He was observing the scene through the eyes of Littlefinger, the experience as vivid to him as if he was there himself, though muted somewhat as he only had Littlefinger's limited human senses to draw upon.
"WHAT! THE! ABSOLUTE! FUCK! HAPPENED! TO! MY! FUCKING! WIFE!!!" Robert Baratheon roared, his fist smashing into the table in fury. Despite having let himself go completely to seed the King was still a powerful man, and the thump he gave the table was impressively powerful for a human he noted dryly.
"1.." Ser Jamie began, before being savagely cut off by the King. "YOU FUCKING WHAT KINGSLAYER!!?? You were outside her door all night long, and you heard nothing? NOTHING!!!!???
"Your Grace, LL.."
"YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!!!" the King hissed, he was about to go on another rant when the Grand Maester Pycelle shuffled into the Small Council chambers.
Apart from Littlefinger and the King Varys and Lord Ned Stark were present, the Lord Command of the Kingsguard was absent as was usual. With no Master of Ships or Laws, and with King Robert having not bothered to fill these posts, the Small Council was smaller than normal these days.
"WELL?!" The King bellowed at the Grand Maester, who visibly recoiled as if struck, ignoring the King and continuing to shuffle to his normal spot at the table and proceed to slump into his seat.
"This had better be fucking good Pycelle!" snarled the King.
"Her grace, she, she is sleeping now. I have given her milk of the poppy to help her slumbers, though she was quite hysterical about being sent to sleep, I, I mean, we.... She had to be forced to drink the necessary draught...."
Robert showed no concern on his face at this, his face still brooded like a thunderstorm about to be unleashed, "go on" he simply ground out between clenched teeth.
"The, the marks upon her Graces flesh, the injuries inflicted upon her womanly parts and.....other entrances to her body..... along with the... volume of..... of seed.... discovered...
Here Pycelle halted, obviously terrified to continue, trembling and refusing to meet the Kings furious, glowering glare.
"GET! FUCKING! ON! WITH! IT!" shouted the King, each word punctured by a fist pounding the table.
"Her grace must have been subjected to a gang rape of a prolonged nature, with, with at. at least....twenty to thirty participants..." here Pycelle turned his head away, cringing as if expecting a physical blow from King Robert.
Twenty to thirty participants he mused in his head; he must have gone lightly on Queen Cersei as he observed this meeting from the safety of his current quarters in one of Baelish's brothels.
"By the Old Gods and the New," Ned Stark breathed out, no, just him and the unquenchable lusts of the wamphyri he wanted to say via Littlefinger's mouth, but he of course refrained from this.
"How, how is how was, this possible?" asked the Warden of the North and Hand of the King
"Ser Jamie?" the King asked in a deadly whisper.
"1, 1....I cannot.." the Golden haired fool stuttered.
"I went to her this morning," the King said, "wanted to have words with the bitch over what her tattletales were saying about Renly. I came across you on guard at her door, you were fucking surprised to see me up so early eh Kingslayer?" at this Robert barked out a harsh, ironic laugh.
"I knocked and there was no response, so after knocking gain twice more we entered her. chambers...and what did we see Kingslayer?" the King asked, his fury barely under control,
"Your Grace, 1"
"Kingslayer, what did we see, what did both of us see with our own FUCKING eyes?"
"Erh, her Grace, your wife, my, my sister.....naked atop her bed....
"Describe her Kingslayer, describe what condition we found my wife, your sister in..."
"Please, your Grace, 1, 1..."
"Your KING! Command's you Ser Jamie, ANSWER MY GODSDAMMED QUESTION!"
"Cersei... her Grace was naked, sleeping her...she....she bore many marks on her body, dark bruises, at her throat, her teats, across her waist and hips, on her arms and legs...."
"Anything else?" hissed the King, his jaws bunching closed and his teeth grinding together.
"Please don't..."
"Ser Jamie?" the King asked again, his voice sunken to a deadly whisper.
"Robert, your Grace?" asked Ned Stark in a plaintive voice, trying and failing to diffuse the situation.
Robert shot out an arm to point at Ned Stark, his gaze never leaving Ser Jamie though, "Ned, I'll ask for your opinion, but not now. This is between the Kingslayer and me....."
"Kingslayer? My question goes unanswered..."
"There, there was much... seed.... coating her Grace's form, and soaking her bedsheets, it, it was still.... leaking from....from between her legs....."
"Out from her cunt and arse!" the King bellowed. "My Queen, the mother of MY CHILDREN, raped and near left for dead in MY KEEP!! WHILE YOU STOOD GUARD AT HER DOOR AND HEARD NOTHING??!!" Robert stood up, pushing his chair away with a sudden, savage thrust. "And you expect me to believe you Kingslayer? You take me for a drunken fool, I know that, but even I'm not that drunk to see that, that what happened to, to Cersei, was impossible without your connivance!"
"Your Grace, Ser Jamie is obviously much upset by this terrible imposition upon the person of his twin sister, her Grace the Queen. I know Ser Jamie well, he would never, never stand to allow such a thing to occur to her Grace, never! You, you should retract your accusation your Grace, it is made in the passion of anger, but it is unfair and not becoming of you as a King," said Pycelle, seemingly to be unable to read a room to save his life he noted as Robert's face went purple with rage.
"YOU, YOU, DARE! PYCELLE, to fucking tell me what I can and cannot do?" as Robert went to move around the table to confront the Grand Maester.
At this Varys decided to intervene, "You Grace, 1, I am sorry to bring this up at this delicate time, but I have grave news of the Targaryen children in Essos."
This stopped Robert cold, but he stood there flexing his fists for a few seconds before he snarled, "well don't just say that Varys, out with it!"
"I, I don't quite know how to put this your Grace...." the Master of Whispers gave one of his trademark titters.
"Varys, I grow tired, I am NOT in the mood for any of your games right now!"
"Of course your Grace.... It appears that Ser Jon Connington did not die as was suspected and he in fact has been living in hiding in Essos all this time."
"That sword swallower, what the fuck of him? He's a nobody now, no lands to his name and he was kicked out of the Golden Company for embezzlement if I remember correctly?"
"Indeed your Grace, but that seems to have been a conjurers trick to distract attention to what was really happening...I don't really know how to say this other than Prince Aegon, the first born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell was not killed by the Mountain after all, the babe whose skull was bashed in was an imposter, and the real Aegon Targaryen was spirited away by parties unknown before the sack of Kings Landing."
"Let me guess," King Robert growled "this dragonspawn has turned up?"
"Yes your Grace, but not only that, he has turned up with Lord Jon Connington, who vouches for the lads blood and parentage. And, and the Golden Company has, has cancelled its latest contact and declared itself for King Aegon, sixth of his name."
"Well it never rains when it fucking pours eh Ned?" came the strangled laugh of the King.
"Erh, there is more your Grace," added Varys, keeping his voice lowly pitched and soft.
"Oh for fucks sake!" he spat out, giving a gesture to Varys to continue.
"It, it appears that the lad Aegon is to marry Princess Danaerys Targaryen, or at least he is betrothed to the girl."
Robert burst out laughing at this, a most unexpected outcome he had to admit, until the King ceased his guffaws, "well, talk about pissing in Viserys's porridge, eh? I'll bet that sour dragonspawn cunt is none too pleased with all of this eh Ned?"
When the Warden of the North did not respond the King lurched to his feet and announced, "I need to get fucking drunk!" and with that he stormed out of the Small Council chambers.
He withdrew from Littlefinger's mind, satisfied that he had seen enough and that things were proceeding to plan.