Wake up Next morning

My peaceful sleep didn't last.

I was violently yanked out of my dreams by a sound like a damn chainsaw starting up right next to my ear.

GRRRK-SHHHH-PHEWWW.

I groaned, my eyelids feeling heavy and glued shut.

"Aryan, shut the fuck up," I mumbled, blindly rolling over in the heavy bed.

But my hand didn't hit Aryan's skinny shoulder. It hit a massive, sweaty wall of meat.

My eyes snapped wide open.

Laying right beside me, taking up a solid seventy percent of the giant mattress, was a huge, shirtless man. He had a giant, hairy, fat stomach that heaved up and down with every thunderous snore. A thick, wild black beard covered his face, and he reeked of cheap wine, roasted meat, and stale sweat.

King Robert.

My heart dropped straight into my stomach. Holy shit. I forgot. I'm Cersei Lannister.

A massive wave of pure, unfiltered panic hit me. I quickly pushed myself backward, scrambling away from him until my spine hit the hard wooden headboard of the bed. I sat up against it, bending my knees in tight against my chest in a sharp V-shape, and grabbed the thick fur blanket, pulling it tightly all the way up to my neckline.

I just stared at his massive, snoring form in total horror, my hands actually shaking. I had blacked out pretty hard last night. Did he stumble into the room, get into bed, and just... fuck me while I was passed out?!

I squeezed my eyes shut, doing a quick mental check. I mean, common sense told me I would definitely feel sore, or at least notice a mess, if a giant like that actually penetrated me while I was asleep. Luckily, everything down there just felt completely normal. But the sheer paranoia of waking up next to him was eating me alive. Looking at the sheer size of his arms, the brutal reality of being a woman in this messed-up universe hit me hard. I didn't have my gym muscles anymore. I was soft, weak, and delicate. If this giant decided he wanted to force himself on me, I couldn't fight him off. I was literally his property. I felt so small and incredibly vulnerable.

As I sat there trembling against the headboard, the real reason I had blacked out came rushing back to my mind, hitting me like a freight train.

Just one finger. That was all it took last night, and I had completely melted into the mattress, whining and shaking in pure ecstasy. My face flushed burning hot just thinking about it. I had triggered my first female orgasm.

But then, the absolute worst part hit me, making my stomach drop all over again. I didn't just touch myself. I remembered exactly what I was thinking about right when I climaxed so hard.

My brain had flashed back to Aryan—looking like that arrogant knight Jaime—forcing that kiss on me in the snowy courtyard. I remembered the exact feeling of his big, rough hand grabbing the back of my neck, pulling me in tight so I couldn't move, our lips smashing together and our tongues touching.

"Fuck, no," I whispered to the empty room, lifting my hands and pressing the heels of my palms against my burning eyes.

I felt so incredibly embarrassed I wanted to die. I frantically tried to fight it off, telling myself it wasn't because of him. It was just this stupid female body! The hormones were just messing with my straight guy brain.

But even as I desperately tried to deny it, just picturing that rough kiss again made a sudden, warm tingling start up right between my legs. My new body actually liked it. The realization made me feel even more lustful, confused, and totally helpless against my own biology.

I needed to get out of this bed right now.

Keeping my eyes glued to the sleeping giant, I carefully pushed the heavy furs off my body and slowly slid my legs over the edge of the mattress. As I stood up, the red silk nightdress—which I had bunched up above my waist last night to explore my vagina—suddenly came loose. The soft, cold silk slipped down my bare thighs and unrolled, flowing all the way down to my ankles as a proper, elegant nightgown again.

I stood there shivering, looking at my reflection in a polished metal mirror nearby. My thick blonde hair was a total frizzy mess, sticking up in every direction. As I quickly tried to brush the tangles out of my face with my fingers, a loud, echoing sound rang out from outside the castle.

BONG. BONG.

It was the morning bells ringing from the Winterfell courtyard.

I completely froze, my heart leaping into my throat. I snapped my head back toward the bed, terrified that the loud noise was going to wake the King up. Robert shifted slightly, letting out a loud, wet snort that made me flinch—but then he just settled back into his deep, thunderous snoring, still totally knocked out from all the northern ale.

I let out a shaky breath. Morning.

The realization hit my brain. Aryan. The tower.

He said we just need to meet at the old, abandoned tower at the edge of the castle to discuss some political alliance, I remembered. Just a simple conversation to fix the glitched episode.

A massive wave of relief washed over me. Right. All I had to do was stand in a dusty room, talk about some boring medieval politics with Aryan until that Stark kid climbed up the wall, and boom—we get caught, the timeline resets, and we get our real bodies back. I trusted Aryan. He was my college roommate, my bro. He wouldn't lie to me about something this huge. We were a team.

I looked back at the snoring King on the bed. If he woke up and saw me, there was no telling what he’d demand from the me as his wife.

My heart pounding in my chest, I turned around and started to sneak away. The room was huge, the stone walls still holding onto the warmth from the giant stone fireplace, though only a few glowing red embers were left in the ashes. I tiptoed across the freezing stone floor, holding my breath and taking slow, careful steps so my delicate feet wouldn't make a sound. Every creak of the floorboards made my stomach twist in fear.

I kept my eyes locked on the bed until I finally reached the heavy, dark oak doors at the very end of the room, ready to slip out into the castle and get this stupid meeting over with.

I reached the heavy, dark oak doors and gently placed my hands on the thick wooden latch keeping it locked. I held my breath, slowly and carefully lifting the heavy wooden plate out of its iron hook. It gave a faint clack that made my heart skip a beat, but the thunderous snoring from the bed didn't even pause. I pulled the heavy door open just enough to slip my body through, stepping out into the hallway and shutting it quietly behind me.

The stone corridor was freezing, drafty, and dark, lit only by a few flickering morning torches. The cold air bit right through the thin red silk of my nightdress. Before I could even catch my breath, two massive figures shifted in the shadows.

The two royal guards in their heavy gold-and-red Lannister armor were still standing right outside my door, exactly where they had been last night. The moment they saw me, they slammed their metal-clad fists against their chests and bowed their heads deeply.

"Your Grace," their deep voices boomed together.

Shit. I completely froze. I was standing in the middle of a freezing hallway in nothing but a thin silk nightgown, my blonde hair a frizzy mess, sneaking out of my own bedroom like a criminal. I felt totally exposed and nervous as hell, but I knew I had to play along or they would immediately get suspicious.

One of the guards looked up, though he quickly darted his eyes back to the floor out of sheer respect.

"Shall we summon your handmaidens to dress you, Your Grace?"

"Uh... n-no!" I stuttered quickly, waving my delicate hand. "No handmaidens. I'm... I just need some fresh air. Just going for a morning walk by myself."

The guard hesitated, clearly confused by the fact that the Queen was wandering around in her sleepwear, but he didn't dare question it.

I swallowed hard, clearing my throat and trying to force my high-pitched voice to sound confident.

"Have you seen... Jaime?"

The second guard blinked, his military training taking over as he respectfully corrected me.

"You mean Ser Jaime, Your Grace?"

Instantly, a weird spike of intense annoyance flared up in my chest. Who the hell did this grunt think he was, correcting me? I'm the fucking Queen.

"He is my brother," I snapped back, my tone dropping into a cold, arrogant glare that I didn't even know I was capable of making. "I will call him whatever I want."

The giant guard actually flinched. He immediately bowed his head lower, his heavy armor clanking as he nervously shrank back.

"Forgive me, Your Grace! I meant no offense. Your brother... he was seen heading toward the broken tower at the edge of the castle grounds earlier this morning."

I stared down at this massive, terrifying soldier who could probably snap me in half, watching him practically tremble just because I raised my voice. A sudden, unexpected rush of adrenaline surged through my veins. Holy shit. A tiny smirk crept onto my soft lips. I wasn't gonna lie... having this kind of absolute power, having giant men cower and apologize just because of who I was, felt pretty damn good.

"See that you remember your place," I said smoothly, totally leaning into the Cersei character now.

Leaving the apologizing guards behind, I hitched up the bottom of my red silk gown to keep it from dragging on the dirty stone and started power-walking down the drafty corridor. I took a sharp turn at the end of the hallway and quickly pressed my back against a cold stone pillar, peaking around the edge.

Through a large, open archway, I could finally see it in the distance—the old, broken tower Aryan had pointed out.

But there was a massive problem. Between me and that tower was the main Winterfell courtyard.

It wasn't covered in heavy snow yet—since this was the first episode, the real winter hadn't actually arrived—but the northern air was still brutally cold and the ground was a mess of freezing mud and dirt. The courtyard was already packed with people. Blacksmiths were hammering metal, stable boys were walking horses, and guards were patrolling the gates. If I tried to walk through there wearing nothing but a thin red silk nightgown, with this famous, gorgeous Queen face out in the open, every single person was going to notice me. I’d be mobbed in seconds.

"Shit, how am I gonna do this?" I muttered, chewing on my soft bottom lip.

"Your Grace!"

"Fuck!" I jumped, my heart practically exploding in my chest as I spun around.

Standing right behind me was the handmaiden from last night—the cute one who had undressed me. She looked absolutely terrified that she had startled me, dropping into a deep, frantic bow.

"Forgive me, Your Grace! I am so sorry!" she pleaded, her voice shaking. "I went to your chambers to wake you and help you dress, but you were already gone! Please, forgive my lateness, I didn't mean to fail my duties—"

Seeing this genuinely pretty lady freaking out and apologizing so hard over absolutely nothing immediately triggered my inner dude. I felt super bad for her. She didn't need to be so scared over something so small.

"Hey, woah, chill out," I said, letting out an awkward, nervous laugh. I waved my delicate hand. "It's seriously fine. Calm down. You didn't fail anything."

She looked up at me, completely confused by how casual and nice I was being. But then her eyes darted to my freezing, half-naked body.

"Please, Your Grace, let me escort you back to your chambers," she urged, stepping closer. "I can help you into a proper gown, and we must wake King Robert to inform him—"

Wake the King?

My stomach dropped into my feet.

"No!" I blurted out, way too loud.

There was absolutely no way I was going back into that room with that snoring, hairy giant, and I definitely didn't want him waking up. I needed to shut this down right now. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and dug deep to find that cold Queen attitude I had just used on the guards.

"I am not going back to the chambers," I commanded, declining her offer and forcing my high-pitched voice to sound strict. "And you are not waking the King. I don't have time for a whole heavy dress right now. Go bring me something to cover my head and my body. Immediately."

The poor girl blinked, totally thrown off by my sudden mood swing.

"Something to cover... like a hooded cloak, Your Grace?"

"Yes! A hooded cloak. That's perfect," I snapped. "Go get it. Now."

She didn't ask a single question. She just bowed her head quickly and practically sprinted down the dark hallway to do what I said, though she still had a totally confused look on her face.

I leaned back against the stone pillar, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. A hooded cloak was exactly what I needed. I could cover my bright blonde hair, hide my face, and walk right through that muddy courtyard without any of these medieval peasants recognizing me.

I stayed right there, and about five minutes later, I heard fast footsteps. The handmaiden came hurrying back, holding a thick, dark brown woolen cloak with a deep hood.

"I brought it, Your Grace," she said softly, holding it out to me with shaky hands. "Is... is this to your liking?"

I reached out to grab it, but before I could even think, my mouth just opened on its own.

"Took you long enough, stupid girl. Get out of my sight before I have you whipped."

The words sliced through the freezing air like a knife. The handmaiden gasped, her eyes instantly filling with tears. She dropped the cloak straight into my hands, bowed frantically, and ran away down the corridor, crying and apologizing over and over again.

I stood there totally frozen, holding the heavy wool.

What the fuck just happened?

I stared down the empty hallway, totally confused. I didn't mean to say that! I actually felt really sorry for her. Did I do that myself, or is this body just mixing up with my mind to act accordingly? Am I inheriting Cersei's bitchiness along with her body?

I shook my head hard, trying to clear the weird, messy thoughts.

"Whatever. I don't have time to care about this right now," I muttered to myself.

I unfolded the thick brown cloak. But before I put it on, I looked down at my exposed chest one last time. The cold air was making my boobs feel heavy and sensitive. I couldn't help myself. I raised both of my soft hands and firmly cupped my own breasts, giving them a gentle, lustful squeeze. God, they felt so incredibly soft and perfect in my palms. A tiny, warm shiver ran down my spine.

"Focus, Zack," I whispered, forcing myself to let go of them.

I threw the heavy brown cloak over my shoulders, wrapping the rough wool tightly around my body to completely hide the red silk nightgown and my curves. I reached up and pulled the large hood deep over my head, casting my face into shadow.

Ready. I stepped out from the covered walkway and walked straight into the bustling, cold courtyard, heading directly for the broken tower.

I made sure the heavy brown cloak was tied tight, securing the thick knots all the way down to my toes so not a single inch of the red silk nightgown was showing. I pulled the large hood deep over my head, casting my face and my bright blonde hair into complete shadow.

I kept my head down, walking quickly through the busy, cold courtyard. Blacksmiths were yelling, guards were marching past, and stable boys were hauling hay, but nobody paid any attention to a random hooded figure hurrying through the freezing mud.

I was almost there. The old, broken tower was just a few feet away. But suddenly—bam.

I bumped hard into someone. I stumbled back, my hands instantly flying up to clutch the cloak tight so the hood wouldn't fall off. I kept my head strictly down, staring at the dirty ground, terrified that whoever it was would see my famous Queen face.

"Watch where you are walking, you stupid Northern cow!" a whiny, arrogant boy's voice snapped.

I peaked through the edge of my hood. It was a teenage boy with bright blonde hair and ridiculously fancy red and gold clothes. Standing right next to him was that pretty red-haired girl from the feast last night—Sansa.

Even with the heavy wool cloak wrapped around me, the thick fabric still hugged my chest and hips just enough to show my curves. The blonde kid obviously saw the female shape and assumed I was just some random, lowly Winterfell peasant lady.

"Do you have any idea who you just bumped into?!" the kid yelled, his face twisting into pure, evil anger. He stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. "I should have my guards chop off your hands! I'll have your eyes gouged out with a rusty knife and feed them to my dogs!"

My jaw clenched tight. What the fuck? My gym-bro instincts flared up instantly. My blood was boiling. I wanted to grab this little shit by his fancy collar and punch him right in his smug face for talking to me like that.

But before I could do anything, Sansa stepped in, looking totally nervous.

"Please, my Prince, calm down," she said softly, gently touching his arm. "She is just a clumsy servant. It isn't worth your anger. Let's just go."

The kid scoffed, acting all tough and disgusted.

"Fine. Only because you asked, Sansa. But if I see this ugly bitch again, I'm taking her tongue."

He turned around and they walked away together. I stood there, glaring at the back of his head. I had absolutely no idea who that little psycho kid was. I was completely unaware that he was Joffrey—the prince, the future king, and technically, my own son in this glitched universe. I just thought he was some random rich asshole. I actually felt really sorry for Sansa having to hang out with a total creep like that.

But I didn't have time to worry about it. I needed to get into the tower right now.

I hurried the last few steps, grabbed the heavy iron ring of the tower door, and pulled it open. I quickly slipped inside and pushed the heavy wooden door shut behind me, sliding the rusted metal lock into place from the inside.

I let out a heavy breath of relief and pulled my hood back, shaking out my frizzy blonde hair. It was actually kinda warm inside compared to the freezing courtyard outside.

I looked around. The inside of the tower was totally black, old, and creepy. Thick cobwebs covered the corners, and dust floated everywhere in the air. Right in front of me was a tight, spiral stone staircase leading all the way up to the top floor. Even though the stone walls were dark, the morning sunlight was shining brightly through the large cracks in the broken walls and the small, narrow windows, lighting up the dusty stairs perfectly.

"Alright, Aryan, let's get this stupid meeting over with," I muttered to myself.

I let out a heavy breath of relief and immediately untied the thick knots of the brown cloak. It had done its job hiding me from that little psycho prince, but it was heavy and itchy. I pulled it off my shoulders and tossed it over a broken stone block near the doorway.

I looked up at the tight, spiral stone staircase leading all the way up to the top floor.

"Alright, let's get this over with," I muttered, grabbing the front of my red silk nightgown to keep from tripping.

I started the climb, but holy shit, it was a nightmare. Within the first two minutes, my legs were already burning. Back in the real world, I could easily run miles on the treadmill, but this female body had absolutely zero gym stamina. My thighs ached, my breathing was completely out of whack, and without a tight corset holding me in, my heavy boobs were bouncing with every single step, making my chest feel sore.

After what felt like ten or fifteen minutes of pure, agonizing torture, I was completely exhausted. I was panting hard, my soft legs practically shaking as I finally pushed myself up the very last few steps and stumbled into the room at the top of the tower.

I stopped to catch my breath, looking around. The room was a massive, ruined mess. Huge, heavy broken wooden beams were collapsed and crisscrossed all over the dirty stone floor. Thick, dry vines and dead branches hung everywhere from the walls and the ceiling, making the place look like some giant, creepy bird's nest. The only light came from a large, open window on the far side of the room.

And standing right there, leaning casually against the stone window frame, was Aryan.

He wasn't wearing his heavy gold Kingsguard armor anymore. Instead, he was wearing a loose, light-beige tunic with massive, puffy wide sleeves. The front had a deep V-neck that was totally open, showing off Jaime Lannister's muscular chest. He looked way too comfortable for a guy trapped in a medieval death universe.

Seeing him standing there, looking like my actual bro behind that handsome knight face, made a huge wave of relief wash over me. I was just so damn glad I actually made it and wasn't alone anymore.

"Dude... finally," I gasped out, leaning over and resting my delicate hands on my knees to catch my breath.

Aryan jumped slightly, spinning around from the window to look at me. His eyes immediately darted down to my thin red silk nightgown and my messy hair, a nervous swallow bobbing in his throat.

"Zach! You made it," he said, his deep voice sounding a little tight.

"Yeah, barely," I complained, standing back up and crossing my arms over my chest, totally annoyed.

I shot him a glare. "Dude, I fucking hate this body. Do you have any idea how hard it is to climb endless stairs with absolutely zero stamina and massive boobs bouncing around? I don't even have shoes on, just these thin little slippers. It's torture."

Aryan shifted awkwardly on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh, sorry man. But... you're here now. That's what matters."

"Yeah, whatever," I sighed, walking further into the dusty room and carefully stepping over a broken wooden beam. I walked up closer to him, shaking my head. "So, let's just get this stupid political talk over with, okay? Tell me what to say about the Starks or whatever so that kid can climb up, catch us, and we can get the fuck out of this universe. I want to go home."

Aryan shifted his weight, suddenly refusing to look me in the eye. He rubbed the back of his neck, his heavy Kingsguard boots shuffling awkwardly against the dusty stone floor.

"Zack... uh... well..." Aryan stuttered, his deep Jaime-voice cracking slightly. He looked incredibly nervous, a bead of sweat running down his forehead despite the freezing air blowing through the open window. "The thing is..."

I frowned, dropping my arms. My annoyance instantly shifted into confusion. I took a step closer to him.

"What's wrong, dude? Why are you acting so weird? Just tell me what to say so we can trigger the scene."

Aryan took a slow, hesitant step closer. He didn't look like my nerdy roommate anymore. He reached out, his large hand gently holding my chin and forcing me to look up at him.

What the—what is he doing? I thought, my brain completely scrambling. Is he pranking me?

Obviously he is... but why do... why am I just staring in his eyes?

I couldn't look away. Jaime’s face looked so intensely interesting, so rugged and sharp. Without even meaning to, I automatically bit my lower lip. My legs twirled inward, my knees pressing tightly together as I desperately tried to resist the sudden, heavy, wet sensation pooling right in my vagina. My heart started beating so fast I could feel it in my throat.

"Aa-ryan... what are you—"

He quickly brought his hand up, pressing a calloused finger directly against my soft lips, shushing me.

"Zack..." Aryan whispered, his deep voice cracking slightly with nerves. "Don't be afraid of what I'm gonna do now."

What the hell is he talking about?

Before my guy-brain could even process the words, Aryan suddenly moved. He grabbed my waist, his strong hands spinning me around so fast I lost my balance. I pitched forward, falling flat onto my stomach over one of the thick, collapsed wooden beams on the dusty floor.

"Aryan, what the fuck!!?" I yelled, my high-pitched voice echoing in the ruined tower.

I tried to scramble backward, but he was way too strong. He grabbed both of my delicate wrists, pulling my arms behind my back and firmly pinning me down against the wood with just one of his massive arms. Behind me, I heard the heavy, unmistakable sound of leather shifting as his free hand started to unbelt his Kingsguard pants.

"I'm sorry, Zack!" Aryan's voice came from right above me, totally frantic. "But the truth is... the political meeting was a lie! The original scene, the one the intruder stopped... Jaime and Cersei were having sex in this tower! We have to physically recreate it to fix the timeline!"

My entire world completely shattered.

"No way!" I started to panic, thrashing against his heavy grip as my absolute worst nightmare came true. "You are going to fu-fuck me?!" I yelled in Cersei's panicked voice, my heart exploding in my chest as I suddenly felt the bottom of my red silk gown below the belt being lifted up into the freezing northern air.

TO BE CONTINUED IN NEXT CHAPTER

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**TO BE CONTINUED IN NEXT CHAPTER**

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