Chapter 2

For years Daenerys Targaryen had wondered what she would do if she ever came in contact with the man who had murdered her father. Jaime Lannister. He'd been barely more than a boy at the time; a young man of seven-and-ten — only two years younger than Dany was now — yet he'd still been capable of killing a king. How many men and women had Dany had put to their deaths since beginning her reign? Her brother Viserys made the first, Mirri Maz Durr the second, and Xaro Xhoan Daxos and Doreah the third and fourth. Though only the second had been done by her own hand, she'd given the orders that took all the rest of their lives. Since then, countless more had been added to that list; people whose names she would never know.

Were they really so different, she and the Kingslayer?

"Your Grace," Missandei spoke softly, gently lifting Dany from her thoughts of fire and blood. "It is time."

Wringing her hands, Daenerys took a deep breath in order to calm herself, but still her fingers shook. Although she had felt many emotions during the years she'd spent imagining the day she'd meet her father's killer, she'd never thought that fear could become one of them.

Dany rose and made her way to the throne room. Upon entering, she met Daario Naharis' piercing gaze as he stood behind Jaime Lannister. On his knees, the Kingslayer hung his head. The blood from the wounds her men had given him had soaked through the chest of his tunic, leaving a dried brown crust of remembrance. His golden hair hung down his face, reaching just to his cheek bones; a dark beard covering the edge of his angular jaw from weeks spent without a proper shave. But beneath the blood, dirt and hair Dany could see that the man before her was beautiful. He was still the man all the ballads had been written for; the most dangerous and most handsome man in all of Westeros. Hair as blonde as wheat, eyes as green as emeralds . . . and yet all Dany could see was the man who had stolen her childhood.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, you have the honor of Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Anadals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, Queen of Meereen and the Mother of Dragons."

Quite the mouthful for such a small girl, Jaime mused, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from speaking these words aloud.

Slowly raising his head, the Kingslayer caught a glimpse of the legendary Dragon Queen from the light of the candles that burnt amongst the marble pillars surrounding them. She was just as beautiful as the rumors stated; a woman to start wars for. Where Aerys' features had been hard, Daenerys' were soft, yet they still had the same eyes — a mesmerizing blue with golden flecks, and the same silver-gold hair that the Targaryens were known for. No, Jaime thought once more. There was kindness there. She has her mother's eyes. There was no denying it, this was no impostor; Daenerys was a Targaryen through and through. But Jaime had to wonder for the second time that day; did the same madness her father possessed run in her veins as well?

"You may approach."

Shaking the guards off at his sides, Jaime staggered forward on weak, cramped legs. After spending so much time trapped in the dungeons he'd been forced to curl his long limbs up into a variety of uncomfortable positions that he was now paying dearly for. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Tyrion looking away, clearly embarrassed for his brother. The words his younger brother had shared with him the previous day still rung in his ears all too clearly.

"Funny how circumstances can change so quickly."

Jaime had spent his entire life pitying his baby brother, watching as he waddled throughout the castle on stunted legs. Now it seemed it was his turn to be pitied.

"Your Grace," Jaime began, stretching out his arms as far as the shackles would allow. "My travels were long, I thank you for treating me with such kind hospitality."

Remaining by Daenerys' side, Tyrion winced at his brother's insolence as the halls of the throne room grew still and quiet.

"Why is it you've come here?" Daenerys questioned, ignoring the brazen Kingslayer's slight.

"I mean to travel."

"This is not a game, ser. I demand to know the truth."

The truth, Jaime smirked. Well, there's a first time for everything.

"As you wish, my lady."

"She is not your lady," Ser Barristan Selmy broke in suddenly from his place beside the queen. Even from where he stood beneath the dozen steps in front of him, Jaime could see the steel in the old man's eyes as clear as day. "She is your queen."

The last Jaime had heard of the old knight, he'd been sent away on Joffrey's command so that Jaime could take his place as Captain of the Kingsguard. For that reason, he knew Selmy's hatred towards him was more personal than anything else. Barristan the Bold. Even way back when, Selmy had never approved of Jaime's presence in his precious Kingsguard. Before Robert's Rebellion, the old knight thought Jaime too young and inexperienced — afterward, he had often been heard to say that the Kingslayer should exchange his white cloak for a black one.

"Silence," Dany chided. After a brief exchange with Ser Barristan, she brought her attention back to Jaime. "Do you deny killing my father?"

"No."

"Do you regret killing my father?"

"No."

"You swore an oath to protect him, yet you betrayed him by breaking that solemn vow."

"I swore a great many oaths the day I took the White. Protecting your father was merely one of them."

"And you felt there was an oath of more importance?" Dany demanded, her voice shaking as the suggestion had her anger mounting.

"Protecting the innocent." Jaime replied swiftly.

Daenerys shot Jaime a measured look, unsure of just what to make of his words. She'd heard tales of her father's madness near the end of his reign certainly, but had never known the truth of what went on during that time. Viserys had never been a reliable source and her counselors had tip-toed around the subject here and there, but deep down Dany knew there was much they had left unsaid.

"After all," Jaime shrugged his filthy shoulders. "They didn't call him the Mad King for nothing—"

Before another word could be said, strong arms swung through the air as Daario Naharis delivered a heavy backhand to the side of Jaime's face, causing the Kingslayer to fall to his knees once more. Both chuckling and coughing from the impact of the blow, Jaime spit out a mouthful of blood onto the marble floor, his teeth stained red as he looked to Daenerys once more, his smile cutting like a knife.

"Was it something I said?"

With a brief shake of her head, Dany discouraged Daario from continuing with violence. Although she could not find much sympathy within her to offer the Kingslayer, it had never been her idea of justice to have a man beaten while he was already down.

"Tommen, the one they call 'the Boy King;' the one who currently sits the Iron Throne. Is he the true heir of Robert Baratheon, or your bastard son?"

Jaime eyed Daenerys closely. Well, she certainly wasn't wasting any time. In fact, her words reminded him of an encounter that had taken place nearly a year ago when he'd been held prisoner in the Stark's camp. Catelyn Stark had approached him the night she'd learned of her husband's execution; an execution that Joffrey had ordered to be seen through. He could recall how exhausted she looked; how destroyed, and yet the poor woman had only two questions for him. Why? Why had Jaime seen fit to push her son Bran out of that window? How? How could he have done such a thing?

Of course, the reason was Cersei. One way or another, Jaime's reasoning always led back to Cersei. He had spent his entire life devoted to doing anything to protect her, and in doing so, anything to protect their secret. He couldn't tell Lady Stark the truth that night, but times had since changed. The truth was his secrets were no longer his secrets; no longer of value, at least not to him. He knew that what he said next would likely condemn both he and Cersei to their deaths, yet he also knew their fates had long since been sealed. Joffrey was dead, Myrcella was just as good as dead, and Tommen . . . Tommen could never rule. Perhaps it was best to put an end to his family's so-called legacy once and for all.

The thought nearly made him choke with laughter. To think what had happened to Tywin Lannister's legacy, a legacy that his children had successfully shat all over.

"Tommen is my son, Joffrey was as well. Myrcella is my daughter. They are all of mine and Cersei's kin."

See you in the Seven Hells, sweet sister.

"And how is it that you can so easily betray your sister — your lover — by providing me with this information?"

"I'm merely speaking the truth; a truth that you and many others came to realize quite some time ago."

"So you admit to siring these illegitimate heirs in defiance of all the laws of gods and men?"

Jaime hesitated, a clever retort dancing on his tongue. Had the Targaryens not wed brothers and sisters for centuries past? Had it not been rumored that Viserys would have taken Daenerys as a wife had it not been for his last minute decision to wed her to Khal Drogo in his failed attempt to gain an army? Jaime knew that one of the many things a knight of the Kingsguard must learn was the guarding of his tongue. Among all the skills he had mastered however, that had never been one of them.

Until now, it seemed.

"I do."

"Do you think you will be rewarded for your truth — pardoned for your countless other crimes?"

"If it please, Your Grace."

"And what makes you think you're worth anything to me?" Dany exclaimed, her patience quickly diminishing with each one of this man's arrogant retorts.

And there it was. His bargaining chip. Although no one would ever believe him after being named the Kingslayer, there had been a time when Jaime had been closer to Aerys Targaryen than his own father. Loyalty meant everything to him and despite what everyone liked to think, Jaime had remained loyal to the Mad King throughout the majority of his service. He had warned Aerys of Tywin's plans; warned him not to trust his father. His position in the Kingsguard had all begun as a way to be closer to Cersei, but Jaime had also taken his duty seriously. He even enjoyed the company of the Mad King's son, Rhaegar Targaryen; even thought of him as an older brother at times. More than that, Jaime had depended on Rhaegar; believed in him when he'd said he would see to it that things would change when he returned from the Trident. But Rhaegar had been murdered by Robert Baratheon and never returned, which left Jaime to do the only thing left to be done: Kill King Aerys before he slaughtered thousands of men, women and children.

Looking to Tyrion, Jaime did not miss the desperate look in his baby brother's eyes as he glared at him from his place beside the Dragon Queen. Jaime couldn't care less what happened to him, but he didn't want to put Tyrion through anymore than he'd already suffered. Nodding slowly, he recalled the words that Tyrion had recited to him earlier when he'd told him this was the only way Daenerys would let him live.

"I spent years by your father's side and lived to tell the tale. I can educate you on how he ruled — I can help make you better."

"How dare you even think to suggest—" Daario began harshly, but was quickly cut off once more by his queen.

Raising a small, delicate hand, Daenerys silenced the leader of the Second Sons with a deadly look in her eyes. Jaime watched as a silent, albeit heated exchange passed between Daenerys and the member of her Queensguard. There was anger there, disagreement certainly, but there was also a look of lust that could not be mistaken.

"Ser Barristen Selmy stands on my council. He was Captain of my father's Kingsguard for many years. What makes you think you could offer me anything more than he could?"

"Because while Selmy was out fighting your father's war for him, I was the one Aerys kept close. I was the one who saw . . . who heard . . . everything."

Jaime could recall the years he'd spent on her father's Kingsguard as if they had merely taken place a fortnight ago. The horrors he'd witnessed, standing outside King Aerys' bed chambers while the man raped his wife Rhaella over and over again. Those were horrors he would never forget; shameful memories he would relive until the day he died. The only way Jaime had been able to live through it was to go into himself. He'd disappear, attempting to ignore his reality in order to continue with his day to day; serving the king. It was one of his largest regrets, and yet another reason why he was beginning to think that perhaps he might owe something to this young queen after all.

Daenerys' advisors were quick to offer their counsel.

"Your Grace, surely you can't be entertaining the idea of allowing the Kingslayer to walk away from such a wicked offense," Ser Barristan muttered in her ear.

"His death would be the perfect example to show the people of Meereen what the Mother of Dragons does to those who betray her," Daario declared loudly as he mounted the steps to stand beside his queen.

Dany felt an intense wave of heat and pressure building up behind her eyes as she contemplated each man's advice. Jaime Lannister was her father's murderer, but that did not make his words any less true. He was the only living person who was like to know whom her father had truly been, perhaps even what had caused his descent into madness. This made her have a connection to the Kingslayer, whether she wanted one or not.

"And why would you willingly do that? How do you profit?"

An honest question; a just question. Perhaps it was the guilt that had stayed with him over the years when he'd learned his father had been the one to give the order that left Elia Martell raped and murdered; her young children's heads dashed across the marble floor. Perhaps it was an attempt at penance for throwing Brandon Stark out of that window in Winterfell. Or perhaps it was only because he didn't want to disappoint his little brother the way the rest of their family had. Whatever the reason, he couldn't help but notice that there was a slight longing that hadn't been there before.

"I will have peace of mind."

Those were easily six of the most unlikely words that Daenerys had ever expected to hear from her enemy's lips. Truly at a loss to find her own, Dany looked to Tyrion for guidance but found that her new advisor was just as much at a loss for words as she was. She did not, however, miss the desperate look in his eyes as he pleaded with her not to be rash; to not kill his brother. Since Tyrion had joined her council, Dany had found a great many things to admire the man for, but holding his tongue in her presence while his own brother's life swayed in the balance had to top them all.

Her decision was made.

"Ser Barristan, please escort Ser Jaime back to his cell. See that he has fresh food and water."