A/N: Currently waiting for a final decision on something major soon, so hope that works out well.

Davos did not expect to find himself with his hands and feet bound, the crew loaned to him by Jaenyra become prisoners, and the boat he used to enter the Slaver's Bay be tied to the back of a Yi-Tish ship and towed to wherever they were going. What made his situation more uncomfortable was that he was lying on his belly and the captain of the ship, a Yi-Tish man with a thin black mustache and his hair tied in a bun, was using his back as a place to rest his feet on.

Davos felt his throat dry. He knew that asking for wine would be too much given his predicament. "Whoever you are, may I have some water?"

One of the officers, clearly one directly under the captain, pounded his sword's sheath in front of Davos' face. "No talking!"

Davos looked up at the man. "You know how to speak the common tongue of Westeros after all."

In response, the officer walked up to one of Davos' crew, all of whom were tied around the main mast of the Yi-Tish ship. Using his sheath as a blunt object, he hit down on the man, causing a gash on his forehead and knocking him out while blood leaked from it.

"Why did you do that?" Davos found himself shocked at how thuggish the officer was being.

The officer then unsheathed his sword and put it right on his neck. "One more word from your mouth, we are throwing you overboard. Let us if you can swim with one good hand, and with a weight tied to your legs."

Davos was not afraid of swimming, since he had survived the wildfire explosion in the Blackwater Bay. However, he was quite fearful of the prospect of drowning and the officer looked like someone who made promises instead of threats. That was when Davos decided to keep his mouth shut, even though he needed just one drop of water.

A few days ago, Davos and the crew arrived at the southern end of the Isle of Cedars. The plan was to rest and resupply on the shores for a few days before they would continue onwards towards Meereen, provided that they could slip past or outrun any of the tigers' vessels sailing in the area.

But when dawn broke on the second day that they were camping on the shore, they were rudely awoken by the sound and then force of a projectile landing close to them. Davos and the crew got up from their slumber and readied themselves to fight, expecting a tiger vessel and their crew to charge at them. However, they found a Yi-Tish ship with a sail with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen but in the color of jade. Davos knew that it was Yi-Tish he had seen one such ship back in his smuggling days and he knew that jade was a prominent color in the Land of a Thousand Cities. The ship gave off an impression of a warship and Davos remembered that the Land of a Thousand Cities was a place of unparalleled technology and innovation.

"Orders?" one of the crewmen asked Davos.

He had not expected to see a Yi-Tish junk appear and he had enough experience to know that combat should not be pursued as first option with unknown people.

"Keep your weapons up, but do not fight them unless they give us a reason to."

Two boats came from the boat, with Davos counting sixteen men on each. They landed right next to their fireplace, with the Yi-Tish drawing their swords and aiming sticks made of wood and metal at them.

One of the officers, given his air of authority, stepped forward and spoke in the Volantene variant of Valyrian. Davos did not understand it, which he expressed by shaking his head. Rolling his eyes, the officer pulled out a smaller stick, which he aimed at the pot. What happened next was after it was lit, the pot was shot off of the skewer while the skewer itself snapped in two. Davos and the crew were startled, but they could guess that the other sticks aimed at them were capable of doing exactly that. Getting the message after the officer pulled out another and aimed it at Davos' head, they dropped their weapons. What followed next was them being beaten up and their limbs bound.

Davos never encountered armed Yi-Tish men before, but he did not expect them to be merciless. They were starved and were denied water, with even one word of complaint dealt with severely. And only a few of the Yi-Tish men could speak the common tongue of Westeros, while the captain clearly understood but chose not to speak it. Temperamental man, that one.

On the fourth day that they had prisoners, Davos was feeling much weaker and was feeling something that he had not felt since the wildfire was ignited.

"If you are going to kill us, just do so. But if not, we need food and water," Davos pleaded.

The officer spoke to the captain in their tongue, which led to Davos and the crew finally getting smoked fish and water. Of course, their limbs were still bound and they were more or less had had to experience their rations being pushed down their throats. For Davos, he coughed when the water came too fast through his mouth.

"Now, be quiet." The officer pushed his finger against his chest. "Your fate will be decided tomorrow."

"By whom?"

"By the dragon prince himself, of course."

Davos was anxious at the prospect of coming face to face with Daeron Targaryen. He had only heard rumors of him, but the common theme was that he was the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms by virtue of him being the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. Given that he was sworn to Stannis, he was about to be put in a very difficult situation. If the dragon prince is ruthless, he will just kill me as a traitor. And my sons and Shireen will be vulnerable.

Finally, they came to their destination and Davos could recognize how much change it underwent. The most obvious one was that there were four dragons flying about. One was red, one was green, one was creamy white, and the largest one was black. The banners of House Targaryen were flying about while the harbor and the walls about the city were very busy. Men and ships were being unloaded while he could see war elephants and horses being guided. The elephants being among the army surprised Davos, as the only force in Essos that used them extensively and applied them well was the Golden Company. Either the Golden Company defected to the dragons, or they have been captured.

If the latter were true, then whatever force that the dragons commanded could easily overwhelm the strongest armies that Westeros could assemble. Even Stannis, a master of defense, would be defeated. Could the Yi-Tish troops be responsible for this?

But what struck Davos was the layout of the city. If he remembered correctly, this was Yunkai and it was supposed to be the stronghold for the tigers. And if the dragons are in control of Yunkai, then they have won. The tigers have been defeated, and my trip has been for nothing.

The crew forced Davos and his men off the boat and escorted them onto the docks. It was a diverse force, as he noticed other men of the Free Cities alongside the Yi-Tish troops. But he also saw prisoners just like himself, some of them either also tied or put in cages while most of them were doing some form of labor.

At the end of the docks, Davos had to blink his eyes more rapidly, for he looked upon someone he had not expected to see ever since he helped him escape Melisandre's clutches. But the confused and unsure boy was replaced with a man of coolness and dressed in armor similar to those worn by the Yi-Tish. He was also using a brush and black ink to write down what appeared to be scribbles.

When Gendry looked up, he too was surprised and stood up. "Ser Davos?"

"Good to see you," Davos answered with relief.

"What are you doing here?" Gendry was also happy to see him.

"You know this man, general?" the officer asked with curiosity.

"Yes, lieutenant. He saved my life a long time ago. Not much has changed between us." He then noticed Davos' hands were bound. "Lieutenant, please remove those bonds from him. The same goes for the rest of his men."

The lieutenant shrugged and ordered them free. But before he returned to his ship, Davos grabbed his collar. "We have unfinished business. I personally will see to it that you know pain like you showed us," he growled

The officer simply pulled his hand off of his collar and scoffed before he walked away.

Gendry, on the other hand, noticed their altercation. "Did he do something to you?"

Using his intact hand, Davos pointed after him. "He had us starved and go without water for four days. I had to beg him to be killed before he finally gave us what we needed."

Gendry nodded in understanding. "I will make sure to let Prince Kaijin know, my ranking commander. But rest assured, you will be well fed from now on."

Davos bobbed his head, grateful. "So, you are a general, huh?"

Gendry shrugged sheepishly. "I still have to get used to the title, and much has happened the last time we saw each other, Ser Davos. But what are you doing here in the Slaver's Bay?"

"It is a long story."

"Perhaps we can discuss it over a warm meal."

"Hey!" Davos' attention turned to a girl, a northerner by her appearance, as she approached them. But she was wearing white robes and carrying herself like an experienced warrior. What was more startling to the Onion Knight was how she held Gendry affectionately.

"You seem to have been busy, indeed," Davos jested.

"Ah, yes. Ser Davos, this is Arya Stark, daughter of Ned Stark." Gendry gestured to Davos. "Arya, this is Ser Davos Seaworth of the Rainwood. He saved my life from that red witch we saw in the riverlands."

Arya dipped her head in respect. "A pleasure, Ser Davos. You have my gratitude for saving his life. I have heard much about you."

"And your name precedes you, Lady Arya." Ser Davos did not expect to see the missing daughter of Ned Stark all the way in the Slaver's Bay.

"You do not know the half of it, Ser Davos," Gendry said.

That was when the Onion Knight saw the knowing look in the boy's eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"To make it short… also with us include Benjen Stark, Sandor Clegane, Samwell Tarly, and Robb Stark. Not to mention that we have the daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, Princess Rhaenys."

It might have been only a few names, but Ser Davos found himself asking more questions than he could possibly get answers to. Why is Benjen Stark here and not at the Wall? What is the Hound doing here? How did Samwell Tarly end up with the dragons? Robb Stark survived the Red Wedding? Rhaenys Targaryen is actually alive and the rumors we heard about her are not bullshit? What in the Seven Hells is going on here?

"As I said, Ser Davos, it is best that we discuss this over a warm meal. And you and your men need your rest, for tomorrow will be a very busy day."

"What is happening tomorrow?"

Gendry and Arya glanced at each other. "While we have won against the tigers and the slavers, the final victory will be determined tomorrow."

"And why is that?"

Arya cleared her throat. "It will be the day when we know the truth, if Aegon Tagaryen is who he says he is."


Varys had not expected to find himself in this position. Ever since he made the promise to his dead sister Sarra, he always envisioned himself always by the side of his nephew. He shared the name with the many dragonlords of House Targaryen, but he was not from the legitimate branch of that family. So was Varys and Sarra, as all three of them were all that were left of the whoremongering of Aegon the Fourth of His Name. When the last one from House Blackfyre was felled in the Fifth Rebellion, the whole world thought that House Blackfyre was finished and that the descendants of Daemon Blackfyre would never rise again. Ever since his sister died and Aegon was all that was left of her, he made it his mission to prove the whole world wrong and to bring House Blackfyre to the place it deserved in the sun.

Serving Aerys, Robert, Joffrey, and even interacting with the late Rhaegar Targaryen were periods of time where he could muster his resources and develop the connections he needed to bring the Blackfyres back to ascendance. Utilizing Jon Connington's unwavering and illogical devotion to Rhaegar's memory worked very well for Varys, as it ensured that his nephew would be protected while he could continue to operate in King's Landing. The griffin held affections for Rhaegar, which made it easier for me to be in two places at once.

While he had a plan to gather the troops and money Aegon needed to fight the war to claim the throne, Daenerys Targaryen's campaign to end slavery provided Varys with an opportunity. He could easily reach out to the slavers, which included the Volantene tigers led by Malaquo Maegyr, and they would provide more than enough soldiers and coin needed to support his nephew as he fought to the Iron Throne. And with Daenerys gone, Aegon will be free, and Rhaenys could be his wife.

But he did not count on Rhaegar actually siring another trueborn son with Lyanna Stark, and his Yi-Tish support was more than enough to turn things around in the favor of himself, Daenerys, and Rhaenys after she switched sides. And with three dragons, they finally annihilated their opposition in the Slaver's Bay. And given the total elimination of their enemies outside of Meereen, it was not hard for the survivors at Yunkai to see that the fight was over and that there was no more benefit in fighting.

Varys did not know of the fate of the survivors, which included Malaquo and Captain Strickland, until he saw them be bound and thrown in the cell next to him. Harry Strickland had his arm broken, evident from his cast, while Malaquo's legs looked bent and broken. Both struggled with controlling the pain from their injuries.

"What happened to Jon Connington?" Varys asked Harry Strickland.

The captain-general of the Golden Company shook his head. "He was killed. They showed his body to us as proof."

"And how many did we lose?"

Harry Strickland shook his head. "At least ten thousand, and the rest surrendered while we lost all of our ships. Among those who surrendered included my men along with their elephants. And out of the slave masters, only Yezzan zo Qaggaz lived. He was always the smart one."

"Indeed," Varys admitted. "And where is he now?"

"That bastard cut a deal with the dragons," Malaquo spat. "He told them about the harpies, about where else we have been operating, and he essentially ensured that the slave masters got their back broken. Because of him… we have lost."

Varys could not fault Yezzan, for he expected nothing less from someone trying to survive in a fluid situation like that presented in the Slaver's Bay. However, he also felt hatred, for because of him, Aegon would never sit on the Iron Throne.

Leaning back on the side of the cell, he closed his eyes and reached out to Sarra, wherever she was. Sarra, dear Sarra, please forgive me. I did my best, but it was not enough. If we see each other again… I deserve your hate and your poison, for I failed your son and my nephew.

He then brought his mind back to a fond memory of his, when his nephew met his father.

"Uncle," Aegon said happily as he hugged Illyrio.

"My boy, I am glad to see you. You look so much like your mother," Illyrio let out while looking at Varys. It was one of the only times where Varys could be in Pentos while also away from any prying eyes back in King's Landing. While Aegon was allowed to play with the other boys, Illyrio became serious but still affectionate with Varys.

"How are you, goodbrother?"

"The usual. Dealing with the decadent court in the Red Keep, especially with the chaos of Fat Robert. The Lannisters are digging their dirty claws into him, the other stags in Dragonstone and at Storm's End are getting more discontent by the day. If things continue like this, there will be unrest against all of them and thus making it easier for people to accept a Blackfyre on the throne."

"Remember, Varys. He has to be disguised as a Targaryen, and his true ancestry must be kept a secret, otherwise people will never accept it. If there is one thing that Westeros will always be hostile to, it is a bastard line ruling over them."

Varys looked at Aegon, who was having the time of his life. "He doesn't know the truth, but I have to take it to my grave, for it will destroy him. It will not matter that his mother loved him very much and it will not matter that man who showed him the most kindness whenever he can come here is his real father. What is needed now is the attention of Jon Connington, which he is getting very much of."

"And if the exile finds out the truth about Aegon?"

"He won't," Varys shook his head. "And even if I told him, his feelings for Rhaegar have long clouded his judgment. To even make mention of the truth will only drive him mad and more convinced of who Aegon really is."

Illyrio shook his head in disapproval. "I might not care for men liking other men, but it appears that love does make one blind. I do not regret loving Sarra, but all that is important to me now is getting Aegon on the throne and getting crowned as the king. Once that happens, all of our tribulations would have been worth it."

Aegon ran back to them. "Uncle, would it be too much to ask if I could get a dragon egg?"

Uncle was a word of affection for Aegon, not indicating any blood relation as far as he knew. "I am afraid that I cannot. Dragon eggs are pretty rare, but the first one I can get my hands on, that will be your nameday present, all right?" Aegon smiled at him and nodded.

"Is that a promise?"

"A promise." Illyrio hugged him again.

Varys knew that it was a lie. He was holding three eggs in his possession, but given House Blackfyre's diluted dragonblood, they could not take the risk of harming Aegon after the tragedy of Summerhall. After he becomes king, that will not matter anymore, Varys thought to himself.

Suddenly, guards approached his cell and dragged him out, grabbing his arms and not allowing him to walk on his own. He found himself in the main area of the city, the same place where Daenerys Targaryen first showed herself as a threat by taking and freeing the Unsullied. Quite fittingly, Grey Worm and many of the Unsullied stood at attention while they, more of the Yi-Tish and other members of the northern Essosi sellsword companies occupied the space that was still blackened from when the dragons made their first real kills in Yunkai all those years ago.

The guards dropped Varys, making him fall on his knees, and he looked up to see his enemies staring straight at him while seated in chairs arranged in a half-circle. He recognized the dragon prince hidden as Ned Stark's bastard, Daenerys, Rhaenys, Robb Stark, Arya Stark, Benjen Stark, and Samwell Tarly while he could only surmise that the one Yi-Tish man with authority was the one called Kaijin Bu. There was also Tyrion, Barristan Selmy, Missandei, and even Daario alongside another Yi-Tish man and two other Essosi of northern extract. There was also the white direwolf bonded to the dragon prince and the three dragons were watching while their claws were hooked on the blackened roofs. All except the dragon called Viserion, who was nearby and directly behind Daenerys.

But what was most shocking to him was that he found Aegon tied up and with many bruises on his face, with his right eye blackened and swollen. He was on his knees while his left eye was reddened. The other two slave masters, Razdal mo Eraz and Belicho Paenymion, were also severely beaten and tied up, while the former had his right ear cut off and the latter's face had several cuts. Paenymion originally hailed from Volantis and was one of Malaquo's allies from the start, which explains why Malaquo devoted so much resources since the interests of one of the tigers being threatened meant the threatening of all of the tigers' interests. That was one of the reason why I made so much efforts towards them, even if the toothless tiger looked down on me, Varys thought to himself.

All except Yezzan zo Qaggaz, who stood straight and free but he was still tense since he rightfully knew that he was not on good terms with the dragons despite making whatever deal he made for his life.

Varys looked at all of his enemies with rage. "What have you done to him?" he growled.

"Only what usurpers deserve," Daenerys answered.

"He is your nephew, your blood," Varys tried to say.

"Wrong," Rhaenys spat. "You tried to disguise this imposter as my brother, so do not try to keep up with this charade. We know the truth."

"What truth?"

A blind Yi-Tish man pushed Yezzan zo Qaggaz to the open space with his cane. "Go on. Earn your life. Tell him what you told us."

Yezzan blinked, as if hesitating to answer.

"Master Qaggaz, I always found you the more reasonable of the slave masters," Tyrion addressed him. "However, given your conduct as of late, I am not as inclined to patience as before. Say what you divulged to us, because that was the price we extracted from you in exchange for not killing you."

Yezzan cleared his throat. "My agents told me that one of the pieces of information divulged from Varys in confidence was that the one calling himself Aegon Targaryen," he eyed at Varys' nephew. "Is not the son of the late Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, but rather the last scion of House Blackfyre. Courtesy of the death of Maelys Blackfyre, Aegon Blackfyre is the last healthy male from Daemon Blackfyre."

Barristan Selmy stepped forward menacingly towards Yezzan. "And you are prepared to swear on your life once more that what you said is the truth?"

Everyone could understand his anger, for it was Barristan who was given the credit of killing Maelys Blackfyre and seemingly ending the threat from them.

Yezzan nodded. "Yes. That is the truth."

"No, no," Aegon finally said while struggling to get the words out of his mouth. "I am a Targaryen." He looked to Rhaenys pleadingly. "Please, sister. I am your brother."

"You are not," Rhaenys said to him straight. "You want to know how I knew? My brother played with my cat and his name was the first word that came out of his mouth besides 'muna,' but I found it impossible that you would not know."

Aegon shook his head. "Sister, I was just a babe. How would I remember a cat like that?"

"Stop lying!" she suddenly shouted. "I might have been a little girl, but also my father's memory and face was burned into my memory and you do not look like him at all. You might be a Valyrian, but you are not my blood."

"Perhaps our distant relations, if the Blackfyre claim is true," the dragon prince corrected her softly.

"No, no. I am not a Blackfyre. I do not come from an bastard line," Aegon tried to plead.

"Then there is only one way to prove that," the dragon prince made clear, confusing Aegon who stopped talking for a moment.

Daenerys then signaled for Viserion to step forward, with the troops making way, and his snout came close to Aegon. "Reach out with your hands and touch him. If you really are a Targaryen, no harm will come to you. If you are not… you die."

"If he is of dragon's blood, even a Blackfyre might be able to claim a dragon," Samwell Tarly pointed out.

"That will not be the case." In came a red priestess of Yi-Tish descent as she made her voice known. "Daeron and Daenerys Targaryen possess the ability to hatch dragons. The Lord of Light blessed the daughter of Rhaella Targaryen when she brought dragons back into the world, but the son of Rhaegar Targaryen also bonded with a dragon at the same time, all when the red comet flew through the sky."

Varys took no stock in legends or mystical signs, but even he found the red comet ominous.

"And given that Rhaenys is also a child of Rhaegar, the Lord of Light saw fit to gift her as well. It might have been delayed, but it happened."

"What will be wrong with a Blackfyre trying to do it?" Robb Stark asked.

"The first Blackfyre was of pure dragon's blood despite the circumstances of his birth," the red priestess stated. "But his descendants were of lesser quality until Maelys, and by then, the blood was too diluted. That is, unless this boy here can prove that he is of Rhaegar's loins by bonding with the white dragon."

Aegon gulped while Varys could look on with horror as his nephew ignored all caution to prove himself.

"My king, wait." Varys tried to stop him.

"I have to do this, my lord," Aegon was resolute. "I must prove that I am their brother."

"You are not!" Rhaenys shouted again.

"Be still, niece," Daenerys calmed her down. "But even if you are my other nephew, that does not change the fact that you consorted with slavers." She glared at the beaten and wheezing bodies of Eraz and Paenymion. "You will have to answer for that regardless, because I intend to make the slavers understand completely what they put those in chains experienced."

Eraz and Paenymion gulped, terrified since they were at heart cowards and they would not last long if the slaves were allowed to treat however they saw fit. Even Yezzan froze in fear, for that would have been his fate as well if he did not change sides.

"Be thankful that we are allowing you this chance," the dragon prince addressed Aegon. "If not for your claim about who you are, we would not have listened. But if you are family…"

"I am," Aegon emphasized.

The dragon prince gestured at Viserion. "Prove it, then."

Standing up, he went towards Viserion, his bound hands outstretched while he came closer to Viserion's snout.

There was some anxiousness, as Viserion sniffed Aegon and looked as if the white dragon would bond with him. However, the white dragon paused and looked at Daenerys. Varys' breath hitched, before Viserion roared and unleashed her flames onto Aegon.

"No!" Varys tried to reach to his nephew, only for his guards to restrain him. He watched and collapsed on his knees as the flames died and all that was left were his ashes.

Varys turned his attention to the dragonriders and all he could see was red in his vision. His normal calculating mind had now been filled with uncontrollable hate and all he wanted to do was to exact his vengeance on them. Pushing the guards' hold off of him, he charged at them. I might as well kill Rhaegar's son.

However, he could not even come close to him, as he felt something hit him in the back of his head and he fell down, black covering his vision.


Jaime was finally proud that Joffrey, who at the very least showed up to the small council meeting sober and clean. Of course, he had to ignore the fact that Joffrey complained of feeling pain in his cock, describing it as sore and that there was a rash forming, the latter of which was hidden by his clothes. Whatever was afflicting him certainly ended his spree of whoring and drinking, if only temporarily. I might have sired him, but he certainly took after Fat Robert in one way.

Affairs in Westeros were now coming to a head. The small council had now became inundated with reports of strife from all over Westeros, not just the North, the Vale, or the Reach. The riverlands were becoming more lawless as bandits were roving about at Lord Frey's expense, worsening the existing problem of the Blackfish's rebellion. What was even worse was that there was a major riot in Lannisport, in which the people were angered over the soaring prices of food and how boys as young as nine were now being pressed to support the banners. Members of the Lannisport's City Watch lost their cool and began to stick more than a few of the smallfolk with their spears and words. The most conservative estimate put the number of dead at over two thousand.

Jaime looked at his father and it was one of the few times where he was about to lose his temper and Pycelle was made to send a raven with a message that said more than a few biting criticisms to Reginald, who was their closest relative in Lannisport and controlled the city. His exact words were, "Blame it on hothead officers on the ground, or I will do to you what I promised to do to you when you decided rest was more than important than fighting at Harrenhal."

Jaime did not think much of Reginald, having only met him once. But if things had become that bad in Lannisport and Reginald had proved himself unable to keep things under control, it showed how things had gone to shit so quickly. And this was the Westerlands, power base of the lions, so this was very bad.

"We are not going to blamed for this, absolutely not," Cersei hissed while Jaime stood straight. "We should find someone else to blame. If a Lannister is blamed for the riot, it will come back to us."

"Your Grace, I believe it will be best if we all calm down and think through the benefits of Lord Tywin's thinking—"

"You spineless shit!" Joffrey made his voice known, clearly drunk. "You are just a bloated corpse we propped up and made something out of, otherwise you will be just another mediocre man in a cloak." Pycelle froze, greatly offended but not willing to say anything back. "If you people to want to blame us? It's time all of you realized who kept the daggers out of your fucking backs! Show some fucking respect!" He smashed his goblet down on the ground, startling everyone but Tywin. The Lord of Casterly Rock was not touched by his grandson defending him. "Without me, without the Lord Hand here, we would all be trampled by the rats who cannot stay in their lanes. Do we need a reminder of what happened to Lady Tarly and Ser Loras?"

Jaime shook his head. While he did not think much of the flower knight as a man, it was unfortunate that he died.

No one dared tried to talk back to Joffrey, but Jaime recognized anger and a loss of patience in his father's eyes. It made him all the more fearful of what he was going to do next, but he had to pray that nothing bad was to happen since the forbidden truth prevented him from wishing ill on Joffrey, no matter his faults.

And now, Joffrey finally was taking his first step in being a serious king. Well, he has not attended one small council meeting until now, but never too late.

"Now that we have been assembled, let us begin."

"Before we do, I have one piece of business to put forward," Tywin interrupted him. "The conduct of our king, Joffrey the First of His Name."

Jaime looked at him with confusion, with Joffrey even more so.

"What is the meaning of this, Lord Hand?"

Tywin simply continued. "I accuse Joffrey Baratheon, King of these Seven Kingdoms, of ruling on the Iron Throne with carelessness, centralizing power within his hands at the expense of the small council and the lords and people of Westeros. I also accuse him of being a failure as a custodian of the Seven Kingdoms, of consorting with those beneath his rank."

Cersei was very much alarmed, but she sat up to stop their father. "I warn you, Lord Hand. This petulant behavior will end very badly for you, and not even your position as Hand of the King will protect you."

Joffrey was now stammering at this point. "Perhaps there is concern on my conduct as of late, as I do admit that I have not been taking my duties seriously. But surely, Lord Hand, you are not seriously accusing me of doing something wrong?"

Their uncle Kevan joined in support of Tywin. "Lord Hand, I second your concerns and I move that we proceed to arrest Joffrey Baratheon and try him for crimes against the Seven Kingdoms."

"Uncle, are you mad?" Cersei was close to being hysterical, mostly because of how fast it was occurring.

However, Joffrey had lost his cool and was shouting at the guards. "Arrest these madmen! They are out of control!"

To Jaime's horror, none of the guards responded or moved to obey his commands.

Joffrey turned to Jaime. "Lord Commander, please take Lord Tywin and Lord Kevan to the Black Cells."

"Lord Jaime, you will do no such thing." Tywin raised his hand. He was frozen in place at the mere movement of his father. "Lord Mace, what is your position on this?"

Jaime hoped that despite the Lord of Highgarden's weakness, he would stand up for Margaery's husband.

"Lord Hand, I very much agree with you. Joffrey Baratheon should answer for his crimes."

Jaime felt his eyes widen while he held back a gasp in horror. What did my father promise you that you do this to your goodson?

"Lady Ellaria, what say you?" In the absence of Prince Oberyn, she would represent Dorne.

"Yes, I believe he needs to be held accountable for his misconduct."

"You Dornish whore! You do not know what you speak of!" Joffrey yelled.

Seeing that he received a majority, Tywin nodded to the guards, who opened the door to at least a dozen goldcloaks. They all walked past the small council and Cersei while they grabbed Joffrey. Ser Bronn, who Jaime thought was still in the riverlands dealing with the Blackfish, showed up and punched Joffrey hard, causing him to cry out in pain.

"What in the gods' name are you doing?" Cersei shrieked.

"This is a fucking takeover, Your Grace. I am only being the muscle." He then pulled the crown off of Joffrey's head. "Boys, give him a beating and take him to the godswood. And loosen his pants, so that he cannot run."

Seeing the small council walk after Tywin and Joffrey receive kicks and punches while letting out screams and Cersei trying in vain to protect him, Jaime could no longer stand on the sidelines. "Father, what is the meaning of this?"

"Protecting our family, as I told you to do several times," Tywin answered.

"This is treason," Jaime had to remind him.

"But who is the greater culprit here?" Tywin shot back. "I would suggest you step back and merely allow the small council to do their work."

"Father—"

"When this is over, you will be protecting another ruler."

Jaime opened his eyes in shock. "Myrcella?"

"Exactly. By the end of the day, there will be a queen on the Iron Throne. I hope you behave accordingly."

Jaime looked at Cersei, but she was trying to grab the goldcloaks and Ser Bronn from dragging Joffrey, who was struggling with his trousers while his face was bruised and his mouth leaking blood.

At the godswood, there was Ser Ilyn Payne, with his sword at the ready along with a wooden block. Jaime looked at his father in horror, already knowing what was going to happen. They are making a mockery of a trial, just like with Ned Stark.

Getting a piece of paper out of his garments and having Joffrey stand straight while being grabbed by the goldcloaks, Tywin proceeded with the trial.

"Joffrey Baratheon, you are accused of using your position as Lord of the Seven Kingdoms to plot against the people and lords of Westeros with the goal of forwarding the interests of yourself and of all enemies against the Iron Throne."

"What enemies? Stannis? This is ridiculous!" Ser Bronn socked him in the mouth, causing Jaime to step forward to stop him but Kevan shook his head. Jaime was stunned, as he could not believe that this was actually happening.

"You are also accused of more than two hundred counts of rape, of forcing yourselves upon the wives of lords and deflowering highborn maidens... some as young as nine years old

..."

The small council began shouting abuses at him, especially Ellaria, as she spat in Joffrey's face in disgust. Whether it was part of the act or her genuine feelings, Jaime did not care at the moment.

"Rape? What the fuck is this?"

Tywin then read names, real or not, as if to emphasize a point. With each name, Joffrey grew silent, as he could not answer back effectively at his grandfather showing such callousness towards him.

"You are hereby found guilty of treason and the small council has elected to depose you. And as a consequence, we also sentence you to be beheaded."

Joffrey struggled as the small council hurled more insults at him, while he was forced on the wooden block. "No, please! Please don't kill me! Please, grandfather!"

Tywin gave Ser Ilyn one more nod, and the sword fell down on Joffrey's neck. His head rolled, stunning Jaime while Cersei fell on her knees and let tears fall from her eyes as the death of Joffrey started to dawn on her.

"Throw him in a lime pit. He deserves to rot with the other wretches of Flea Bottom," Tywin ordered Ser Bronn. He turned to Mace Tyrell. "I hope that the annulment was to your favor."

"It most certainly was, my lord. I am glad that my daughter has been rid of that monster."

Tywin then turned to Ellaria. "I hope this satisfies Dorne for the moment, considering that it was his idea to send Dornishmen to their deaths."

Jaime knew instantly that it was a lie, but it no longer mattered as he could sense the small council's feelings.

"Indeed, my lord."

Finally, Tywin went to Kevan. "Bring Myrcella out. It is time that she be crowned."

"It will be done, brother."

Jaime had to remain stoic, but he wanted to hold Joffrey's head and comfort Cersei, for she had lost two sons before her.

Tywin stepped to Jaime. "It appears that with the king's death, your services as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard will no longer be required."

"That is not your decision to make," Jaime growled.

"You are wrong. Until Myrcella is crowned, I am in control and my first act is to compel you to resign from the Kingsguard."

"I will not."

"You do not have a choice," Tywin told him. "You wore the white cloak long enough, and now it is time that you be put to use elsewhere."

Jaime glared at him. "Was this your plan all along? You kill your grandson and you have the excuse you need to make me your heir once more?"

"You give yourself too much credit," Tywin was merciless. "I only removed a liability to us all, but removing you from your precious white cloak was another benefit. And who knows? We might see good things come from Queen Myrcella."

Jaime sighed. "You really think that she will accept it?"

"She does not have a choice in this matter," Tywin reminded him.

Meanwhile, they dragged Joffrey's headless corpse to whatever gutter they would dump him, while the head would be placed on a spike. "Well, from all of the fucking he's been doing, he got off easy," Ser Bronn cracked.

Jaime, on the other hand, pushed past his father and punched Ser Bronn in the face. He was held back by the goldcloaks. "You… will pay for this."

Ser Bronn shrugged after he got back up. "You promised me a lordship and a castle, but your father beat you to it."

Jaime scoffed. "Of course. I should have expected this from you."

"Don't take it personally, Ser Jaime. We all have to do what is needed to survive."

Jaime's mind was slowly getting clouded as he saw the blood trail from Joffrey's dragged boy. He was powerless to stop his descent into whoremongering, but he was just as powerless to protect him when he needed it the most. And seeing Cersei just cry out in pain, as she saw her favorite child die by their father's hand… Jaime wanted nothing more than to take away the heartbreak they were both feeling at the moment and he wanted to cry. But seeing the small council, especially their uncle Kevan, smiling and chuckling amongst themselves, as if they won a great victory at a tourney. My gods, how did I get to this place?

Jaime lost both of his sons, but he had one daughter left. I have to protect her. I have to.

Besides Ser Bronn, he looked at his father in rage. Let us see how far your legacy will last.

A/N: Much to unload here. Davos finally arrived in the Slaver's Bay and is reunited with Gendry, Varys sees his nephew die and thus the Blackfyres are finally finished, and Joffrey goes through a sham trial while Tywin replaces him with Myrcella. Varys sees his plots and last family go up in smoke, while Joffrey experiences what Ned Stark went through before he died. Good riddance on both of them.