Author's Notes: Good day, my wonderful readers! I hope this chapter finds you well! As ever and always, thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to follow this story. It is greatly motivating and cheering to have such a hungry audience. You're the best!

Thank you, as well, Catzrko0l, for your continued loyalty to this project. Your diligence is much appreciated!

On a separate note, I used a website called artbreeder to create likenesses for the OCs David, Cyrus, and Delphine. If you're interested in seeing them, you can find them at all of the social media links below!

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Chapter 94

Jaime XXXII

He had spent the morning coordinating the Lannister soldiers with his Uncle Gerion, Ser Addam Marbrand, and David to neutralize the wildfire. Uncle Gerion was sent with a few of the Shepherds and soldiers to quarry out the necessary sand and clay. Ser Addam and David were to see to the safe removal of all of the caches. The bubbling fear Jaime had lived with for nearly twenty years, sleeping over the wildfire caches, was finally about to dissipate.

Jaime should have felt relief, but it was mixed with disgruntlement. Aemon had insisted they hold a celebratory feast and he expected Jaime to spill his secret. It was Jaime's hope that Aemon would simply spill it for him, but nothing could be that easy. And he wasn't about to deny an order from his king.

The feast was to be held that very night. Aemon decided that the activity of the soldiers would spark enough curiosity that the secret of the wildfire could not be kept any longer, but Jaime disdained feasts. Not as much as I disdain working with parchment, he thought bitterly. Now that the strategy had been decided upon, he needed to write it up into orders for the king to sign. In the interim, Aemon had already granted them permission to start neutralizing the wildfire post haste, which Jaime was more than happy to oblige.

A delicate knock sounded at the door. "M'lord, Lady Delphine wishes to speak with you."

Jaime frowned. He hadn't spoken with the lady since the night of the coup. All of the Shepherds had acted coldly toward him ever since Vicente's death, but Lady Delphine was well-bred enough to hide it in public spaces. He hoped this wasn't a lecture, but he couldn't think of a reason she would need to visit.

"Let her in," he said.

Lady Delphine glided in, her face carefully composed. She wore a vibrant reddish-pink dress trimmed with yellow and layered in red, perfectly kempt as usual. "My lord," she said and dipped her head.

"What can I do for you, Lady Delphine?"

"With the call for the celebratory feast tonight, rumors are flying around the Red Keep that Princess Daenerys has accepted King Aemon's proposal of marriage. Is that true?" As per usual, her voice was an even and calm blue.

"Unless it happened within the last hour, it is not true. The celebratory feast is for … what David has accomplished."

"I see," Lady Delphine said. "I shall make attempts to set the record straight."

Jaime raised his eyebrows at her. "Now why would you do that?"

"I feel for the poor girl. Her back is straight, her head is high, but her eyes are that of a frightened lamb. I have not met her personally, but her story has been making the rounds. If even half of it is true, I feel for her suffering. It is clear she is keen not to suffer anymore. She deserves the space to make her decision without the pressure a crowd can bring."

Jaime snorted. "I would be careful about calling her a frightened lamb. That 'poor girl' has fire, and I'm not talking about her dragons."

"True enough," Lady Delphine said. "It would take someone with fire to survive her circumstances. Very well, I shall leave you to your work." She turned to depart.

"Wait," Jaime began and she turned, her head cocked in curiosity. "Would you be willing to do me a favor?"

"That would depend on the favor, my lord."

"As I'm sure you're aware, Lord Tarth has given his blessing. Lady Brienne and I will wed in about three weeks' time."

"I had heard, my lord. Congratulations." The tone and pitch of Lady Delphine's voice did not change, but she remained pleasantly open.

"I am sending a seamstress to measure her for her wedding dress. Lady Brienne is formidable in all ways except in the ways of a noble lady. She thinks it impossible for her to look beautiful, especially in a dress. I want you there to ensure the seamstress abides by her wishes," Jaime said. His own voice shifted from a calm blue to one tinged with red just at the thought.

Lady Delphine actually smiled. "I would be glad to, my lord. When is the fitting?"

"In two days before lunch."

"Lady Brienne has been a godsend in the training of my daughter. It would be poor of me to not help her in her time of need. Fear not, my lord," Lady Delphine finished and stepped out.

Jaime wistfully stared after her. She was much like Lady Joanna, he thought. Having since relived nearly half of his life, his memories of his mother were faded. He had a vague picture of kind green eyes and a cascade of golden hair. Her face had long faded away, but he remembered her warmth and kindness. He's certain she would have fought his father for punishing him for every mispronounced word he had attempted to read. Much like Lady Delphine, he remembered his mother could be severe when needed, hearkening back to the time she had caught him and Cersei exploring their bodies. He ignored the twinge of nausea the thought dredged up.

He forced himself to refocus on the parchment in front of him as he carefully wrote every word.

|-The Dragon's Roar-|

Jaime kept his eyes on the table in front of him, examining the grain, attempting to ignore the low rumble of hundreds of voices crowded in the hall. A variety of green and blue colors swirled around him from those closest to him. Everyone else's voices at the feast faded to the curling smoke of gray since he could not hear them well enough to catch their true colors.

Never thought Aemon would be so bold, he thought as his eyes flickered to Princess Daenerys. She was seated on one side of the king and Jaime was seated on the other as his guest of honor. After being unable to stand the sight of him upon her arrival, Jaime could only imagine her struggle to stay composed sitting so close. At the moment, the two were deep in conversation. It looked like a team effort: Aemon was trying to distract her from Jaime's presence and she was ignoring him as best she could.

Would she be able to get past the fact that he refused to regret murdering her father? Jaime remembered from the time before that Daenerys had gone out of her way to avoid him then as she did now. Aemon had only learned after her death about the wildfire underneath King's Landing; he had lamented Daenerys never knowing the truth. It had caused a fissure in their friendship for a short time before the shared hopelessness had pushed them past it.

He knew Daenerys had great concern for the people: the young, the old, the helpless. He wanted to believe that she would understand, but until he saw for himself, he doubted. Aemon was convinced she would understand, so Jaime had to follow his lead, no matter his uncertainty.

"Are you well?" Brienne whispered to him in a cautionary yellow.

Jaime smiled at her. "I'm fine."

She frowned tersely but did not press the issue. In the time that they spent together, Jaime had explained in greater detail the things that seemed to bring on his seizures, a cacophony of noises being one of them. The seizures were never a sudden malady. It was like a wave that continued to build and build before it crashed upon the rocks. He didn't think he would be able to avoid a seizure that night, but Aemon was aware he would be excusing himself early at the very possibility.

They were waiting for the servants to finish placing dishes for the guests. Once they were done they filed out quietly. The only servants left stood at the sides with pitchers of wine, ready to refill cups with a snap of the fingers. Aemon stood and the hubbub immediately ceased, making Jaime sigh with relief.

"Welcome to this celebratory feast! I am pleased to inform you that you will finally learn the truth, the reason behind why Lord Jaime Lannister felt he had to stop King Aerys II," he announced.

The silence was nearly deafening. Jaime met Brienne's eyes to find them wide and her mouth open in shock. Jaime allowed himself to give Aemon a glare as the king sat once more and gestured to him to pick up where he left off.

Jaime inhaled deeply and rose to his feet, feeling the age of two lifetimes bearing down upon him. His eyes roved over the attending nobility, who were all rapt with attention.

"As you well know, my father sacked King's Landing in preparation for handing it over to Robert Baratheon. When he arrived at the gates with the Lannister army, Grand Maester Pycelle advocated for him to be let in. He said that Lord Tywin was a dear old friend returning to protect the king. I knew my father better and argued otherwise. King Aerys believed Pycelle and allowed the Lannister army to enter. I suppose you can imagine the king's rage upon seeing the sacking."

Jaime paused a moment to collect his thoughts and continued. "King Aerys ordered me to kill my father and bring him his head." He was surprised to hear gasps from a few, but even in the south it was considered the greatest shame to be a kinslayer. He was glad King Aemon had stayed his hand from killing Cersei back in Winterfell or no one would have wanted to even look at him.

"The king then turned to the Grand Master of the Alchemists' Guild, who was also his new Hand of the King, and said to him, 'Burn them all. Burn them in their homes, burn them in their beds. Burn them all.' You see, over the course of the rebellion, King Aerys and Lord Rossart had hatched a plan to store caches of wildfire beneath King's Landing. If you're not aware, wildfire is volatile. Lighting the caches would've destroyed the whole city. Everyone in it. I decided that a king should never have such power. I killed Lord Rossart and then I turned my sword on King Aerys. And that is that," he finished and sat down, staring around once more for anyone daring to contradict him.

Brienne entwined her fingers with his and whispered, "I can't imagine having to choose between my king or my people. Or even my father! You did the right thing."

Jaime smiled at her. It was a glimpse once more at the Brienne he remembered from the time before. He had always hoped it would be the case, but a small part of him was terrified that this tale would change Brienne's mind about marrying him. Perhaps it even changed a few more minds among the nobility, not that he cared. However, he had enjoyed everyone being forced to give him respect as Hand of the King, dispensing with kingslayer as soon as it was made clear that it was a title he wouldn't tolerate.

"Thank you, Lord Lannister," Aemon said, standing once again. "Yes, I did know the truth behind my grandfather's slaying. The caches of wildfire have been sitting undisturbed under King's Landing until now. The Healer and leader of the Shepherds, David Reeft, has been working diligently to come up with a solution to neutralize this destructive potion, and he has finally found it. Over the next few weeks, he and our soldiers will be working hard to neutralize it. The city will be threatened no more. Thank you, Lord Lannister, for your service to the people. Now, please enjoy the rest of the feast!"

As if Aemon had broken a spell, the murmuring struck up once more. Jaime could now see yellows, oranges, and reds intermixed with the gray, like sparks of fire.

It wasn't in Jaime's nature to feel embarrassment; he normally basked in glory, but he felt his ears go warm and he nodded at King Aemon. He had been holding the secret for so long that it was difficult to believe he had just spoken it aloud for the world to hear. For so long, particularly in his previous life, he was shamed for the incident by the epithet of kingslayer. He had been forced to hide his anger, pretending to revel in the nasty reputation since it lent him ferocity, but it burned him that he should be shamed for doing the right thing. Although there was relief at finally unburdening himself, the anger that he had bottled up was starting to bubble under the surface.

"Lord Lannister?"

How fitting, Jaime thought, indulging himself to affix a glare onto Ned Stark.

"Yes, Lord Stark?"

If it was at all possible, the quiet wolf still looked stunned from the revelations and he licked his lips from nerves. His voice was a shaking yellow as he spoke, "I-ahem-I would like to apologize. I had no idea that's why you killed the king. That is an incredibly difficult position to be in, but I cannot argue that you didn't make the right choice. You have my gratitude."

Jaime remained silent. He wished nothing more than to lash out and rip Lord Stark to shreds for his hasty judgment and careless words so long ago. He drew in a large breath, ready to launch forward when Brienne put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jaime," she whispered.

He tamped down the anger once more and finally said, "Thank you, Lord Stark."

Judging by Lord Stark's grimace, he understood the bite in the words. Nothing was forgiven or forgotten. Lord Stark gave him a hesitant nod before moving on.

Jaime hadn't expected a line, but he was surprised when his Uncle Gerion stepped up next. They stared at each other for a moment and then Gerion said, "I'm proud of you. My brother worked so hard to stamp out your honor, to make you disdain it. You stood strong. Well done."

The deep calm blue of his uncle's voice washed over him and it calmed the festering anger. Jaime's mouth twitched into a smile, feeling an overwhelming surge of emotion. His father had never once told him he was proud of him. "Thank you, Uncle."

Ser Addam followed. Ever since they had entered adulthood, he had not seen his friend appear anything less than confident and self-assured. But words seemed to fail him as he tried to speak several times. Finally, he said, "You saved my life that day. I had no inkling of the danger. I am indebted to you."

"Addam, please … I don't accept your debt."

His friend just shook his head. "Doesn't matter. It's there and I will always remember it. You have my loyalty to the end of my days."

Jaime scowled at him, but neither had any more to say, so Addam walked away. Lady Margaery apparently dragged her husband with her to give a heartfelt thanks for his service. Robb Stark mumbled something in return, but he appeared troubled. He finished with a nod and they left. More people started coming up to him, most he didn't know or recognize. They congratulated him for the king's favor or even for killing the king, which soured Jaime's mood further. It wasn't long before a headache began building between his eyes. He finally turned to Brienne and said, "Apologies, but I must retire."

"I will bring you a plate," she said softly.

He turned to Aemon who gave him an understanding nod. Jaime noticed Daenerys just beyond him appeared to be staring deeply into her plate and seeing nothing. She didn't seem to notice the food at the end of her fork. No doubt, she was likely the most aggrieved at hearing the news.

Once outside, Jaime breathed the evening air in deeply, listening to the quiet chirp of the insects. His headache diminished and his anger leaked away now that he'd left the overwhelming noise of the feast. Westeros now knew his secret, and, although he felt better, it changed little if anything at all. It did not change him. It did not change the years he spent in deep resentment. He wondered if he would ever be able to let go of an anger that had been his closest companion since that fateful day.