Chapter Thirty-Six

Wonderful reviews as always! And thank you for favorite-ing this story as well! But I feel that after this chapter, I may have some haters. Like "holy crap there is a mob outside my door with pitchforks and torches." This morning I had come to terms with the fact that there were only a few more chapters left to this story. But as I was writing this chapter I decided that it was already turning into a novel, what's the point of stopping now? So I made some decisions…some possibly…not so popular…decisions…

With that ominous warning, I give you Chapter Thirty-Six!

Enjoy…if you can…(insert evil laugh)…But seriously. Enjoy!

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Jaime sat, head bowed, on the edge of the bed next to Melara's side, with his hands buried deep within his hair. Tyrion had just come back from escorting the Maester out after the man had examined Melara. He had reassured Jaime that she would live and awaken soon, but with a terrible ache in her head. Jaime would not feel relieved until he saw her deep blue eyes shining at him and she gave him one of her beautiful smiles. Tyrion brought a chair over and sat across from his older brother, knowing that Jaime would need his support tonight. Tyrion was about to offer him more words of encouragement but Jaime was the one to break the silence.

"I won't play their game anymore, Tyrion. I've never been able to do what you do, using shielded words and deceitful ways to get ahead. There was a time when I was a Knight of the Kingsguard. A Kingslayer, to be exact." Jaime lifted his face to his brother and Tyrion could see the rage building. "I'm done doing things their way. I'm going to do things my way now."

"And do what, Jaime? Kill Joffrey? Get another king-slaying under your belt?" Tyrion had meant it in jest, but from the intense look in Jaime's eyes, he knew his brother was serious. He knew that Jaime would be capable of doing it, had been capable of doing it all along. He just needed the right motivation. And Joffrey gave it to him when he set his sights on Melara. Jaime looked towards his wife but continued to speak to his brother.

"That's exactly what I will do. I've seen the bruises on Sansa Stark, heard the rumors of the things he's done. Joffrey is no better than Aerys. I've killed one Mad King, I can kill another." Jaime gently ran his hand over the bandage covering Melara's wound, moving the hair out of the way that had fallen there. Tyrion would never say that he was happy that Melara had been wounded, but it did present him with a bigger ally in Jaime. He took pity on his brother, then. Jaime had been nothing but a pawn throughout his life, used by Aerys, Tywin, Cersei. It was no wonder that Melara's innocent ways had called to something deep inside Jaime. Tyrion remembered the way that Tysha had made him feel before he discovered her deceit. He focused on the present, knowing that his next moves would either ruin everything he had been planning or just further it along. In the game, one move could bring you three steps closer or move you three steps away from your goal.

"And do you think that Cersei will take mercy on you after she discovers it was you who killed her precious Joffrey? Given the recent circumstances, I think that highly unlikely. She may not kill you, she's smarter than that, if you tell her I said she was smart I will deny it, but she could do worse that this to Melara."

"You would have me still my hand and do nothing?"

"For now, yes. Jaime, you were only able to kill Aerys because you were in the right place at the right time with the right tools." Jaime knew when his brother was about to hatch something, it was a certain lift to his voice that always gave the Imp away. He cocked his head to the side to look at Tyrion and saw the smile that tugged at the Imp's mouth. Tyrion was hiding something, and Jaime wanted to know what.

"You are hiding something, brother."

"I am hiding a lot of things, Jaime. It's so much easier to slip things under someone's nose when you only come up to their waist." Tyrion had long ago accepted his weaknesses but it had taken him years after that before he could use them to his advantage. But Jaime was strong, skilled, handsome and rich. He had never had to deal with having any weaknesses, until Melara came into his life. Tyrion understood why his brother was acting the way he was, wanting nothing more than Joffrey's head rolling at his feet as well, but it would just make more problems for the pair other lovers. Tyrion felt pity for his brother and almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of the thought. A dwarf pitying the Knight. What strange new world we have entered. Jaime had not removed his accusing look from Tyrion, the dwarf put his hands in the air in a mock sign of surrender as he spoke. "Fine. I've been secretly plotting to remove Cersei from power and Joffrey from the Throne all while sneaking a woman in to fuck each night like it is my last. Oh, and I've also been going into the kitchens and spitting in Father's food. Childish, I know, but there is just something so satisfying in watching him eat and knowing that he's oblivious to what he puts in his mouth." Jaime let out a laugh despite himself at what his brother had admitted too. He didn't know which was more ridiculous, Tyrion trying to take power from Cersei or spitting in Tywin's food.

"So which is it you are missing? The right time, place or tools?" Melara let out a quiet moan and Jaime forgot about anything but her. The brothers sat in silence for a few moments, each willing the girl to open her eyes. When she did not, Jaime spoke again. His voice was no more than a whisper but his words cut through the silent room. "There is a way to de-throne Joffrey and strip Cersei of her power."

"Jaime, there are many ways but I've thought them all before. Each option leaves Cersei the opportunity to use her cunt to get out of whatever trouble she is given. Unless the Lady Brienne were to be involved, but even then—"

"I could stand before the court and declare the rumors true." There was only a few times when Tyrion could not find any words to speak that he could remember, and he would now be adding one more time to that very small list. What his brother spoke of would do the things that Tyrion so wanted to happen, but it would also condemn Jaime to death. The only noise in the room was the sound of the slightly labored breath of Melara for the next few moments until Tyrion had regained his thoughts.

"You could do that. But then Cersei, Joffrey, Tommen, Marcella, you. You will all be dead." Tyrion's face became grim, knowing that if Jaime did what he suggested it would be for the good of the realm. But it would not be good for anyone with the name Lannister. "And then Stannis would be recognized as the rightful King and he would kill the rest of us. Jaime, you know how much I like living. I very well can't enjoy life if Stannis has killed me."

"It would be the right thing to do."

"Yes, it would be. But Lannisters are not known for doing the right thing, are we." Tyrion stood at seeing his brother's tired eyes. Not once had he ever seen Jaime cry but he thought that when Jaime had walked into Sansa's rooms and Melara had been unconscious on the floor it would be the first. "Attend to your wife tonight, Jaime. Sleep beside her, hold her tenderly like you want to and when you awake with her in your arms, ask yourself if you could condemn yourself to death and forsake the love she hold for you. Because that is what you would be doing if you admitted the truth to the rumors." Tyrion left his brother and knew that Jaime had only been speaking out of anger. Jaime was smarter than to admit in front of everyone that the rumors of incest were actually truths. But Jaime had been known to do stupid things before like attacking Ned Stark, which led to the situation that everyone found themselves in at the moment. As Tyrion made his way back to his rooms he hoped that Melara would wake up soon, if only so that she could talk some sense into Jaime. He had a feeling that Melara's sweet words would be the only ones that Jaime would listen to now.

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Jaime woke the next morning with Melara in his arms, just as Tyrion said he would. After he had rested his thoughts were much more reasonable. Jaime had been known to go to extremes for the women that he loved, Bran Stark was once example, but he would never condemn himself. He was lost in his thoughts and enjoying the peace of the morning when a knock sounded at the door. The door opened just as Jaime had gotten out of bed to greet what he assumed would be a maid. He was instead met with the sight of Cersei standing before him.

"What are you doing here? Come to see if you could finish the job your son started?" Cersei gave him a bitter laugh before she responded.

"My son? Joff is as much your son as he is mine. Or have you tossed your children aside for your new bride as well." Jaime did not answer her, only turned his back on her and walked back towards the bed. He heard Cersei's quick footsteps on the floor before he felt her hand on his arm. He stopped his movements but he did not turn to face her. His sights were only set on Melara now. "He's told everyone that Melara attacked Sansa. Ser Boros was only doing what needed to be done to stop the girl who had become enraged."

"No one will believe that."

"Everyone will believe that." She turned him to face her and he did not resist. She thought that she still had a chance to get him to come back to her. She cupped his face in her hands, showing him a gentler side of her that he had never seen. "Joffrey is King and his word is the truth." He twisted his head out of her grip before he spoke.

"At one time, the Mad King's words were truths until I shoved a sword through him. I wonder just how truthful Joffrey's words would be if I did the same to him." Cersei drew her hand back and slapped Jaime, his head going to the side from the impact. He did not turn his head back to look at her as she spoke in a low, dangerous tone.

"He. Is. Your. Son. How dare you even suggest that you would kill him."

"That monster is not my son." He slowly brought his face back around to look at the woman he once loved. The woman he would have once killed for, and even had tried to. He felt no love for her in that moment, only pity and shame. Shame that he allowed himself to be seduced by Cersei's lies and by her body. He was disgusted with himself, and understood why Melara would never forgive him. Jaime didn't even know if he could forgive himself for his sins. His eyes met Cersei's. "He may have been born from my seed but you made him what he has become." She had tears in her eyes as she stormed from the room at Jaime words. She knew that her son was a monster, had admitted her fears to Tyrion of all people, but hearing the words from Jaime's mouth actually had hurt Cersei. She knew that it was just the Gods making her pay penance for her sins. At this point she had so many that she'd lost track of all the wrongs she had done. She was so far down the path to purgatory that even if she tried she could not find her way back.

Jaime's thoughts did not linger on his sister for much longer, hearing his wife shifting in their bed. When he made it back to her he expected her to be awake, but her eyes were still closed. He knelt on the floor next to the bed and took her hand in his. He needed to find a way to get Sansa and Melara away, but also needed a place to send them to. He only had two options, either Robb Stark's camp or he had to track down Stannis Baratheon and give the girls over to him. Whichever place Melara went, Jaime would not be able to follow.

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It was midday before the girl opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the pounding pain in her head. She couldn't remember the last time that she had felt such pain. At that moment, there wasn't much she could remember. She covered her eyes with her hand, her movements a big sluggish still.

"Best to move slowly, milady." She followed the unknown man's advice and slowly pulled her hand away from her face, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light. She turned her head but did not try to sit up, her body feeling as if she had been run over by wild boars. Maybe I was. The man who had spoken to her came closer and she truly did not recognize him. She tried very hard to recall if she had ever seen his face but her mind could not supply a name. From the looks of him she knew he wasn't a Knight or a Lord and he looked more like a bandit. She spoke to him from her lying position, her eyes half-opened and still not fully conscious.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Bronn." She tried to nod to acknowledge that she had heard him but ended up grimacing in pain. He didn't seem to mind that she ignored him. She opened her eyes fully for the first time and took in her surroundings. It was just her and Bronn inside the room but she saw that two chairs were pulled up to her bed. I wonder who had been sitting there? Her eyes landed onto her new companion and she questioned him once more.

"Alright then, Bronn. And…who am I?"

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Commence the pitchforks and torches.