Jaime

The army is spotted outside the gates by the early evening.

Red banners with golden lions fluttering outside the walls of Kings Landing. A sight Jaime would have found much comfort in if he was certain of what his father was doing. Supposedly, according to the word given at the gate to one of the soldiers, he was there to protect the city from the Northerners not far behind him.

The king sat upon his throne with Maester Pycelle and Lord Varys both stood before him. Jaime glances over them, his own nerves frayed as much as most of the city. He didn't much trust either man. Pycelle was a creepy old man whom Jaime doubted was as wise as Maesters were supposed to be. And Jaime had learnt early in his life from his father that men who dealt in secrets should only be trusted so far.

So he personally didn't know who to trust when it came to them disagreeing on whether to let his father within the city.

Aerys seemed deep in thought as he listened. Varys stepped further forward, "Lord Tywin has twelve thousand men in his control outside our gates. To let that size of a force within our walls would be too great a risk at this time." He was looking only at the king who met his gaze. Jaime was unsure how sound of mind the king was today. He doesn't truly believe in the last two weeks since Rhaegars death that the man has been clear eyed and sound. So he has little hope that he is now.

Perhaps the only thing he can hope for is that whichever way he decides doesn't result in the city going up in flame.

That is truly all Jaime can ever hope for with the king.

"Lord Tywin is an old friend of our king," Pycelle counters, his pale eyes glancing sideways to the Spider. "And a loyal lord to the realm, as was told to the men at the gate. He is here to protect his liege."

"He is a calculating man," Varys states, "and one not afraid of lying for his advantage." Jaime's jaw clenched just slightly, though he knew that Varys wasn't being dishonest about that. His father would do, and say, what was needed to get what he wants when it came to political gain. "If we open the gates and he is lying about his loyalties the city will fall."

"His own son serves the king," Pycelle motions to Jaime now and Jaime hates the reminder, as the king glances sideways to the kingsguard and his eyes narrow in thought. "As Lord Varys says, Tywin Lannister is a calculating man, and it would be against his interests to risk his own son's life."

Jaime stays still, as though it isn't him being talked on. But the king is still eyeing him, weighing the chances of his father being held to loyalty by him.

If Jaime were asked he wouldn't be sure. While he does doubt that his father would intentionally set out on a path that would lead to Jaime's certain death, he's not as certain that that guarantees he wouldn't join the rebels or sack the city. Especially seeing how the war seems to point more fully towards their success than the crowns.

There is more for Tywin Lannister to gain from supporting the rebels than there is for him to lose opposing the crown.

But Jaime isn't asked. And the kings beady eyes leave him and turn back to the two advisors from his small council. "Send word to open the gates."

Jaime sees Varys's eyes shut a second, worry clear upon his face before he nods and bows along with Pycelle who seems almost overly pleased with the kings decision. The pair leave and soon the room is empty save the king on his throne of swords and the lone Kingsguard of the city.

And within the hour word reaches the room that the city is under siege by Lannister soldiers.

Alys

The smell of smoke is the first indication she gets that something is happening. Knelt before the large oak tree for her daily prayer following dinner she pauses in her thoughts as smoke drifts on the wind in the evening.

The city, for the weeks following Rhaegars death, seems to have been waiting with baited breath for the siege they all knew was coming. Some left, like the Tyrell ladies, or were sent away, like the Queen and Prince Viserys, but plenty of court was still stuck here in the city.

And it seems, as Alys starts walking back to the keep, that the time has come.

Guards and soldiers are moving through the paths of the Red Keep. Preparing to defend it from the enemies that Alys overhears are already within the city walls.

For a few fleeting moments as she walks she believes perhaps it is her brother and that she'll be reunited with him soon, if she's not burnt by the king before he makes it to the keep that is.

But then she hears passing guards talk of Tywin Lannister and his men's assault in the city.

She doesn't know whether to be comforted still by the knowledge that it's Lannister men and not her brothers.

She does know that she's worried more for Jaime now. Because if it's his father assaulting the city then he'll be expected to fight his own family.

Passing over a walkway she glances in the direction of the city proper. The sun is on the cusp of setting, lighting the city in a low orange glow. But it is not the only source of orange glowing light. Alys pauses in her steps and looks more fully at the city, the source of the smell of smoke evident in the rising flames already started closest to the various gates of the city. She stays still a few moments, listening as she can just barely make out the very distant sound of fighting and screams being carried by the wind as well.

She closes her eyes and prays, gently and quickly that this ends quick for all those below.

Opening her eyes she turns away from the sight of a city being sacked and heads towards Maegor's Holdfast. She knows Elia will be within with Rhaenys and Aegon, and Alys wishes to spend this time with no one else save perhaps Jaime.

Jaime, who she spots looking towards the city with a gold cloak nodding his head at whatever Jaime is saying before leaving in the direction of the throne room. Jaime's jaw is tight as he looks down at the city, the fires that have started and the sounds of fighting in the streets still just barely making it to the keep.

"Jaime?" Alys comes up to him.

He glances her way and she swears she spots a flash of fear in his green eyes. "Alys," he glances around a moment before moving nearer to her. Closer she knows for certain, there's fear in his face mingling with the stress. Fear that bleeds in his voice as he says to her, "do you remember the way to the beach?"

"Yes?" she asks, "but… wouldn't it be smarter for me to stay? Away from Aerys but…"

"No," he shakes his head, "go. It'd be much smarter for you to go quickly."

"But… your father is going against the king. He'll be for the rebels. If he makes it…"

"No," Jaime shakes his head more before reaching and grabbing her, his hands tight on her shoulders as he looks at her, a pleading sort of look to his eyes. "Alys, you should leave. Get out of the city, quickly as you can." His voice is raw, sharp and heavy as his green eyes search her grey for sign of her understanding. Her own brow furrows, he sounds so desperate for it, his grip tight on her.

"Why—"

"No one's paying enough mind your direction now to notice you slip away. It's the perfect time… go through the passages I showed you. Go the the cove, there's usually a fishing boat near there, smugglers use it often enough." He keeps her gaze, talking quick but sure enough so she keeps up. "Take it and row, get as far from the city as you can." He smirks then, a familiar sight she usually welcomes but it is marred by the worry so clearly beneath it, "row north, your brothers army is that direction."

"Jaime…" she starts but he shakes his head and releases her.

"Go on," he nods the direction of where she'd find the entrance to the passage. "Be quick about it now." She hesitates, and moves around him still watching him as he looks down into the yard below. His eyes seem to catch on something, and his hand goes to the hilt of his sword as he moves towards a stairwell leading down to it.

She watches him descend before turning and starting towards the passage. She glances around her as she goes. In her scanning of the keep her eyes pass over Maegor's Holdfast, she can just see with the bend of the walls and path out to the outer wall of the keep. She almost doesn't note it, she almost keeps moving.

But there is the light of torches at the base of the wall. It catches her attention enough that she stops in her walking, and moves closer to study the sight.

There are figures, at least two, stood at the base of the walls and as she watches she can see one beginning to climb.

She stands, several moments, trying to reason why one of Tywin's would climb the walls of the keep when they've already entered the city. She doesn't think the keep will stand long before the forces can get in, so it would be meaningless to send men stealthily in this way to get the doors open.

But men, two at least, are beginning to climb the walls.

Perhaps to kill the king, she ponders. But the king is in the throne room, not Maegor's Holdfast.

But Elia is in Maegor's Holdfast, with her children. And Alys feels a chill at that thought, the reasoning that screams behind these connections.

She wants to say there's no reason for Tywin to send men after Elia and her children.

But she knows that's not true. Rhaenys and Aegon are Targaryens. Aegon is the heir after Aerys.

And Robert Baratheon has been declared king by the rebels.

Alys moves before she's even thought on it. Not in the direction of the passage but the opposite way, lifting her skirts so she can move quickly, near running her way in the direction of Elia and her children. She glances once, before she enters the Holdfast, in the direction Jaime had begged her to go.

He'd been so worried for her.

But this is more important than her own safety. Thus she looks forward as she enters and doesn't look back again.

Jaime

It hadn't taken long to know that they stood no chance against his father's men now that they had entered the city. Whatever defense he could attempt with the castle would only prolong the inevitable. Jaime had run around for near half an hour getting men set up to defend the castle but just a few glances at the cities already burning skyline told him it was lost.

He'd sent a soldier to ask the king for leave to make terms with his father.

And the messenger had returned with the kings demand to bring him the head of his own father.

The king expected Jaime to bring him the head of his father to show he's no traitor.

Jaime had been prepared to go and try and convince the king himself of the importance of making terms rather than sticking with a defense. They didn't have a chance, and if they made terms than perhaps Elia and her children would be safe, perhaps even the king would be allowed to live. Perhaps this wouldn't have to be a bloodbath.

But then the soldier had mentioned Rossart's presence at the kings side. And Jaime knew immediately what that meant for the city.

He'd seen the damned maps, with sickly green vials representing the sickly green jars that were placed about the city in just the right spots that if just one was ignited the whole city would go up in sickly green flames.

He'd seen the map and knew every single person in the city would likely end up dead if it was put in motion.

And Aerys would put in motion. He would kill every man, woman, and child within this city if it meant keeping the hands of the Rebels off of it all. He'd kill himself and likely expect to rise like a damned dragon from the ashes.

He is going to destroy the city. He is going to kill everyone.

Somehow it's not even surprise that courses through Jaime. It's recognition. This had been coming, perhaps it had been coming from the first person burnt unjustly within the throne room by a king known to be mad. Perhaps it had been coming since Aerys was born.

Was there ever any other way this man's reign would end?

Had Aerys's life ever been destined for any other way of demise besides one built of flame and spite?

No. It's not surprise, as he sends the messenger to his duties. It's recognition, of what has been always coming.

And it's recognition that he can no longer do it.

He can no longer stand by as he has for countless burnings and rape.

He knows he has to try, to stop the city from becoming ash and flame.

It's recognition that this is the tipping point of all his vows, vows to his family to his king to his knighthood and to the people. It's recognition moving round and round in his mind as he stands lost in his thoughts before he hears Alys say his name and he feels fear course through him alongside the recognition at the idea of her reduced to ash and rubble like the rest of the city. Fear that makes him implore so desperately that she leave, that she get as far as she can so maybe, just maybe, if he fails she can not be resigned to the fate he had once told her was inevitable for her. So maybe, she won't be as doomed as he once had said.

Then he spotted Rossart, Jaime had almost missed the man while he was talking with Alys. He'd almost missed the man scurrying across the yard in common soldier clothes.

The damned pyromancer turned kings hand.

Jaime can't say that he had any reservations about bringing his sword down upon the bastard. Rossart had seen him coming, and had attempted to fight him off, bringing a sword up in defense. But Rossart was not a warrior, and certainly not one that had any chance against Jaime. It didn't even take long, almost laughable how easy and quick it was cutting the man down and leaving him dead in a puddle of blood by the castle gate.

But Rossart wasn't the only threat. There were several pyromancers throughout the city. And there were two others that knew of the plot Rossart and Aerys had cooked up. But they weren't in the keep, so he didn't have to worry over them now. They'd probably been awaiting Rossarts word.

He had to deal with Aerys, before he sent more word to the other two Pyromancers to burn the city.

He moved, quick through the yard in the direction of the Great Hall. He could hear the sound of soldiers outside the gate. A battering ram was being prepared if he cared to guess. Above on the ramparts his own men were moving about. He didn't care to tell them to stand down, he couldn't stop and order them all about. He couldn't stop at all.

He enters the hall to find Aerys pacing before his throne, his head bowed as he muttered under his breath and picked at the scabs upon his hands. Jaime could see blood dripping from the cuts, and knew there would be a trail of little droplets of red along the path the madman was pacing.

It wasn't the only red trail in the room. Jaime hadn't bothered to sheathe his sword, and he certainly hadn't bothered to clean it of Rossarts blood, which dripped and trailed all the way as Jaime made his way down rows of long dead dragons hanging upon the walls towards the king.

Aerys noticed him as Jaime passed by the last and biggest of the heads. His beady eyes seemed to lock onto the blood dripping down his sword immediately. "Whose blood is that?" he demanded, "Is it Tywins? Is it?." Jaime kept moving, taking the first step up to the dias as Aerys demanded more, "I want him dead, the traitor. I want his head, you'll bring me his head, or you'll burn with all the rest. All the traitors." Jaime took the next step up the dias but the king still ranted, his hands motioning all about. Blood dripping from scabs and from sword. "Rossart says they are inside the walls! He's gone to make them a warm welcome." Jaime takes the last step up onto the dias and Aerys eyes him again, beady purple eyes looking him over, up and down so quick until he looks to the blood on his sword once more, "whose blood? Whose?"

"Rossart's," Jaime finally answers.

Those mad purple eyes grew wide, and the kings mouth dropped with shock as he stares at the blood and then to Jaime. Then he turned and ran, ran towards the throne as though a chair of swords that had always cut him would save him.

Jaime only had to move forward and reach, grabbing the king by his cloak and dragging him back. He lifted his sword as he did, running it through the back of Aerys. The man croaked, a twisted choking sound as the sword went through. Jaime released him and pulled the sword back, blood spraying out as the sword dragged away, mingling with the trails already upon the dais.

The king was knelt, before the throne, bleeding and choking and in it his eyes were hazed and he croaked out "burn them." Jaime stepped forward again, raising his sword again. "Burn them all." He cried, as though he still had some chance at life before him. Perhaps he believed he did. Perhaps he thought the city would still burn and he'd still rise from its ashes.

But that wouldn't happen. Jaime would make sure of it.

Jaime reached down, grabbing the collar of the kings cloak and lifting the man enough so he could drag the sword he'd swore to use only to protect this man across his throat. With a single slash across the mad kings throat he fell silent with a final gurgling choke and Jaime released him to fall slumped and lying in his own blood.

So easy. Jaime thought, a king should die harder than this.

He's staring at the king when he realizes there are footsteps coming up the great hall. He turns to look and sees a group of knights making their way up towards him. Knights, he recognizes, of the Westerlands.

He recognizes Roland Crakehall amongst the front of the men, he'd squired for the mans father for four years, he notes rather blankly. The man, and the others, are taking in the scene.

Pity, Jaime thinks. If he'd had more time perhaps he could have ran before discovery.

They looked at the king, dead in his own blood, and at Jaime in his kingsguard armor and cloak with blood upon it's white fabric to match the blood on his sword. He remembers sparring with Roland at Crakehall, the man had been older but had always put a good fight and smiled even when he lost.

He wasn't smiling now, he was wide eyed with shock and perhaps something else. Blame, or fear. On all of them, shocked and apparently appalled by the dead king and Jaime with the mans blood on his sword.

Were you not on your way to do the same? Jaime thinks.

It doesn't matter, he decides.

It's Roland who finally gathers his wits to speak, "the castle is ours, ser, and the city." Jaime wonders how true that really was. He could just barely make out the sound of fighting beyond the still open door to the Great Hall, likely the soldiers he hadn't bothered to command to stop. But, he supposed, it doesn't matter if fighting was still happening. The city was sacked, the king was dead, and the royalists had lost.

He turns and faces them more fully, resting the edge of his sword against the ground beside the kings body. "Tell them the Mad King is dead," he commands. "Spare all those who yield and hold them captive."

Crakehall nods, his, and the others, eyes still occasionally flicking down to the king in his blood. "Shall I proclaim a new king as well?" Crakehall asks, his eyes looking at the bloody sword and up it until they landed once again on Jaime.

The question was plain: who would they crown? Who would Jaime crown? They were looking to him to decide, because it was him who'd slit the last ones throat. Would he crown his father, or go with the Rebels and crown Robert? Or perhaps he'd stick with the dragons, and put the baby Aegon or the little prince Viserys upon the throne.

Jaime thought on it, but his eyes caught the blood spreading over the stone.

It's in them as well, the mad king wasn't the first Targaryen to go mad, whose to say he'd be the last?

He looks back to the group, and realizes how immeasurably tired he is. He doesn't want to decide this, he doesn't care. He was tired.

He wished faintly that he could go to Alys, he always slept so well beside her.

"Proclaim who you bloody well like," he tells Crakehall, who nodded quickly though his eyes still flicked to the bloody sword and body and cloak. Jaime turns then, moving up the dais until he reaches the throne, dragging his sword along the stone like it was all too heavy—it is— and trailing the blood along behind him.

He sits upon it then and leans back into it, feeling some edges of the thousand blades scrape against his armor as he made himself as comfortable as one could be in the damned chair. He keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword, his own eyes flicking to its blade and trailing along the blood that still covers it. He studies it and his jaw tightens as he glances back to the group of men who take one final look at the scene before turning and heading back out into the city.

Jaime shuts his eyes as they leave, a heavy breath escaping him as he feels fatigue fall like a heavy blanket upon him.

He doesn't rest though, he reopens his eyes and looks towards the door of the great hall. Waiting and watching for who would come and claim the seat.

Alys

Alys finds Elia in the nursery with Aegon tightly in her arms. She's rocking him as he fusses, and Elia herself looks on edge as Alys opens the door, her form jumping as she reaches towards a knife upon the table beside her and brandishes it at Alys. It shakes a second before she lowers it. "Alys?"

"Men are climbing the walls," Alys says, glancing towards the windows of the room and wondering if they were the ones above the climbing men. Elia looks as well, and her grip tightens upon Aegon and the knife both. "Come with me." Alys says, motioning, "they'll expect you here, but… but if you hide in my rooms."

Elia nods and stands before glancing about, "Rhaenys?" she calls, "she was here… she might've gone to mine or Rhaegars rooms."

"I'll find her," Alys says, motioning Elia out the door, she glances down both ways of the hall before looking at the walls. Alys had checked them as she went and she leads Elia quickly to the tapestry a small ways from the nursery, pushing the heavy fabric aside she presses against the stone like she'd seen Jaime do plenty. "Hide in here, I'll come with Rhaenys and then we'll make our way to my room." She ushers Elia in with Aegon, and starts to shut the stone.

"Alys—" Elia starts, but Alys shakes her head.

"I'll be right back," and then she closes Elia within, letting the tapestry fall back in place before she starts back towards the nursery.

She's about to push open the door when she hears the sound of shattering glass on the other side. She freezes, breathing hard as she listens, "where the hell are they?" a mans voice reaches her ears in muffled tones and Alys is spurred into motion.

Elias room connects to the nursery, so it's possible Rhaenys went there. But that also means the men are closer to it than Alys. Alys hesitates by the door of the room before she recalls something else, something Elia had mentioned once while they broke their fast.

Rhaenys had had a nightmare the night before, and when Elia woke she couldn't find Rhaenys anywhere in her room or the nursery. Lewyn had been the one to find her, hidden in her fathers room under his bed clutching a blanket around her.

Alys looks fleetingly at the door to Elias rooms and hopes she makes the right choice, because she fears if she doesn't it will be too late.

She moves further down the hall and stops at what she believes to be Rhaegars room, she's never been within it but she recalls being told its the one down at the end of the hall. She pushes the door open and glances around the room, it's dark and cold from disuse. Moving quick she moves to the bed and kneels. She can't see under the bed, the lighting too dark as the only light in the room came from the nearly set sun through the window. "Rhaenys?" she calls, quiet in case the men have left the nursery and were in the hall. "Rhaenys can you come out? I'll take you to your mother."

She waits a second, and starts to doubt her decision when she hears a quiet sniffle and then the sound of movement. Then Rhaenys pops out from under, "is papa here? Did he come back?"

Alys sighs, sorrow rushing through her for this girl not even yet four who just wanted her father. "No, no. I'm sorry." She says, "but your mother and brother are waiting for us. Will you come with me?" Rhaenys studies her a second before nodding and taking Alys's hand.

Alys starts them towards the door to the hall when she hears another door shut and footsteps start down the hall in this direction.

Her grip on Rhaenys tightens and she quickly glances around the room, scouring the space for somewhere to hide or another way out. Her gaze stops on the hearth, and a familiar looking pattern of stone beside it. "Come on," she whispers to Rhaenys, "be quiet okay." She releases Rhaenys's hand and starts to feel along the stone. She can hear the footsteps getting louder out in the hall, and panic bubbles up in her as she gets more and more frantic in feeling along the stone wall.

Then she finds it, the little push that allows her to move the secret door that was exactly like the one in her own room. She gets the stone moving, conscious of the sound as she opens it just enough for Rhaenys and her to get through. She ushers the little girl in first, who stares at the dark space with fear but thankfully doesn't protest.

Alys follows behind, and is pulling the stone back into place when she hears the door start to open.

"Alys?" Rhaenys's voice is barely audible, and soon a small groping hand grasps Alys's.

"Quiet, okay?" Alys whispers to remind her. Rhaenys doesn't reply, so she assumes the little girl has nodded and understands. Alys listens a second by the door while she lets her eyes adjust to the darkness, but the stone is too thick and she can't make out any sounds within.

She looks around, she needs to move quick still. She can see well enough, and is aware enough of where they are in the keep that she starts moving them down, one hand holding Rhaenys's and the other moving along the wall. They only walk a short bit before she finds a point in the wall that gives, pushing it open she peers through and sees it exits out into another bedroom. Slowly she exits, "stay close okay?" she tells Rhaenys who nods.

She moves towards the door out to the hall and pulls it open just enough to peer out.

They're down a short ways from Rhaegars door, and around the corner from where Elia and Aegon are hidden within another series of passages. She doesn't see anyone either, so she assumes the two men are still searching Rhaegars room. She glances about the hall, studying the walls until she spots another tapestry.

She moves them quick, aware that the men could leave Rhaegars room at any moment. She pushes away the tapestry and is relieved to find a similar door to what she'd put Elia through. She pushes the stone and opens it, once again ushering Rhaenys within before following. She lets the tapestry fall back over and shuts the door.

Taking Rhaenys's hand once more she starts in the direction that Elia should be. She rounds a corner and lets out a relieved breath at the sight of Elia rocking Aegon in her arms right where she'd been left.

Elia notices her as well despite the darkness, and when her eyes land on Rhaenys a choked sound comes out of relief. "Thank you." She says when Alys reaches her fully.

"We still have to get back to my room." She tries to picture where they are before she starts moving them.

She makes sure they're moving quick, and has to stop at exits to peer out and orient herself.

Every time she does she can make out the sound of fighting beyond the walls of the Holdfast, perhaps even within. She tries not to think of it all, certainly not to think of Jaime out there fighting and possibly dying.

He's always bragged about how good with a sword he is, she reminds herself as she leads Elia and the children along, just have faith that he was telling the truth.

When she feels well far enough away in the Holdfast from the men who had tried to get to Elia and her children, Alys leads them out of the passages and out onto the walkways that will take them to the Maiden Vault. She would prefer to stick within them if she could, but the passages are too much of a maze to risk.

Instead she makes sure they're quick, moving along the walkway as quiet and fast as possible. She can see some fighting now, gold cloaks going against knights and soldiers down in one of the yards as they pass the library and Sept. She feels incredibly relieved when they enter the Maidens Vault, something she wouldn't have ever expected to feel about the place she'd been a prisoner in for over a year.

She elects to return to the passages once more, knowing the layout of the Maiden Vault enough to navigate their way to the door in her own room.

A room she welcomes the sight of entirely when she pushes through the door and ushers Elia within. Secluded and windowless as ever but pure relief at feeling slightly safer here than out in the halls or in Maegor's Holdfast.

She gets the secret door shut and leans against it once its done, her eyes falling shut as she tries to breathe steadily enough to calm her nerves that had been coursing through her from the second she saw the two men begin to climb the walls.

"Alys?" She opens her eyes and looks over to Elia, still holding Aegon tight in her arms while Rhaenys clutches her mother skirt. "What'll happen now?"

"I won't let anything happen to you three," Alys states moving towards Elia and taking one of her hands in her own, "I… I'll keep you safe, however I can." Ned, she thinks, when he arrives she'll get him to agree to keep Robert from killing them. Surely something can be arranged, surely Ned will agree that spilling children's blood would hold no purpose. Even if they are Targaryens. "I promise." She squeezes Elias hand tight, the woman returning it.

She's about to say more when the sound of movement in the hall outside her room is heard. Elia stiffens and tightens her grip on Aegon while Rhaenys looks towards the door with wide eyes before turning into her mothers skirts. "Hide," Alys tells Elia, moving them towards the privacy screen beside her wardrobe. Elia sits hidden behind it with Aegon tight in her arms and Rhaenys held against her tight.

Alys hears more movement, closer to her door and moves towards the center of the room while she glances around. The movement stops outsider her door and she moves quick to grab the poker by the hearth.

She turns, brandishing the poker like a weapon but feeling entirely inadequate holding it as the door to her room opens. Alys raises it higher as a man steps through.

And she freezes, brow furrowing as she recognizes the man, "Howland?"

Thank you for reading and for your comments/reviews!