After he had been chosen as king, Bran immediately elected to name Tyrion as his Hand. None were more astonished by the decision than Tyrion himself who suddenly became speechless, stuttering as he attempted to politely decline the office whilst staring in disbelief. "N-No, Your Grace, I don't want it." To this Bran smoothly noted that neither did he want to be king, implying that if he did not have a choice in the matter then neither would Tyrion. "I don't deserve it." He insisted, unable to think of anything he wanted less than to be conferred to a title that belonged to a better man than himself. "I thought I was wise, but I wasn't. I thought I knew what was right, but I didn't. Choose Ser Davos. Choose Princess Rhaena, even. Choose anyone else." All but begging, Bran continued to look upon Tyrion with a calm and unaffected manner.
"I choose you." Behind her, Rhaena sensed Grey Worm shifting unhappily, causing her mouth to twitch before focusing upon Tyrion who was still floundering, unable to use that golden tongue of his to talk his way out of a situation perhaps for the first time in his entire life.
"It is because of your faults that you deserve this appointment, my dearest little friend." She told him tenderly, with all the love and warmth in her heart she bore entirely for him. A pleading look was sent to her, but it melted against the embers of Rhaena's glow which finally began to reveal itself through the icy folds of her grief. "No one knows better than you the cost of failure and the consequence of mistakes. I told you that as punishment for your wrongdoings you would devote the remainder of your life to serving others. How better to fulfil that task than to serve as Hand of the King? Use all you have learned, take all you have experienced, and with it forge a better tomorrow than the one we lived today." Her words were enough to cause Tyrion to weep, his past shames and guilts shaking at his mind and rising like haunting nightmares until his brother's hand came to his shoulder. Beside him, Jaime told him that there truly was no one else who could do the job better, and that none were more deserving. Tyrion's tears fell thicker and swifter, but as they shed so did the feelings of guilt and darkness he carried within him, as if the tears were carrying them away little by little. With no option to refuse, Tyrion could only bow in acceptance and vow to fulfil his duties diligently and to the best of his capabilities.
Now with both a new King and Hand, the original reason for the gathering could then proceed. The trial of Jaime and Cersei Lannister. It was decided that they would be tried separately and time given to discuss everything that would be presented as evidence, though in truth little of it remained. It had either been burned, destroyed or the witnesses killed. Cersei had been exceedingly thorough in hiding the numberless transgressions she had committed. Seeing as Jaime was already present, the council began with him. In this, however, Bran returned the position of leadership to Rhaena herself, announcing that if anyone had the right to decide the fate of the eldest Lannisters, it was the one who had suffered personally at their hands. As Jaime looked upon the snow-haired woman before him, he felt his spirits sink further. All the while he had stood in attendance his chin had hardly lifted itself from his chest, so lowly did it hang. Now he raised it slightly and looked directly into the violet depths which would decide whether he was to hang or go to an executioner's block. "Ser Jaime of House Lannister, formerly Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. You stand accused of high treason. You are accused of regicide, incest, oath-breaking and more. You slew King Aerys, my father. You had carnal knowledge of your own sister and begot three children from her. You swore oaths and broke them as they pleased you. Numerous are your sins, Jaime Lannister. If you have anything to say in your own defence, or have evidence to prove your innocence, then now is the time to speak." His eyes once more became downcast, staring solely at his own boots.
"What is the point? You have already decided my guilt. It was decided years ago the day Aerys's blood wet my blade. Do you wish for me to grovel for my life? Have off my head and be done with it." Cussing softly under his breath, Jaime hid behind a wall of spite and defiance. It was all he had left, after all. He did not expect fairness nor mercy, so why should he beg for it? He would not lower himself to that level. Not for anyone. If he was to die, then he would do so with his pride still intact. "Yes, I murdered the king I swore to serve. Yes, I fucked my sister. I fucked her so many times I've lost count. Her three children were all mine. Joffrey. Tommen. And you…Myrcella. Even you." It was only Myrcella Jaime could bring himself to look upon, and when he saw her sweet face, his resolve crumbled a little, an expanse of emotion filling his chest as he gazed at her. So perfectly innocent. It amazed him even to this day how a child such as Myrcella had somehow been created between himself and Cersei. He a traitor and she full of spite. It truly was a miracle of the gods. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, Jaime continued. "I've killed scores and scores of men. Young and old. One was even my own cousin…I forget his name…so you see? There is no point in me telling you what you already know. So make your judgement. It is past time my sins caught up with me." Listening quietly as Jaime flung forth his confessions, Rhaena did not seize the opportunity to pass judgement. Rather, she continued to study him. Having known him for many years, Rhaena had come to know Jaime far more familiarly than even he knew. It came from years and years of silent study. Watching. Observing. Listening. To hear between the words and notice even the smallest gestures others might miss. Rhaena knew them all, and so as she looked upon Jaime Lannister, she knew that he was afraid, and that his callousness was his shield against the judgement of others.
"Princess, if I may speak?" Rising to her feet, Brienne could hold her tongue no longer. Even though Jaime had hurt her by leaving her in Winterfell, choosing to return to his sister, her own character refused to allow Jaime to continue this pathetic charade of his, not when she knew better. He spoke of dishonour and sinfulness, but Brienne knew him to harbour secrets, secrets that were long overdue to be shared to those whom it mattered. In her eyes, Princess Rhaena deserved to know the truth of her father and the reason why Jaime had killed him that fateful night. Nodding her head welcomingly, Rhaena gestured for Brienne to step forwards and speak her mind. "Ser Jaime's transgressions are true, I do not dispute them. However, there is a great deal more truth that he fails to tell us, and I would have it revealed now before any decision regarding his punishment be reached."
"You will speak as his witness then?" Firmly stating that she would, Rhaena again nodded to allow Brienne to continue. Standing still and straight upon the dais as she faced the lords and ladies in attendance, Brienne thought back to the time she and Jaime had been captives at Harrenhal, and the bath that they had shared. It had been there, in his fevered state, Jaime had revealed to her the truth concerning the night the Mad King had been slain, and although he was still guilty of treason and murder, refused to allow the honourable side of his actions remain unsung. And so she spoke in her simple, humble manner which proved just as powerful as elaborate expressions of rhetoric. No one could question Brienne's honour and truthfulness, so as she continued to narrate the tale that she herself had been told, no refute or disagreement was raised against her. She told them of the Mad King's love for buring his enemies with wildfire and how, when his insanity was at its peak, he had placed caches of wildfire throughout King's Landing in order to destroy it all. Brienne recounted how, when Tywin Lannister had arrived outside the gates, Jaime had attempted to persuade the Mad King to surrender as to end the bloodshed. Before she could proceed, Edmure interrupted her, questioning whether anyone else could attest to this claim.
"Indeed, I can." Varys spoke as he rose in order to present himself with a bow to his princess. "I was there myself and can confirm Ser Brienne's words. We both tried to convince Aerys to surrender himself and the city, but alas, how is one to reason with a man who had none left to him?" Sighing sadly, Varys seated himself once more. Brienne waited for the invitation to continue, Rhaena speaking kindly to her to proceed. Everyone knew that Aerys opened his gates to Tywin Lannister, so recollecting this part of the story was unnecessary, so Brienne swiftly moved forwards.
"After Lord Tywin had proved himself to have turned against Aerys, Ser Jaime told me how the king had ordered Jaime to bring him his father's head. To his pyromancer, the king ordered that the wildfire be lit. Had Jaime done nothing, the entire city would have burned. Not even this much would have remained. Yes, he killed the pyromancer and King Aerys that night, but it was not for a throne or for glory, but to save thousands and thousands of people who never knew that their own king would have watched them burn…then cast himself into the flames after them." A stunned silence followed Brienne's narrating, her hand resting upon the hilt of her sword, the sword Jaime had given her. Oathkeeper. It had always brought Brienne a sense of comfort to have it settled at her side, though now it felt heavier than it had done before. "My lords, my ladies…I believe these words to be true. I believe in Ser Jaime. We have fought together, side by side. He is not the same man he was before. He is honourable. He is good. Or at least, he tries to be. Whatever you decide, I shall forever be honoured to have known him, and shall never forget what he has done for this realm." Nodding firmly to signal that she had finished, Brienne strode back to her seat and promptly sat down whilst refusing to meet Jaime's shocked gaze. The last person he expected to speak on his behalf was Brienne, not after how he had abandoned her. It was a testament to her character, and once more Jaime felt the full force of his shame…and a degree of endearing warmth towards the giantess of a woman he had grown to admire and respect.
"If this is indeed true, why not speak of it before now?" Ser Davos questioned shrewdly, peering closely at Jaime who grit his teeth and attempted to maintain his composure. There was nothing he loathed more than the thought of these pompous, insufferable lords and ladies criticising him and his actions. He had lived so long with the resentment he had almost come to accept it, but still it stung to see that many of them still did not believe the truth even when delivered by the most honest person alive.
"Would you have believed me had I told you? Or any of you, for that matter. I killed Aerys. It makes no difference as to the reason. I killed the king I had sworn to protect with my life." Unable to resist any longer, Jaime finally forced himself to cast his eyes upon Rhaena only to find her a mask of emotionlessness. There was no anger, no sorrow or hurt. If anything, the closest expression Jaime could find in that peerless face was…puzzlement. It threw him slightly, not expecting her to react in such a manner, though it then served to only further his anxiousness to know her thoughts. Of everyone present, other than Brienne, it was Rhaena's opinion Jaime longed to know most of all. The others did not matter, and he now knew Brienne's mind concerning her attitude towards him, much as he did not deserve her favour, but with Rhaena…in his mind he could still see the child who often sobbed or ran, always hiding, always scurrying to find new places to hide, stealing food where she could and existing in a constant hell. Only she mattered in that moment, because Jaime had been the one to throw her into that life. Had he been a better man, stronger and more honourable, even after killing the king he should have protected her, even if it meant enduring his sister's wrath and Robert's fury. Rhaena was his greatest regret. Now, his life was in her hands.
The steady, unwavering look of her gaze proved to be Jaime's undoing, his body trembling increasingly until finally a tortured sob forced itself free and he fell to his knees. Tyrion started with concern and Sandor stepped away uncomfortably, but before anyone could react to the sudden outburst of weeping from the seemingly insurmountable Jaime Lannister, Rhaena had already risen from her chair. All held their breath to watch in raptured fascination as the princess who had once been less than a rat moved towards the man who had murdered her father and played a hand in the misery that thereafter followed. Due to his sobs Jaime had not noticed her approach, however when the hem of her deep indigo gown turned his watered vision dark, he had quietened. Her hand came to his face and curled under his chin, lifting it slowly and tenderly until Jaime was looking upon her face, where a silken sleeve was used to dab away at his tears. Jaime could not remember the last time someone had dried his face for him. Cersei never had. Whenever he had cried in front of her she had mocked and scorned him for being weak. This was utter softness and gentleness, so far from what his sister would have done that Jaime could not help but stare blankly as Rhaena began to speak directly to him. "You should have told me." She whispered as she brushed aside the locks of his hair from his face before they could take on the dampness of his tears. "You should have told me the truth."
"I should…I should have…but I could not." Tilting her lips into a smile, Rhaena gravely nodded her head, wearing her sadness splendidly.
"You always were one to carry everything on your shoulders, Ser Jaime. Perhaps now you might learn to lessen your burdens." Releasing him, Rhaena stepped back and began to consider, walking back and forth as her mind weighed every word that had been spoken, every action Jaime had ever made, and everything else in between. Finally, she came to a halt and raised her head, the resoluteness of her stature signifying that she had come to a decision. "Ser Jaime of House Lannister. Stand to receive your sentence." Grasping him by the arm, Sandor quickly hauled Jaime to his feet in order to have this over with more swiftly. He was tiring of standing there listening to others debate over nonsense. Just have their heads and be done with it. "Considering the magnitude of your sins, it is impossible to allow you to live without punishment. Your actions have affected thousands and have led to just as many deaths in the chaos which followed my father's usurpation." Steeling himself against the inevitable, Jaime listened with his eyes once more fixated upon his boots. "And yet," it was Rhaena's pause which caused Jaime to flinch, so ready for death that he did not anticipate that death might not be his punishment. "And yet you have also committed acts which have saved tens of thousands. Millions. Nameless and uncountable in their measure. You fought in the Great War to hold back the armies of the undead. You saved the city of King's Landing from destruction and devastation, as well as the inhabitants from burning in their beds and suffering a cruel end. You have proven yourself wiser than your youth and humbler than your beginnings. It is also true that you have shown many kindnesses, including towards myself when I was still captive here under Robert. These actions, in my opinion, far outweigh the number of your sins." Finally turning her face to meet his, Rhaena gave Jaime his first genuine and dazzling smile he had ever received from her. "If I can bring myself to forgive you, then no one else may hold an excuse not to either. Here is my sentence, Ser Jaime of House Lannister. Kneel." Still stunned and quite lost for words, it took a moment for Jaime to realise that he had been given an instruction.
Hesitantly he lowered himself to one knee before the little dragon who was not quite so little anymore. She towered above him, her silver coronet glinting with black diamonds and amethysts, her flowing garments draping her form in elegance and simplicity. Excessive silk, lace and jewels were not necessary for Rhaena Targaryen, Jaime thought to himself as she drew Whitefyre from its scabbard and held it confidently in her hand. This woman was a queen beyond all queens. She did not require a crown or a throne. Queenship was in her presence, her grace and actions. Had she taken the throne for herself, then Jaime believed that Westeros would have had their greatest leader from the first to the very last, whenever that might be. He watched her, fascinated as she brought the broadside of her blade to come to rest against his right shoulder, tapping him lightly. "In the name of Princess Rhaena of House Targaryen, I name you Ser Jaime 'Trueknight' Lannister, the People's Justice." As the words fell upon him, Jaime felt he might crumble before her as Rhaena lifted her sword and touched it against his left shoulder. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent. Carry your honour with you from this day until your last day, and let it guide your sword and your actions, to judge for yourself what is right and just. Arise, Ser Jaime Trueknight. A knight of the Seven Kingdoms. Let the name Kingslayer be forgotten, now and forever." When the last touch to his shoulder came, Jaime felt a powerful force rush through him, as if he himself were born anew. With a new name, Jaime rose to his feet and stared at the princess as if she had gone mad. This time, however, there was no madness in her.
"Is it true? This is my punishment?"
"Your punishment is one you already inflict upon yourself. Each and every day you have tormented yourself because of your actions and you will continue to do so until your very last. That is punishment enough, I think." Inclining her head with a bow of acknowledgement, Rhaena made to turn away but her arm was caught by Jaime's hand, snatching hold of her so sharply that Sandor growled and let his hand fly to his sword, pausing only when Jaime did nothing more than fall to his knee once again.
"In that case, it is only right I make amends to those I have wronged, and who have I wronged more than you? I ask you to let me try to make right the wrongs I have done to you. I would offer you my sword…but I seem to have mislaid it somewhere." Taken aback by Jaime's sudden spout of sincerity, Rhaena gaped at him silently as he continued to kneel before her. She had known him to commit some very rash and foolhardy actions in the past, often without taking the opportunity to think them over, however as Rhaena stared down at him, she had never seen Jaime more determined in anything before. "I do not jest in this. It is what honour demands."
"Do you say this because you know it is the honourable thing to do, or because you yourself wish for it?" Recovering herself, Rhaena turned back to the renewed knight as she sheathed her blade. Managing a wry smile, Jaime accepted that this decision might be an unbelievable one considering his past character, but he was a changed man, and had changed many times over. If nothing else, he wanted to live trying to be better, striving to be the type of knight he had always admired. Ser Barristan Selmy, Arthur Dayne…there were many who had come before him, greater and better than himself. If he could, Jaime wanted to try and redeem himself to be worthy enough to stand amongst their number in history. Even if it meant sacrificing everything else, even Cersei, it was what Jaime wanted. It was clear Cersei would never change. Given half a chance, it was more than likely that she would sacrifice Jaime merely for the slimmest chance of climbing back to power. He would love her, he always would, but Jaime was finally free of her, and it was the most liberating feeling he had ever felt. Thus, with his mind firmly made, he bowed his head before Rhaena and began to speak the oath.
"I offer my services to you, Princess Rhaena of House Targaryen. I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New." For several heart thundering moments, Rhaena did not answer. Jaime did not allow himself to look up. This was a humble act, and so he kept his head bowed until finally, he heard the sweet sound of Rhaena's response.
"And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table, and I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonour. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New. Arise." Extending her hand to him, Rhaena once more raised Ser Jaime up from the ground reformed and reborn, breathless in his relief as he looked to her in gratefulness. He murmured to her, quieter than a whisper so that no one else could hear him, two simple words which bore a heartful of meaning. Thank you. Allowing a smile, Rhaena brushed her hand to Jaime's cheek before indicating he should take his position at her side where he would now and forever belong. It was the first day of a new life for Jaime Lannister, where he intended to serve faithfully for as long as he was able to fulfil the oath he should have kept from the very moment of her birth. To guard and protect her from harm, no matter who the enemy. From Cersei. From undead soldiers. And yes…even from herself.