Elia I

"The King will hear you now," ser Lewyn said.

Elia followed after him. Her well-known uncle led her inside the solar where, alongside her Mad good-father, Ser Jaime Lannister and Rhaegar had just ceased studying a map.

The Rebellion had turned out to be more dangerous than initially expected. As a result, her dear husband had finally returned home. He had not come to her or their children. Not once. He had not even attempted to explain his actions. To apologize for his unlordly, no, unkingly behavior. He had only looked at her from afar with such calmness as if it was the most natural and reasonable thing to leave someone's family for a child.

Elia might be from Dorne, but that did not mean that she shared her people's customs. She had never accepted the idea of having lovers, like her brother, Oberyn. She believed in the purity of a wedding. In the oaths that a lord and a lady exchange, as witnessed by men and Gods. The idea of surrendering her body to a man who was not her husband seemed disgusting. Dirty.

As it turned out, Rhaegar was a mystery to her. Her once sweet and tender prince had betrayed her by dirtying himself. Because the truth was Lyanna Stark was still a child. Even if she had willingly joined Rhaegar in his madness- as Elia suspected- she held no blame. She was a girl. A naive, northern girl with no knowledge of the harsh, southern world she had been thrown into. All the responsibility, all the blame lay with the Prince of Dragonstone.

Elia would have probably forgiven her husband in time if his fault had been lying with another woman. But no. He had most probably raped a child. And as if that had not been enough, he had caused a war. The Starks' horrible murder in front of her very eyes had been a turning point for her. Whatever feelings she had still held for the Targaryens had completely eradicated. She could still hear Lord Rickard's terrible screams of pain. It had been torture. Sadistic. Mad. Cruel. Torture. She would never forget. She would never forgive. And she would never feel an ounce of guilt for what she was going to do.

A fortnight before, a raven had arrived with a secret message for her. Grandmaester Pycelle had found her in the Nursery, where she had been watching her little Rhaenys play with baby Aegon. He had sent the maids out and shut the door firmly.

In front of her very astonished eyes, he had looked around the room as if searching for intruders and then transformed into a slightly taller man with a straight back and a broad chest as well as clear, intelligent eyes. He had looked nothing like himself. Or at least, nothing like what he was supposed to be like. She would never have guessed that he had been deceiving all of them.

Without speaking a single word of explanation, he had approached her smirking slightly and put two parchments in her hands. Then, as if nothing had been out of the ordinary, he had hunchbacked once again and with his usual stuttering had said:

"It would be wi...wise, my P...princess, to b...burn everything."

And he had left the room.

For a few moments, she had remained frozen in shock. Only her little girl's laughter had brought her back to reality. She had immediately sat near her son's crib and taken a quick look at the first parchment. She had been shocked to discover that it had been full of symbols with no meaning.

Had she been no witness to the Grandmaester's transformation, she would have thrown the piece away, believing it a joke. But, no. He would not have trusted her of all people without having a grave reason. So, she had taken a peek through the second parchment.

It had made her speechless. The parchment had contained a code, translating the peculiar symbols.

Suddenly, she had felt frightened. Someone had gone through all this secrecy under the nose of the Mad King.

It had taken her quite some time to read the whole message. She had not written it down afraid that one of Varys' little birds had been watching her.

She had been glad that she had been sitting. She would never have expected that particular message.

Be near the fish in a fortnight after you receive this. Have the little lion with you. My man will bring you to safety. Otherwise, I will not be held responsible for future actions. If your blood and mine are where they should, I will save you. You have my word.

It had confused her at first. But when she had connected the dots, she had been dumbfounded. The Great Lion himself had offered what she had so desperately craved for. Freedom from madness. Safety for her little children. Escape from the Targaryens. All he had wanted in return had been his son.

She hadn't known if there had been an agreement between her brother and the Lannisters. Either way, she had not been willing to find out. No such opportunity would come a second time. She knew what Tywin Lannister was capable of. And that was why she had burned the parchments with a candle. She had made her decision.

And so now, a fortnight later, here she stood. About to attempt to convince the Mad King that ser Jaime Lannister should be her guard for her walk through the city.

She bowed deeply. Just one last time, Elia, she thought.

"Your Grace," she started after she had risen.

"What do you want, whore?" he snarled at her.

She was so used to this kind of behavior that she didn't even flinch.

"Your Grace, my daughter expressed her desire of seeing the city. She is curious about life outside the palace. I told her it is quite dangerous, but she insisted stubbornly. Therefore, I come before you asking for a guard to protect your grandchildren. Ι understand that there are only two Knights of the Kingsguard in the city. I would not ask for Ser Lewyn, your Grace. You require the utmost protection. But I would ask for ser Jaime. He is young and a boy still. But he is quite capable, I suppose, of guarding a girl."

She paused, waiting for a reaction. She did not grow disappointed.

"You dare, whore? You dare to make demands? And insult my Kingsguard?" the Mad King shouted.

Elia remained collected. She would not leave the Throne room before she succeeded.

"Your Grace. I would never presume of making demands of any kind. I am not speaking ill of your Kingsguard, either. I am simply considering what the most practical route is. Let us be honest here. Ser Jaime is great with a sword. In tournaments. Has he fought in a war? No. Has he done anything remarkable other than playing with a stick? What of his wits? He does not seem to possess any of his father's intelligence. Or shrewdness. If something were to happen, you would need someone with experience, my King. Someone who knows how to take a life. Someone who will not have the slightest doubt about sacrificing his life for yours. Someone like my uncle."

Elia took a breath. She did not dare to look at Jaime. She had not meant a single word. She knew him. He possessed a kindness that endeared him to her. But politics were politics. She knew about the King's disdain and jealousy of Tywin Lannister. And she was still a snake.

The King started laughing. It was a cracking squawk that she never wanted to hear again.

"Ha! You speak true, whore. Ser Jaime Lannister. Ha! He is not even a lion. He will always remain a cub! Tywin's heir. Tywin's pride. The Great Lion's pride! A cub with no claws! No. A cat with no claws! Ha, ha, ha! He could never protect me! His king. He is not to be trusted. No! I do not trust him or his traitorous father! He is a prisoner here! My prisoner, yes. Tywin cannot lift a finger against me! He knows what I would do to his precious son. And the brat himself will never betray me! Will you, Ser Cat? No, of course not. What would that mean for your honor? Your oaths? You wouldn't be a kingslayer now, would you, boy? No, no. Of course not. You would lose your life for that and your family, too. If you only dare to consider betraying me, I will kill my dear friend, your dear father and your whole family the way I did with the Starks. Ha, ha, ha! Now, brat, you don't want that, do you? I hold your family in my palm, boy. Remember that. I see your disgust. I could take your head for it, boy! Ha! You are no one, Ser Cat! I can do with you whatever pleases me. As I did with your mother. HA! Poor Tywin! He never knew! He was sitting on my throne, holding court and tasting my power, while I was raping his beloved wife again and again and again. I had wished to make love to her, but no! She had that same disgust painted on her pretty eyes. So I made her regret it."

Silence. A deathly silence followed the King's outburst.

Elia looked around her, horrified. She could not believe what she had just heard. Her plan to provoke the king against the Lannisters had completely backfired. Her hope for salvation lay with Jaime. If he made one wrong move...

She looked at him now. Poor boy! He was shaking. His right hand was holding the pommel of his sword tightly. His eyes... his eyes were beyond angry. They were furious. Elia was not sure that he could be stopped if he attacked the king.

Her gaze found her uncle. He was staring at his younger sworn brother with a pained expression. Yet, he was fully alert. Just one wrong move could have deadly consequences for all parties.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Jaime move. She turned her attention back to him. He had unclenched his fist. He suddenly looked tired. Defeated. He bowed his head and spoke in a worn-out voice.

"What are your orders, my King?"

Elia breathed out a sigh. There was still hope.

Her good-father chuckled madly.

"You are wiser than your father, boy, for you know that you are only a servant."

He looked at Jaime dismissively.

"You may follow the whore like a good dog. Ha! Or better. A good cat. And let us, the real men, be the strategists of this war."

Jaime bowed and walked towards her. Without a word, she led him out of the solar. She did not look back, not even to see her husband's face one last time. Her life here was over. Her only guilt was that she could not do anything for her loving uncle. It would seem too suspicious...

When the door closed behind them, Elia took the young man's arm and quickened her pace. She kept silent until they arrived outdoors. A small wheelhouse was waiting for them. Her children were already inside with a wetnurse for her son. She quietly gave instructions to the drivers and then dismissed the wetnurse. She would no longer need her.

She turned to Jaime. He had not spoken once. She had a lot to say to him, but she knew that it was not yet safe. She had to be patient for a little while longer.

She silently gestured for him to follow her inside. There, she took her little son, who had been sitting on his own, in her arms and pulled Rhaenys, who was holding Balerion, beside her. She closed her eyes and finally sighed in relief.

When she opened them again, she saw Jaime staring at her. She took a deep breath. Now was the most difficult part of the plan.

"Ser Jaime, I need to make a confession," she started.

He only raised an eyebrow.

"I am leaving this cursed city. And I want you to come with me."

There certainly was a more diplomatic way of phrasing it. But time was of the essence.

Jaime looked at her aghast.

"My Princess! I cannot let you do that. I have a duty to my King! I..."

"Jaime," she interrupted softly.

He is so young, she thought.

"Your father is behind this," she revealed in a low voice.

His whole demeanor seemed to change. His rigidity turned to bewilderment.

"My father?"

"I am asking you to trust me, Jaime. Your father has finally chosen a side. And it is not favorable for the dragons. He offered to save me. And my children. Only if you come, too."

He looked at her strangely. As if he could not comprehend what she was saying.

"My father never takes unnecessary risks. He always calculates the most profitable outcomes. This does not sound like my father, my Princess."

Elia sighed.

"It is him, Jaime. For some reason, he decided to act. I cannot know why. He might have considered saving you. He must have thought that you are in danger. He is the most powerful man in Westeros. Nothing escapes him. Maybe Grandmaester Pycelle sent a raven to him, and this affected his plans. After all, he revealed himself to be loyal to your father instead of the king."

She recounted all that had happened in the Nursery. He remained silent until the end.

"We are going to the River Gate. A man is supposed to meet us in Fishmonger's square. We have nothing to lose, Jaime. If someone suspects us, we have the alibi that we are there for the little princess since she wants to see the market. If not, then we have a great chance to be free."

Jaime shook his head sadly.

"My Princess, I have sworn a sacred oath to our king. If I betray him, I betray myself. I betray my family's name."

"No, Jaime. This is not you. This is the king speaking. I saw the real you back in the Red Keep. I saw you considering to murder that madman. And it would have been just. He does not deserve that throne. What he did to your mother, my mother's dear friend... If it had been anyone else in his place, he would have been executed. But he is the King. He can have everything he desires. How can you be loyal to that man, Jaime? How can you not feel joy that your father has come for you? How?"

Jaime's mask crumbled. His face betrayed an expression of pure, unadulterated anger.

"You know nothing about me. You presume too much, Princess. I do want to kill him, that is true. I want him to suffer. I want to see him die slowly and painfully. I am not LOYAL to him! I loved my mother. And he took her from me. He took her from my sister. And he took her from my father. The day she died, I lost him too. I tried to understand why he had grown so cold. So unfeeling. Why he hated Tyrion with venom! I grew to despise him for it. How can a man hate his own son just because of his building? I asked myself that question so many bloody times! And now... Now I am asking... How did he stop himself from killing my brother? Because he must have known... Tyrion is not his son. How was he capable of showing him mercy? My father and mercy? Bloody no! He always cares about the family name. He could have had him poisoned and spread the word that he died of fever. Nobody would dare to contradict him. He is Tywin Lannister! Everybody fears him! He could have saved the family name from ridicule very easily. And he would not even become a kinslayer! Why did he not do it? Why? And how in seven hells did he keep serving that monster as Hand? If it were me, I would have stabbed him a thousand times!"

Aegon started crying from the raised voice of the young Kingsguard. She tried to lull him to sleep, but her own silent tears disturbed him more.

She had not thought of the dwarf. She had not made this most reasonable connection. Her mind started spinning. So many questions. Questions that would probably never be answered.

She willed herself to still her thoughts and calm down. Only the present mattered. Her plan. Yes, she should focus on her plan.

She started singing a Dornish lullaby. She did not pause until both of her children had fallen asleep.

She turned to Jaime. He had lowered his head. He did not seem to be crying, though. It was as if he had lost consciousness.

Suddenly, he sat back straight. His gaze pierced her own. His eyes were shining with a steely determination that took her breath away.

"I will help you," he said, and he seemed unperturbed from his previous outburst. "I am a lion. It is time that everyone realizes that. If it is proven that my father is behind this scheme of yours, I will help you. I will never again be loyal to anyone but my father."

Elia could have cried from relief. She nodded without being able to hide her excitement.

They kept silent after that. At some point, Elia closed her eyes. She must have drowsed because, when she opened them again, the wheelhouse had stopped moving, and Jaime was shaking her gently.

"We are here," he whispered.

She nodded and woke up Rhaenys. It was now or never.

They got out and waited. They pretended to look around. She with her baby son in her arms and Jaime holding her daughter's shoulder while she was hugging her small black kitten to her chest.

They did not have to wait for long.

A slight man with brown eyes and an ordinary, weathered face approached them. He might have been a fisherman or a villager. He looked hard-up, in his frayed brown tunic and breeches and old boots. His beard and brown hair were slightly peppered with gray.

He was carrying a bucket full of fresh fish.

"Milady. Milord."

He pretended to present them the fish, but the words that came out of his mouth made them both stiffen.

"Your blood and his blood 're not like fish."

An outsider would have laughed at this man's face for his illiterate mouth. But to them, these words were proof.

He pointed his hand towards the market quite spectacularly, mimicking the way an ordinary fisherman would try to sell his fish. They understood.

They walked slightly behind him while he was speaking. Although she did not understand a single word, she tried to seem interested. His accent was that heavy.

She saw people looking at them. No. Not them. Just Jaime. They had obviously recognized his white cloak. She silently thanked the Seven that her daughter looked Dornish. Not sharing her father's looks made her an ordinary child of some lord.

She wrapped her son's head with his small red blanket. She did not wish for anyone to catch his fair Targaryen hair.

They finally stopped in front of a small hut. The man walked inside first. They looked around. There were still people staring at them. Praying silently for their plan to work, she nodded at Jaime to go in.

The man closed the door behind them. His previously jovial face turned serious.

"We don' have time, milady. Ya'll leave here an' go around the hut. There's a backdoor. Ya'll come in an' ya'll change this cloak and armor, milord. I'll put ya in a big chest, milady. It's s'posed ta have clothes. There'll be more boxes an' chests, don' worry. Milord will be my son. We'll have ta dirty yar hair and face in the mud. Ya're too golden, milord. Ya'll wear an old cloak o' mine. We'll use a carriage to leave the city. Now! Go!"

They almost ran. Once outside, they pretended to look around in the market leisurely. Elia could hear her heart beating. She was frightened. They walked desperately slowly. They even stopped to buy some fish from an old kind-faced man.

And finally, they were in the backdoor. There was no one in that area, probably because it smelled like death. They went inside.

"Wha' took ya so long?" exclaimed their man. "Come, come."

He helped Jaime out of his armor and gave him a worn tunic and a torn-up cloak. While Jaime was getting ready, she was entertaining Rhaenys. Her little girl was talking to Balerion and laughing sweetly.

When she turned back to the men, she almost snorted. Jaime looked like a peasant! And his hair was so muddy that it had turned completely grey! And his expression was priceless. He was pouting like a small boy!

"Ya 'll have ta lower yar head, milord. Yar green eyes could betray ya."

The younger man just nodded in response.

"Now, son. Help me hide them," he pointed in her direction.

They came towards her. The strange man kneeled before her daughter and smiled softly.

"Do ya wanna play a game, child?" he asked her.

Rhaenys nodded enthusiastically.

"Good! Ya're gonna hide in that chest over there until I come an' find ya, alrigh'?"

"Alone?" came her daughter's shy question.

"No, no. With yar mama and yar brother. An' yar kitten o' course!" he reassured her while laughing merrily.

Rhaenys smiled toothily at that. Elia could have hugged the poor man for that.

"Ya'll have ta be quiet until I come, alrigh'?"

She nodded with wide eyes.

"Good! Now, come, come!"

Elia followed every instruction he gave them obediently. The next thing she knew, she was lying inside a big chest with her children beside her and dozens of old, worn-out cloaks and threadbare tunics surrounding them. Before the world was closed off to her, she had to ask one specific question.

"What is your name?"

The man bowed his head slightly and answered with a clearer voice than before.

"Davos, milady. Davos of Flea Bottom."

And then blackness encompassed her.

Author's Note: Hello again! I want to thank you for your kind reviews! And also I would like to make some things clearer for the story. I tried to be as chronologically accurate (according to canon) as possible. So, this story begins after the battle of the Bells. Aerys has just named Lord Qarlton Chelsted as his Hand of the King in Jon Connington's stead. Ser Jonothor Darry and Ser Barristan Selmy have been sent to rally Connington's men. Ser Gerold Hightower (the Lord Commander) has been sent to find Rhaegar. As we all know he is going to stay with Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswhell Whent to guard Lyanna Stark. Rhaegar has just returned to King's Landing. So, the story goes from there. That means there are only two Kingsguard Knights left in the Red Keep. Prince Lewyn Martell and Jaime.

Secondly, Joanna Lannister attended the Anniversary Tourney in King's Landing in 272 AC, held to celebrate Aerys' 10th year on the Iron Throne. Tyrion was born in 273 AC. So it is quite possible that he was not in fact Tywin's.

Thirdly, Dorne is still neutral. It is before Tywin was asked for help from either side. Tywin's plan in this story is going to change everything from this point forward. Because he has already made his move.

Lastly, Jaime is still a kid! He is around 17, so he has not yet become the arrogant man we all know. Or else he would have killed the King, I think.

I apologize for the long note. I just didn't wish for anyone to feel confused. I said in the first chapter that I was writing AU, but I meant only plot-wise. I am really trying to keep canon in the time periods, the characters, some major facts, etc.

Thank you for being patient with me!

I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Don't worry, there are more coming soon!)