every Northern lord cheered for Jon Snow, and somehow, Arya was still the loudest out of all of them.

Sansa looked unsure. She tried to quiet down her sister, but she couldn't understand how her Half-Brother was still in this game and her true brother, Robb, had lost.

"These days they will put anyone in silly fights. If I was there I would have defeated him with a single swing of my sword." Joffrey boasted beside her, and Sansa did not doubt that; her Joffrey was brilliant, handsome, and the best fighter she knew.

.

Cersei watched in silence. She looked at the way he was holding the sword, and she knew this wouldn't be an easy fight for him.

.

"I take it you never saw this day coming bastard, fighting someone like me." Jaime said with a cocky smile as he looked at Jon keenly.

"No. I never thought that I would defeat Jaime Lannister." Jon countered him with a confident smile, earning glares from the Lannister soldiers, while the King laughed, holding his belly like it would fall off.

"Tell me, Bastard. Do you see a single scratch on this armor? No. Do you know why? Because people have been swinging at me for years but they always seem to miss." Jaime said with an arrogant smile as he spread his arms out.

"I take it you choose your opponents wisely then." Jon said as they circled each other.

"I have a knack for it."

"Well, I hope you have a knack for losing, Ser Jaime," Jon said, for the first time speaking with a hint of respect in his voice; this caught Jaime a little off guard.

Jaime was familiar with Jon's pose, as well as how he held his sword and violet eyes. Arthur, he's like a mini version of you, Jaime thought with a bitter smile. Fate sure knows how to mess things up with him.

His grip around the pommel tightened, his feet digging into the ground as he prepared for the fight.

Jon felt his heart pounding in his throat. He was tired, but he hoped to gather enough strength to win this or at least not lose immediately.

The moment his first swing had begun, Jaime Lannister looked ready to deflect, parry, and dodge all the same time, yet what he did not seem to expect was a feint, and that was exactly what Jon performed. Just as he had brought down his weapon, he pulled the sword back and jumped a few feet backward, putting distance between them.

The clash of swords rang throughout the yard. The spectators had gone silent.

Jon deflected a swing before jumping forward, catching the Kingslayer slightly off guard. The Lannister tried to keep his distance by using his sword when Jon swung his sword towards his sword hand. Jaime tried to move his hand away and use his sword to block the attack when Jon used his feet to kick his hand. The Kingslayer winced in pain. The grip around his sword loosened up a bit, but that was enough for Jon to use his hand to punch him in the face, staggering him, before hitting his sword hand again; the sword fell from his fingers, stabbing the ground, but as Jon was trying to finish this...

The audience heard a gasp, and even Lord Stark was astonished by what he saw. He knew Jon was good with the sword, but this wasn't something he had expected. Robert furrowed a brow, a look of disappointment on his face.

"The boy is good," Tyrion mused with a drunken smile, but he was still sober enough to understand everything.

"He almost had him. Is not Fair!" Arya screamed in anger.

Jon's sword was right under Jaime's chin, and Jaime's dagger was right against Jon's throat. Neither moved a muscle but instead looked at each other's eyes intensely.

Now that he was close, Jaime could see that he had been wrong about his earlier assumption. The bastard's eyes weren't violet, not really. They were bright purple, almost like...Jaime quickly stifled such a thought as both he and Jon slowly pulled their blade away.

"A Draw. This fight has ended in a draw." The Maester At Arms announced the audience cheered. The Lannister soldiers did not. Instead, they glared at Jon, but the boy did not care what they thought of him. When he looked at Jaime, ready to shake his hand, the Kingslayer looked at him strangely instead.

"Lord Jaime," Jon called him, and this seemed to make Jaime escape his stupor and quickly noticed Jon's extended hand.

"...Good fight, lad." Jaime said hushedly but walked away, not shaking his hand.

Later

The same day, a feast was held once again. Cersei had made sure she looked her best at this feast, making sure her assets were visible enough. Even Tyrion said that he had never seen anyone make Jaime as speechless as he had been throughout the entire day since the fight ended. Cersei was happy that, at the very least, her twin wouldn't annoy her this time; she didn't know what was going through his head; it was probably air.

After the fighting ended, Cersei heard the pig ask Ned who the mother of his bastard son was, and Lord Stark said to drop the discussion and not ask again. This didn't sit right with Cersei. If his mother was Ashara Dayne, then why keep it a secret from the King? She understood why not bring up to the Fish Lady, but she couldn't understand why his mother was such a sour subject to him after sixteen years.

Cersei had walked into the feast, expecting to see him sitting with the Stark dogs, but he was nowhere in sight. She knew it wouldn't look good for her if she asked where he was. Thankfully, the wildest daughter of Lord Stark said out loud to Tommen why Jon wasn't at the feast. Cersei decided to wait until she could find him and have a private conversation with him.

After one hour of listening to Catelyn Stark talking about her home, she excused herself and walked outside.

Of course, she fled the hall, moving more queenly. Walking through the hallway without her guards, she stepped into a scene that made her pause in her tracks: Jon was fighting with a dummy.

"Good moves, where did you learn to fight like that?" The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms asked with a cocked eyebrow as she gradually walked towards him.

"Who is there?" The boy spun around so fast with a disrespectful tone. He stared at her wide-eyed and even began to shake in fear of talking like that to the Queen.

"Y...Your Grace, please forgive my stupidity. I just acted the moment I heard a voice without thinking that it was probably the Queen," the boy with dark hair and beautiful purple eyes said before bowing down to her.

Cersei looked at the boy before her and chuckled at his words.

"What's your name? Someone with your skills should be a Kingsguard, a member of the City Watch, or a Knight." Cersei said, looking him in the eyes. Now that he was closer, she could study them and see that she had been wrong. Those weren't the eyes of Ashara but the eyes of a Targaryen.

"Jon...Snow," The boy said quietly, but she heard it all the same.

"I wonder how you managed to defeat my twin brother. He is...was the best of Westeros." Cersei asked with a smile. In her head, she wondered how this boy could have Targaryen's blood. With his dark hair, it was clear he was a Stark; at least he had Stark blood.

"I train in God's Wood your grace when no one is looking." She hummed pleasantly from his words. She wondered if there was more to this little story because being this good with a sword by self-training was quite a feat.

"I see, you did well in the fight today, Jon Snow. I believe my husband is thinking of making you a knight." Cersei said pleasantly when something happened. The boy smiled at her, and her heart froze like someone had just turned it into ice.

She remembered that smile. It might have been years, but she would recognise that smile anywhere. It wasn't just any smile, and Jon Snow didn't just have Targaryen blood. Cersei realized that before him stood Rhaegar's son. It was the only explanation, but how? His children with Elia were all...Lyanna...

As if a knife was twisted in her heart, she felt her blood boil. This is Jon Snow. He was the whore's boy with Rhaegar. She remembered Robert boasting about Lord Stark, how despite his honor, he had fucked a girl and had taken his son to raise him in Winterfell; Robert brought that up whenever he thought of bringing a daughter of his from the Vale to King's Landing.

For a brief moment, Cersei wanted to take her revenge on Lyanna for what she had done to her, but then on second thought. This was Rhaegar's son, alive and well, so what if he had a son with a whore. It made sense why Jon Snow was so handsome. He was Rhaegar's son.

'You will marry the prince, my daughter, but don't tell this to anyone.'

Her father's words played in her head. He had been wrong; the Prince was never hers, but his son would do just fine—more than fine.

Despite his dark Stark hair, he looked like a dark Rhaegar, handsome, powerful, and talented. Cersei felt her cunt awaken at the thought of having him in her bed, and since Jaime was probably noticing the same similarities, she knew she needed to make the first move. She knew not how long it would take for Jaime's turtle brain to figure out who this Jon Snow truly was, but if he decided to finish the 'father' job, she knew he would not do anything as long as she was there.

"His grace is too generous, my Queen. I hope I can pay back somehow." From his words, Cersei notices his subtle disgust when he brings up the King, and she realizes that Jon is smart enough to realize that the King is a stupid pig.

"Hmm, pay back." She hummed pleasantly as she walked closer, getting into his space. Her dress was made to show her beauty, and she could see the hunger in his eyes, but his eyes quickly snapped back to look up at hers. She knew he was lusting for her, and this made her feel in a way she had never felt before; she reached forward, touching his arm, they were muscular, and she could see the effect she had on him based on the bulge on his pants, he seemed quite large, her mouth watered at the thought of his cock.

"You are quite handsome, Jon. Ladies surely throw themselves at you all the time." Cersei spoke with a husky tone as she walked in circles around him, her fingers dragging across his chest as she did.

"I...no, your grace. I have never been with one." He admitted, but she could sense a hint of eagerness in his voice.

"Ohh, maybe, we can change that." Cersei stopped before him with a sultry smile, his face on her hands. Before Jon could say anything, her lips were on his, and any word died in his throat.

Her lips were full and sweet, the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. Jon didn't know what he was doing, so he followed her, kissing her back. Her plump lips kissed him, and his arms went around her waist; her tongue touched his teeth, and he opened his mouth, letting her in. Cersei moaned into the kiss as Jon's tongue explored her mouth, her large breasts pressing against his chest.

At the back of his head, he knew this was wrong, and he should stop, but all thoughts went out of the window when she palmed his cock through his pants.

Jon groaned from the sensation. Their kiss ended, and he managed to regain his control back.

"We-We shouldn't do this." Jon managed to say weakly, yet his hands weren't moving away from her waist, and the Queen seemed to have noticed the same as she guided his hand to her large right breast. He slowly squeezed the soft, bountiful flesh, earning a moan from the Queen. She leaned closer, kissing the side of his lips before reaching upwards.

"Well, you wanted to pay back. This is how you do it, Jon Snow. Now, follow your Queen." She spoke sensually in his ear with a hint of demand, which was all she needed.

All One Shots written so far are available for Sergeant Tier or Higher.