They took her, wisely, when she'd least expected it; when her guard was down and her thoughts were elsewhere and her person was entirely alone and utterly vulnerable. It was what she would have done herself, had she the need to kidnap a queen, and if Cersei Lannister wasn't filled with such indignant wrath, she might've actually admired the execution of the whole thing. The time for that was long past, however, for the lioness had awoken within her, and its roar was mighty.

Unfortunately for her roar, though, the gag came first; a thick, knotted thing that was slipped over the top of her head and pulled so tightly into her mouth, Cersei was forced to chomp down on the cloth like some commoner's bridled horse as it was firmly fastened around the back of her head. She made to shout, but the gag performed its duty admirably. Only a muffled, pathetic noise trickled through the heaviness of the cloth. She hated the sound almost as much as she hated whomever had gagged her in the first place. It was the sound of weakness, of defeat.

She raised her hands to pry the infernal thing from between her lips but her wrists were caught, wrangled, and twisted back behind her. Ropes coiled around them, wrapping and looping until the freedom of her arms was gone, and only the secure hold of her forced bondage remained. When her hands were tied, her assailant slid their own hands down her sides and legs till they reached her ankles. A hard whack on the side of her calf sent her feet together and then they were bound up too; tightly and with much rope, the same as her hands. When her captor made to bind her at the knees as well, a second intruder slipped a blindfold down over her eyes and knotted it behind her head. Cersei growled into her gag and thrashed against her ropes, but she was bound too securely to accomplish much else. Someone dug their shoulder into her belly and hoisted her upwards. She was draped casually over a broad and bony shoulder like a sack of wheat and carried off.

Blinded, silenced, and immobilized, Cersei could only fume and twist ineffectively at her binds as she bobbed up and down atop her captor's shoulder, being rushed off to wherever they intended to steal her away to. Someone will see me, she thought, a silver ray of hope amidst the red sheet of anger blanketing her every thought. These treacherous cowards cannot smuggle me out of my own castle trussed up like some mule without drawing attention to themselves! She thought of her vengeance when the fools were finally apprehended, the ways she would hurt them and humiliate them before killing them, and that served to calm her more than anything else.

With every agitating thump atop her kidnapper's shoulder, however, that hope of hers waned. They never took her outside the castle, even with a blindfold on she could tell as much. They turned and twisted and went up some stairs and down others, but the cool breeze of the outside never kissed at Cersei's fair skin. And when the journey finally ended, it was not into a wagon or thrown over the back of a horse or stuffed into some sack that Cersei found herself, no, it was simply lowered into a chair. Ropes, of course, followed at once, binding her tightly to the back of the chair till she could not budge. Her legs were not bound down to the chair's own, however. They were pulled straight out in front of her and her ankles were untied just long enough to lay each separately into a curved wooden dip. A moment later, the harsh bang of a wooden stock laid over the tops of her ankles, locking them down in place and keeping her legs stretched and useless before her.

"Good. Leave us," a barely audible voice spoke. Footsteps sounded in retreat, doors opened, closed, locked, then footsteps neared and fingers fell upon Cersei's brow, taking hold of her blindfold. It was ripped away, and as Cersei squinted to adjust to the dim lighting of what looked like a dungeon of sorts, a true image of horror materialized before her that sent an iron spike of hatred daggering up from her belly to pierce her heart. "Hello, mother," Margaery Tyrell cooed, flashing that infuriatingly insolent lopsided grin of hers.

The Queen could not help herself but to scream then. The gag, of course, made a mockery of her attempt. "Hrmmmnmnmmmnmph!'" was all that sounded. Hot indignant rage took hold of her, sending Cersei in a desperate attempt, first, to try and work the knotted cloth out of her mouth to no avail, then to try and writhe free of all the Gods-forsaken ropes keeping her pinned in place with the same result. Her eyes widened to saucers as she glared up at the younger woman hovering over her. Her teeth sunk into her gag so hard, she thought she might bite right through it for a moment. At the small of her back, her fists coiled tight enough that she felt her fingernails cut her palms. "Hrmrm mrmnn mrm!" Cersei mumbled, hating how weak and foolish she sounded, but unable to help herself. She needed to tell the conniving whore who'd had her kidnapped how great and swift her retribution would be. "Nrm mrrmm mmrph HRMPH!"

Margaery only tittered, crossing her arms as she looked down upon the bound queen. "You know, mother dearest, a gag rather suits you. I'm afraid I can't understand a word you're saying, though."

Cersei felt her nostrils flaring as she glowered at the woman, grinding her teeth against the cloth jammed between them and jerking at her ropes every which way she could. Her focus fell briefly to Margaery's pretty little slender neck, and her thoughts to how wonderful it might feel to wrap her hands around it and squeeze. She was breathing so hard a dizziness took her, and Cersei, at least, made herself calm enough to control her air.

"Shall I drop this little charade now, Cersei?" Margaery asked, leaning down so the two were on eye level. "It isn't easy being so polite to someone I think so little of, in truth. Your silence is a blessing, but as much as I like you shut up like this, I'd also simply love to hear you threaten and berate me from your lofty royal position… tied to a chair." She laughed, flicking strands of her chestnut brown hair over her shoulder as she clasped her hands together. "So can I remove your muzzle? Or shall I leave it on your big wicked mouth for a day or two and come back? Hmm…"

"Hrmmnm! Hrmm mrm nrmmph!' Cersei could not resist but to shout at the little whore, writhing forth in the chair and pulling again at her ropes till her wrists went sore.

Margaery watched her awhile, that lopsided smirk adorned upon her face the entire time. Then she simply laughed again, moved around the back of the chair, and set about untying the gag.

"You insolent little whore!" Cersei hissed the moment she could. "How dare you do this to me! I swear to you, by all the Gods above, I will watch you suffer to your last breath you treacherous, vile little-" the gag was forced back between her teeth and pulled taught, "Mmmrmmph!"

"Quiet," Margaery demanded from behind her. "Keep your big mouth shut and listen to me. I can keep you like this if you'd prefer, you know. Gagged. And If you say one more cruel word about me, I will. Now are you going to behave yourself, mother?"

The cloth came away again and Cersei turned her head to glare back at her captor. "Don't you dare call me 'mother'. Never again. Not ever."

"If I do?" Margaery asked, stepping back before the chair and folding her arms against her chest. "What will you do, Cersei?"

She squeezed her fists till they hurt. "I'm going to have your entire family killed for this. You know that, don't you?"

"No you won't. You're not going to do a single thing to me anymore, my Queen. No, you… you're going to start obeying both your son and myself. We are married, after all. We are your proper rulers."

"Your head will be kept on a spike and preserved," Cersei forced a smile of her own. "So the whole kingdom can see that pretty grin of yours for all time."

Margaery rolled her eyes and sighed. "Perhaps you need to be muzzled again. Your threats are starting to bore me."

"If you even think about putting that gag back in my mouth," Cersei hissed, eyeing the rag with apprehension.

"You'll what? Squirm around? Stare at me angrily? No, you're powerless now, Cersei. I'm in control, and you're not doing a thing without my say so."

Cersei fumed. She leaned forward. "You'd better kill me, whore. When I escape this pathetic little kidnapping… there will be no salvation for you in any corner of this world."

Margaery emphatically sighed again to let it be known how she felt about the threat. Instead of responding, though, she simply sauntered down the length of Cersei's legs, rounded the corner of the stocks keeping them locked in place, and sat herself. She flashed her infuriating little grin at the queen briefly before reaching for Cersei's ankle and working her shoe free.

"What are you doing!?" Cersei demanded, jolting forward in the chair until the ropes slack yanked her back and reminded her she wasn't going anywhere. Her other shoe was removed, leaving her barefooted. She despised being barefoot. That was how commoners and all the filthy peasants that flooded flea bottom lived. It was the most clear distinction between classes. She barred her teeth and growled, "Answer me! What are you doing!?"

"You know, Cersei," Margaery began, "a person's feet say much about them. If you look at the feet of a beggar, you can see the struggle and hardships of their life. The dirt and the calluses and the pain. But your's? Your's are pampered and pretty. Soft. Uncallused. Never before have they worked an honest day in their lives."

Cersei rolled her eyes. "A speech about privilege? From Mace Tyrell's daughter?" She sneered. "You must be as stupid as you look to be so bluntly hypocritical."

"I assure you my childhood was no 'princess's dream'… but this isn't about me, Cersei. It's about you. And, more precisely, what I'm going to do to you." Margaery reached into her bodice and slowly drew out a long feather. She twirled it before her eyes and smiled.

Cersei tensed the moment she spotted the thing. "This is ridiculous. We are not playing some child'sgame here! What do you think this is?" She squirmed in her ropes, tugging at her legs until the wooden grip of the stocks banged against her ankles. "You whore… if you think you're-"

"Call me a whore again and I'll have your lips sewn shut, mother dear," Margaery interjected. "Now I'm going to torture you, Cersei. I spoke with a very… reliable source who informed me how much our beautiful queen despises being tickled." She laughed. "So that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Cersei swallowed. Her throat felt dry and coarse all of a sudden. Her eyes narrowed upon the tip of the feather. "…what do you want?"

Margaery held her eyes for a long moment before answering, "To hear your roar."

The feather found her. Margaery lowered it and dragged the tip from Cersei's heel to the top of her big toe and back again. Every nerve in her body came alive and sent Cersei tensing and writhing. "Stop," she demanded, fuming at the younger woman. "You have no right to do this to me! You… you must stop!"

"Must I?" The feather dragged along her sole again, flicking side to side beneath her toes before tracing a long, agonizing, line back down to her heel.

"Stop!" Cersei wailed, pulling at the stocks containing her and gritting her teeth.

"Roar, you bitch." Mercilessly, Margaery drove the feather up and down her right foot, then her left. She kept the tip just grazing the sensitive skin of her feet, finding her way into Cersei's arches, where the feather turned from agonizing to utterly unbearable.

She'd tried to control herself until then, but the feather's soft poking into her arch was to much for the lioness to handle. She threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. "Stop! St.. stahahahhaha! HAH! STOP HAHAHA! OOH! OH YOU WH-HAHA STOP! HAHAHA OH AHAAAHHAH!" The feather dragged back up to her toes, circled their, came back to her heels, moved into her arch, danced an endless dance of pure tortue. "NO MORE! OOOOH! AHHAHAHA! PLEASE! HAHAHA! OH!" She felt tears cutting down her cheeks, her back arch so severely the ropes strained to keep her in place. Her toes scrunched and unscrunched as she yanked desperately at her bound legs. "Aaaah! Ho! Ahhh stop! HAH! PLEASE!"

Then, finally, Margaery did stop. She watched with a look of pure delight as Cersei panted to catch her breath and sweat rolled down her brow. "Who is your Queen?"

Cersei glared. She shook her head. "Never…" She took a deep breath to still her pounding heart. "Never will you… be my Queen. You… hear me? You let me go! You let me go right now!"

Margaery place the feather's tip gently back against the sole of her foot but did not move it further. She raised an eyebrow. "Never?"

Cersei swallowed. Just the feel of the thing was enough to stiffen her and get her heart pumping again. "Don't."

"Who is your Queen?" The feather wiggled, just enough to send a ticklish spasm up Cersei's leg.

"You!" Cersei wailed, seething at the little whore. Tell her the lies she wants to hear and your vengeance will come sooner. "You are the Queen. There? Does that appease you? Return my shoes to my feet. Now."

Instead, Margaery tucked the feather in between Cersei's toes and twirled it.

"No!" Cersei pleaded, throwing her head back again and shaking it. "You…AHHAHA OH HOO AHAAHH! YOU LYING- HAHAHA! OH! YOU HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!" Her feet were assaulted mercilessly in every which way. Cersei's tears came upon her so fully she could barely see even when she did manage to try and open her eyes. "Oooh! OHHHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! HAHAHA PL-AAHHAHAHA!"

The tickling seemed to never end until it did, abruptly, and before Cersei even knew what was happening, Margaery was behind her chair, yanking the gag back into her mouth tightly. "Hrmmmmmm!" Cersei protested as she was muzzled. "Mmmmph! MMMMPH!"

"Shut up," Margaery told her, finishing the knot at the back of her head. "Shut - up! I heard what I wanted to out of you. Now you're not going to say another thing until I come up with something else I want to hear. Do you understand me, Cersei?" She moved to the front of the chair and knelt so they were eye level. She smirked. "You're not going anywhere. You're not saying anything. And when I decide to come back down here? I'm going to have my fun with you again until it bores me and I come up with something new."

"Mmmmnrrrrrrrrrr!" Cersei growled with a shake of her head.

"Behave yourself, mother. I'll see you again very soon, I'm sure." With that, Margaery leaned forth, kissed Cersei on her brow, and grinned. She stood, turned, and disappeared out of the dungeon's solitary door, and Cersei Lannister was alone.

For a long time then, she writhed against her restraints. By the time she'd finished, she was sore in every place the ropes or stocks bound her, and had accomplished nothing but tiring herself out and fortifying the grim realization that she wasn't going anywhere without help.

Cersei leaned back in the chair and stared vacantly across the room at the stone wall. For a moment, she was calm, but it was only a false calm, like the ephemeral quiet before a ravaging storm. And when Cersei's storm came for her, it came with great wrath and fury. She screamed and screamed into her gag and thrashed herself in every direction against her ropes, and when at last the fit passed, she was left with only one, clearly defined thought.

She was going to destroy every member of the Tyrell family that ever lived.