This is it. This is the final for the Lannisters. Daenarys and her dragons managed to storm King's Landing flawlessly. Allied with Jon Snow and his reinforcements, plus the Dothraki and remaining unsullied at her side, the mother of dragons' win was given. Jaime remembers the day Dracarys reigned down hellfire on his men, and if it weren't for Bronn rescuing him in his moment of sheer stupidity, Jaime would surely have met his doom that day.
However, none of that matters now.
Jaime quickly moves towards the throne room. His armor clanks in his ears, resonating the worry within him. The high screech of a dragon roars as the dying screams of a city shake Jamie to the bone. Swords clash in the distance as Jaime swiftly makes way to his sister. Soldiers are moving in on them fast and he needs to find Cersei before she does something, well, crazy.
The longer they stay here the surer they will die. Honor has never been Jaime's strength so fleeing the castle is perfectly acceptable for him. However, convincing Cersei otherwise is a pursuit of itself, but damn it, he needs to try.
He knew the pregnancy was a falsehood. They've lost so much over the years, he just wanted to believe that there was still something between them. Something that could keep that dull flame of Cersei alive and well. Something that could keep them together. However, as time progressed, it was evident that Cersei had betrayed Jaime's trust in her as her belly did not grow, nor did her wine consumption cease.
Somehow, though, he could still forgive her.
"Cersei, we need to leave, right now." Jaime pleas with her as he enters the room.
She is sitting on the throne no doubt awaiting what is yet to come. A glass of red wine rests in her right hand as she stares at her brother. Her eyes reflect the fire and rage in her. She scowls down at him.
"And do what, Jaime?" she says in that condescending and cold tone of hers. "Run away? Live our life in hiding?" She cocks her head as she says this, undoubtedly thinking her brother an idiot for mentioning such an idea. "And what shall we do? Flee to Essos? Live in Bravos? Or another free city? Should we flee, even if that whore can't catch us the Iron Bank certainly will. We can't hide. We can't pay back any debts. And what happens then? We. Still. Die."
Jaime frowns at this and his worry grows even more. Convincing her to leave was futile. That much was clear. Despite a reaction that he was prepared for Jaime still feels more unsettled about his sister and that's when Jaime looks away from his sister and notices the throne room. Barrels upon barrels line up along the walls with candles slowly burning away to nothingness.
"I thought you used the rest of the reserve to blow up the Septum?" Jaime asks. His eyes are wide as he looks from barrel to barrel. Cersei couldn't have concocted such a foolish idea,he thinks to himself. Fire isn't going to hurt one of those monsters outside, and it certainly wasn't going to hurt Daenarys.
He heard the stories of their birth. Naturally at first he thought it a tale meant to terrify him, but after witnessing his army fall he knew the story was as real as the dragons destroying the city outside. Jaime runs up to his sister, stumbling over himself as he does. He grabs her by her arms, rattling her like a doll. " Are you mad? This is not winning, Cersei. This is madness."
Cersei looks up at her brother with the contempt she would show anyone else. It was expected but it still unsettles Jaime. The woman he loves and vows to always love was burning into his very soul, dousing the little flame left of their own affections. This was not the way their end should be.
"Let go of me. Run away if you must. Coward away somewhere, but do not touch me again."
He does as he's told and releases her from his iron grip. Anger rises inside of him now. If Jaime felt any fondness towards his sister anymore it is now gone. He has half the mind to leave her to die. She clearly wants to.
However, in the middle of Jaime's contemplation to flee and leave his sister to the wolves, well, dragons, a very familiar voice rings out into the throne room.
"We have you surrounded. Surrender now."
Jaime crinkles his eyes and winces at the sound of the commanding voice. If it were under different circumstances Jaime would have damn near welcomed the warm feelings that voice brings him. He tears away from his sister's gaze and looks to the center of the room and sees Brienne of Tarth marching up to him. Her armor leaves strong victorious sound as one foot passes the other. She dares to walk up closer and close the distance, her arm lying on the hilt of her cautiously moves between her and his sister knowing the time for escape is now over.
"You're not who I was expecting." Cersei says with contempt in her voice. She twirls the wine glass in her hand and takes a cool sip. "I'd half the mind to kill you now."
There was a darkness harboring in the pit of Jaime's stomach now. One that grows larger and larger by the second, threatening to consume him completely. Death was never so clearly laid before him but by the way of the old and new Gods, why did it have to be her.
Cersei catches the look of concern on her brother's face and makes note of his movement to stay between the two women.
Brienne reacted immediately, her hand raising. All she says to him is, "Don't try anything, Ser Jaime."
The situation takes the both of them off guard but Brienne is stronger in her resolve. Jaime stares at the woman in front of him and drinks in the sight of the familiar towering woman. He misses her. Regardless of his love for Cersei, he would say he cares about this woman. She was the only woman in this world who showed him the slight shiver of honor he still possessed. She showed him that despite his family, despite his past, despite Cersei herself, there was still some good left in him.
His fate lays before him. He can count on Cersei doing something damning to the both of them and he is going to have to intervene. Jaime swallows and braces himself for what foolish end he was going to face in the name of his sister. If he has to die at the hand of Brienne then so be it; It was an honorable death he didn't deserve.
As if reading his mind Cersei reacts standing up from the throne, keeping behind Jaime. "Well, if it isn't going to be that whore, killing the rest of you will have to do." Cersei smirks at the room of soldiers, pleased with herself. "In case you haven't noticed. The room is full of barrels of wildfire. That wretched woman can't seize a throne that doesn't exist, now can she?"
Hearing these words behind him it is so obvious now to Jaime that Cersei has finished her descent into total madness. Blowing up the throne just so Daenarys can't technically have it? The city is still hers. The people are still hers. All she is doing is finishing the job for her. Jaime understands what he must do now.
I'm sorry, he thinks to himself.
The darkest pits of his stomach swell as his throat runs dry. He thinks of the fondest memories of Cersei to hold him true. He looks up at Brienne with the deepest of sympathy in his eyes. Brienne stares back preparing herself for the duel about to unfold. Fighting for separate forces is too cruel a fate for these admirers..Soldiers ready their marks but Brienne keeps them at bay.
Jaime grabs the hilt of his sword and turns behind him.
He is met with a steel dagger lodged in his throat. Cersei shows no tears or signs of regret as she forces the dagger deeper, cutting through a new opening to the back of his neck. Jaime clutches at her hands but never quite makes it. Cersei lets him fall to the floor, her unfeeling eyes following his squirming body unable to do anything. Blood pours over the sides of his mouth and down into his armor, the warm liquid pooling all around looks up at her gasping for air that would not come and drowning on the blood that flowed through the both of their veins. As the blackness comes all Jaime can hear is the raw angry scream of a woman in pain and the distinct sound of a sword unsheathed. And then, nothing.
Jaime takes his last breath as Cersei falls at his side, dying from the same wound. The soldiers quickly go to the wildfire barrels seeing that they are empty as the candles burn out. Brienne commands her troops to fall back and find the Queen.
They have won.
King's Landing was hers.
.