This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":

- Invite : ''Defeat''.

- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.

All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.

Context: Bonus of my work ''The Hanging Tree''

Enjoy reading!

The basements of the Red Keep were strewn with stones. How could they have been otherwise?

It was as if the heavens had fallen upon them, as if the gods whom neither of them had ever truly believed in, whom they had both despised too many times, had chosen to punish them for all the sins they had been accused of, those they had committed, and those of which they were innocent.

The sky had fallen on them, and they had not been able to stop it.

But at least they were alive. This is what Jaime was thinking as he cautiously crawled out of the dragon's skull in which they had taken refuge. The Red Keep may have collapsed, crumbled, and dragged all the power that had made the House Lannister strength in its fall, but they were alive, and nothing else mattered.

Once Jaime was out, he took Cersei's hand to help her in turn free herself from the dragon's head, so similar to the monster that had reduced King's Landing to ashes, spreading fire and blood in its streets.

When she was finally standing beside him, Jaime could see on her pale face the grooves traced by the tears she had shed when they thought they were dying in each other's arms. Even though they were safe, she was still shaking. She continued to look up at the vaults of the ceiling with an anxious look, as when he had finally reached her, as if she feared that what was left of the Red Keep might fall down again, almost burying them. The hand she had put on her prominent pregnant belly seemed to be in spasms, which she tried to hide by rubbing her palm in circles on her abdomen, as if she was trying to soothe the little lion cub that was still inside, but would soon be pointing at the end of his nose.

But it was definitely not supposed to be there. It couldn't have been there. By the time their cub was born, they should be as far away as possible. They had lost, Jaime and Cersei knew that. They had lost, so they had to run. They had to flee, as far away as possible, because Daenerys Targaryen was going to hunt them down.

If, through the greatest misfortune, she succeeded in capturing them, Jaime did not even want to think about what was in store for them. Death, no doubt. But if the Targaryen girl was really as crazy as her father's king had been, then it wouldn't go well. It would not happen without suffering, without blood.

And blood, Jaime had seen enough: he would not let the blood of the last Lannisters, the blood of the last lions, be spilled for anything in the world. Daenerys Targaryen could sit on the cursed Iron Throne and demand to be bowed down and called "Your Grace" if she wanted to, but there was absolutely no way he would allow her to harm Cersei or their unborn baby. He would do everything in his power to stop her, even if it meant signing his death warrant.

Everything he had done had always been for Cersei, for Cersei and their children, and it was not about to end. If he had to die for one of them, or for their safety, then so be it. He would die.

Still holding Cersei by the hand, he took her with him in the hope of finding some way out, some opening to their freedom, not without giving her a warm look and a reassuring smile beforehand, while drawing soothing circles on the back of the hand he held with his thumb.

The exits to the outside of the castle seemed to have been blocked by the heaps of stones and rubble, and they searched in vain. They had to face the fact that they were indeed blocked.

Jaime thought for a brief moment, for a split second, about going back up the way they had come down, and taking another secret passage that would have allowed them to discreetly exit the ruined castle, but he quickly put the idea out of his mind. If Daenerys had already invaded the Red Keep, or rather what was left of it, she would ask her Immaculate to search for Cersei tirelessly until they found her, dead or alive, for only then would she be sure of what was going to happen to her enemy. Going back into the castle would only put Cersei and the baby in greater danger than they already were, and Jaime couldn't bring himself to do that.

He felt Cersei squeeze his good hand in his own. She was tense: of course she was. At that very moment, she was without a doubt the most wanted person of the Seven Kingdoms. He turned to her and, without a word, took her in his arms, hugging her, until he felt her relax, if only a little, against him.

What happened next happened so fast that Jaime didn't have time to react.

Dozens of Unsullied landed in the basements, quickly surrounding them, cornering them against the wall, spears brandished forward, pointing at them, and murderous glances in their black eyes.

Jaime, in a desperate and futile attempt to protect Cersei from the Targaryen soldiers, pushed her behind him, standing in front of her, his arm with the golden hand stretched back toward her, his left hand drawing his sword, as if, with one hand alone, he could have defeated them all, as if, alone, proud lion that he was, he could protect his lioness and his cub.

But it was a wasted effort.

The Unsullied were faster, stronger, more trained.

Although he managed to disarm a certain number of them, it was not enough.

The Unsullied catch Cersei violently, but take care not to really hurt her, their queen has ordered them to do so, she wants Cersei alive, and she is not strong enough to resist them, no one is strong enough to resist them, Jaime is not strong enough either, he gets caught, he too, and the soldiers don't touch him, they don't touch him, and yet Jaime follows them, because they have Cersei and there's no way he's going to abandon her again, he won't do it, he refuses him, they've always said it, they came into this world together, they'll leave him together.

If Cersei must die, then so must he. In any case, he cannot live without her. She is his other half, a part of him. He won't leave her alone, nor her, nor the child she is carrying.

He grabs her hand, despite the eunuch soldiers surrounding them, and together they are brought to the throne room, in front of Daenerys Targaryen.

Victory is overwhelming for the dragons.

Defeat is bitter for the lions.

Thank you for reading!

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Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.