The Worth of Ash
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Game of Thrones or any related titles, characters, plots, settings, etc. These rights are the property of George R.R. Martin, HBO, and their various publishers and distributors. I own only the original elements of this story, the writing and publishing of which earn me no money.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jaime stared down at the small raven scroll he had received so long ago. The edges were tattered now, the parchment faded and stained from exposure to the elements and the contents of Jaime's bag, but Cersei's neat handwriting was still clearly legible. The missive was written in their secret language, a fact that had not impressed Sansa Stark when he had presented it to her the day after Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen had departed south.
She had glanced from the parchment to Jaime, meeting his gaze with a coolness he had long associated with Tully blue eyes. "And why am I to care about private notes sent from your sister?"
"Because," he explained tightly, scarcely able to remain civil, "she says that Kyren has been taken by men she sent to survey the aftermath of the battle."
Sansa had frowned at that, furrowing her delicate brow. "And what is the likelihood that your sister merely means to lure you to King's Landing?"
"Low, Lady Stark," Brienne answered for him. "Kyren's stallion was found in the stables, unbrushed and still wearing a rope bridle. Kyren has not been seen since and her chambers appear to be unoccupied."
Sansa watched Brienne with curiosity and Jaime had hastened to explain, "I brought my concerns to Brienne first, in the event that Kyren simply did not wish to see me."
Understanding crossed Sansa's face. "You had a disagreement," she summarized. "I have not seen Kyren in some time. Sandor, would you make a sweep the forests around Winterfell? Take as many men as you wish, only do so quickly."
The Hound nodded and departed from the Great Hall, avoiding Jaime's gaze as he went. Despite his worry for Kyren, Jaime could not help the wave of amusement that swept through him at the hulking man's sheepishly devoted behavior.
"Jaime," Sansa said, voice tight but not harsh. He returned his attention to her and found her face free of judgment or suspicion. "Do you truly believe your sister would take Kyren?"
"Yes, my lady," Jaime answered gravely. "Cersei has meant to kill Kyren for some time. If her men found Kyren in the woods, I do not doubt that Cersei would have her brought to King's Landing."
"Then someone must go after her," Sansa decreed, and Jaime agreed with his whole being.
And so he had found himself on the road south only hours later, accompanied by Arya and the Hound. The former of the two stared at him now. "Why do you still have that?"
Jaime rolled the scroll up once more, tucking it back into his saddlebag. "Because I have to remind myself what she is capable of."
The Hound snorted. "You're the only one in Westeros who needs reminding."
Rather than answer, Jaime stared around, putting together a general idea of their location. With the time they had been traveling and the landscape surrounding them, he was fairly certain they were only a short distance outside of King's Landing. He sent a silent prayer up to the Seven that Kyren would live until he reached her.
While he pushed forward through the trees, attempting to find a promising spot to make camp before the setting sun departed completely, he heard Arya speaking lowly behind him. Rather than answering with his usual grunts, the Hound appeared to be talking. That alone was enough to rouse Jaime's curiosity, but the subject matter made his blood run cold.
"If Jon's the true heir, a trueborn son of a Stark and a Targaryen, why is Daenerys taking the Iron Throne?" the Hound's deep voice rumbled.
"He says he doesn't want to rule," Arya replied. "Besides, I think she would kill him if he showed any interest. We thought she was going to when he insisted on telling us."
"If it's such a damned secret, why are you telling me?" the Hound asked sharply.
Arya laughed joylessly. "Because I would rather be dead by her hand than allow her to rule Westeros. Sansa told Tyrion before he left Winterfell, and he claimed he intended to pass the information along to Varys on the journey south."
"Why in the Seven Hells did she tell the imp?"
"Because Tyrion knows she's dangerous," Arya said without remorse. "If he knows there is a better option, something may yet be done."
The two fell silent then and they made camp shortly afterward. As always, there was little conversation around the fire, but tonight, the silence did not bother Jaime. He had far too much to think about. After their quiet meal, the three rolled out bedrolls in silent solidarity and Jaime was left to his thoughts.
Jon Snow, true heir to the Iron Throne… It possessed a strange sort of logic. Jon was better suited to rule than anyone Westeros had seen in a long time. The Lannisters had always been cursed with an overabundance of pride - even the ones who should have been too young to amass such power - and Robert Baratheon had wanted to take the throne, not hold it. Before him, the Targaryens had been either strong, benevolent rulers or corrupt, mad despots. There was no middle ground.
As the old adage claimed, every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin… The madness had clearly passed Jon Snow by. The longer Jaime considered such a thing, the more certain he became that Jon was the only chance Westeros had at a promising future. With that settled, he melted into his bedroll and spent the following hours blissfully unconscious and grimly determined to reclaim Kyren from his sister.
When they arrived at King's Landing early the next morning, Jaime's mind still mulled over the revelation of Jon's parentage, but he had to push the thoughts from his head. People streamed into the city from every direction, all moving directly toward the Red Keep. Jaime knew in an instant what his sister had planned. The more civilians with whom she surrounded herself, the safer she would be from Daenerys.
However, thinking back on the strange fire in the Targaryen's eyes, Jaime was uncertain this was true. If Jon had not received the infamous Targaryen madness, there was only one other possible living recipient.
"Your Grace," Qyburn simpered at Cersei's elbow. "The Targaryen usurper approaches the city."
Cersei did not rush to answer, savoring a mouthful of wine before she replied, "Signal Euron to fire the weapons at her and her beasts."
"I did, your grace. Several times. He did not respond. Both of the dragons are nearly upon us."
"Euron did not respond?" Cersei asked with a frown. "Are you certain he saw the signal?"
"Quite certain, your grace," Qyburn quavered. "He nodded at the signal, but fired his scorpions at our walls instead."
"I beg your pardon?" she said sharply, but did not wait for a reply. "Have we fired back?"
"Our scorpions have been disabled and they would require a great deal of time to repair. It appears that Euron Greyjoy no longer fights on our side."
"It would appear not. Order our men to focus their efforts on the usurper's army. Fire at the Iron Fleet only in retaliation if they train their weapons upon us again." Qyburn nodded, but did not move away. Biting back a sigh, Cersei turned to face him more fully. "Was there something more, Grand Maester?"
"Your brother has been sighted just outside the city. He is in the company of the traitor Sandor Clegane and an unknown woman. What do you wish to be done?"
Cersei smiled sardonically. "Close the gates to the Red Keep. If he wishes to reclaim his love, he must fight to be sure it is done. When you have given the order, return here. We will remain here for the duration of the usurper's attempt at warfare."
Qyburn inclined his head slightly. "Would you have the Mountain here with us as well, your grace?"
"Clegane is with my brother, you say?" Qyburn nodded once and Cersei pursed her lips in thought. "Well, what harm would there be in facilitating a reunion of sorts? Yes, bring the Mountain when you return. Just do so quickly."
He left the chamber, closing the door softly behind him. Cersei gave a contented sigh in the quiet, then turned to her guest. "Forgive me, child. I did not intend to ignore you. Rest assured, you will soon have my full attention."
Kyren stood straight in her bonds, not struggling as Cersei had expected. Then again, there was little use for struggling when one was chained to a wall. Cersei glided closer, sipping contemplatively from her goblet as she did so. The mutt was not such an ugly little thing, despite her lack of classical beauty. Her eyes were striking, to say the least, and the way her expressions flickered across the expressive face… it was the opposite of everything Cersei had been trained to do. Her tattered clothing, wild hair, and scarred skin did not detract overly much from her appearance, instead only adding points of interest.
The girl's silence would have been disconcerting if Cersei had not possessed such an interesting thing as a battle upon which to focus. As it was, she had only heard the girl speak a handful of times. She knew what Cersei wanted from her and Cersei was not willing to hear pleas for mercy, so there was little more to say.
Still, Cersei wanted to needle her guest, if even just a little. "Worry not, my dove. Jaime is on his way and we shall at last sort out this confusion."
"I see little confusion," Kyren said, voice hoarse with disuse and lack of water. "Your brother loved you unnaturally and he loves you still. He comes here for you. I expect you shall retreat to some distant land to share your love openly."
"Yes," Cersei purred contentedly. "However, we cannot go while you remain between us. I will ask him to kill you and we can live together in peace with the memory of your death. A fitting punishment, I think, for daring to love him."
Kyren did not reply, choosing to stare over Cersei's shoulder at the view of King's Landing from the window. Cersei smiled to herself, but moved back to the same window, taking pleasure at the idea that she was blocking Kyren's view, at least in part.
Even when the dragons began swooping down over the city, the absent smile remained pasted on her face. Jaime would be there soon, and everything would work out. Cersei always felt she could conquer the world, if only she had Jaime by her side.
Jaime hated dragons.
Jaime hated dragons.
Jaime fucking hated dragons.
The larger of the two - the beast bearing Daenerys on its scaled back - dove down overhead, whipping its mace-like tail to collapse any structure not scorched by the burst of flame it released. Jaime and the Hound darted over to the opposite side of the street to avoid falling chunks of centuries-old stone, though the dust kicked up from the street blinded both for far too long.
"Over here!" Arya cried, having moved through the crowds much faster than the Hound's bulk or Jaime's notoriety had allowed. An oversized fist latched onto Jaime's tunic and he obligingly followed as the Hound towed him across the dust-clogged streets.
When they finally reached Arya, standing small and slight in the dusty gloom, she looked impatient. "We need to get to the Red Keep before the way is completely blocked."
The Hound grunted loud enough that Jaime could hear it over the din. "We also need to avoid being crushed by falling buildings and fleeing peasants, little wolf. This way."
He led them through streets wider than the ones on which they had traveled so far. Jaime kept Arya between himself and the Hound. She needed little protection, but his sense of chivalry had not decomposed to the point that he would leave a mere girl to struggle behind two warriors in what was quickly becoming a true war zone.
It had been a wise choice, he reflected as the Hound stopped abruptly and Arya bumped into his back. Jaime had no doubt that he would have been killed by the hulking Clegane had the same thing happened. He stepped around the Hound's broad back to see why they had stopped and blew out a breath at the sight in front of them.
The Golden Company was pinned at an intersection of buildings. Wildlings, Dothraki, and Northmen surrounded them on all sides, but the true threat was Daenerys and Jon, each atop a dragon perched on nearby buildings. Everyone fixed their attention on the leader of the Golden Company, who surveyed his surroundings with dismay. At last, when the tension was as thick as the dust and ash in the air, he threw down his sword with a clang.
Moments later, the city bells began to ring. The pealing seemed to be a sign, as the remainder of the Golden Company tossed their weapons to the stones beneath their feet in obedience to their leader.
Daenerys, cutting a commanding figure atop the twisted shape of the larger of her two dragons, shouted to the gathered crowds below. "I, Daenerys Targaryen - Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, and the Breaker of Chains - declare that I have conquered King's Landing. The usurper by the name of Cersei Lannister will be executed and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne will return."
She sat back on the beast and gave a benevolent smile as the crowds began to cheer. However, the joy dropped from her face as the people began to chant:
"Long live King Jon!"
"He is the Prince who was promised!"
"Long may Snow reign!"
"From the Wall to the Throne!"
Arya pulled back, seeming both startled and impressed. "Varys must have sent his ravens after all," she mused, but Jaime could not ask any further questions, having focused his full attention on the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.
The change that came over Daenerys's face was abrupt and worrisome. Her expression darkened further and further until Jaime was forcibly reminded of her father at his most mad. Jaime's spine straightened inexplicably, but the wrath of this Targaryen was not directed at him.
Daenerys snarled, a sound that would have sounded more at home coming from the dragon she sat astride. Her wild eyes locked on Jon, who shook his head frantically.
"I don't want it! I've never wanted it!" he cried, but she paid him no attention.
"I will not have my throne rid of one usurper only to fall to another! I will not allow it! This is my city and these are my kingdoms! I have earned them with fire and blood, and I will use the same to keep them safe." She grew suddenly, terrifying still, eyes flashing hard like amethysts reflecting flame. "Dracarys."
"Move!" The Hound bellowed urgently, shoving Jaime none-too-gently.
"Where?" he shouted back over his shoulder, noting the protective arm the Hound had placed around the small Stark girl. It appeared to be the only thing keeping her standing in the rush of people Jon was ordering away from the carnage. "The gates to the Red Keep are closed!"
"If they're still standing," the Hound replied grimly, "they won't be for long."
If Cersei squeezed her goblet any harder, it was likely to break. Much as Kyren would like to see the older woman bleed, Cersei would probably let it go untreated until she died from the blood loss. It would not do to see her fall to anything so mundane.
"Do you hear that?" Cersei murmured, almost too softly to be heard. "They intend to surrender. They intend to give my city over to the white-haired bitch because she has a dragon."
"Two dragons," Kyren corrected before she could think better of it.
In the space of a moment, Cersei had shattered her goblet and strode toward Kyren with a look of murderous fury in her emerald eyes. She had drawn a slender knife from a hidden place in her voluminous sleeves and stood gripping the blade as if deciding where to begin. "If I am to lose my city, my throne, and my life, I will ensure she loses something as well. It has been reported to me that you lived with the Dragon Queen for some time before the battle of Winterfell. You must be important to her in some way. I will take you from her…"
The cold press of the knife against Kyren's throat was hardly a shock and it soon deepened until she fought the urge to cough from the pressure. Any such movement of her throat would only serve to help the blade cut her faster.
"Cersei, stop!" Jaime's voice rang through the chamber, drawing the attention of both women, Qyburn, and the Mountain, though the latter's gaze may have been due to the Hound's presence.
"Jaime," Cersei greeted pleasantly. "I knew you would arrive soon. Have you come to kill me before the Targaryen girl does? I heard my people have given themselves over to her. It is only a matter of time before my head is mounted on a pike like dear old Ned Stark's."
Arya stepped out from behind the Hound at that, bringing a smile to Cersei's face while forcing a groan from Kyren. There was little hope Arya would survive this encounter. Why had Jaime brought her along? Why had he come, himself? Likely to reconcile with his one true love, she thought, bitterly.
"I have no intention of killing anyone, Cersei," Jaime said, his voice low and soothing. "I came only to collect Kyren."
"Ah, yes. Kyren. What is it you find so bewitching about this girl? Is it her pretty hair?" She seized a handful of Kyren's hair, slicing it away with a quick dash of her sharp knife. As it floated to the ground, Cersei suggested, "Her pretty skin?" With another rapid motion, she opened a deep cut above Kyren's collarbone. "Her pretty eyes?"
As Cersei placed the bloody blade just below Kyren's right eye, Arya and Jaime shouted in a simultaneous cacophony and all three stepped forward.
"Qyburn," Cersei snapped.
Qyburn, both in turn and at the same moment, ordered, "Clegane."
The Mountain stepped forward. He did not change his stance or move quickly, but the sheer size of his body made the motion a threat. Arya and Jaime stopped instantly. The Hound, though his face lost the little color it had, was slower to respond.
Qyburn spoke in the silence, his quavering voice ill-matched with his jeering tone. "Sandor Clegane, you lacked the bravery to attack your brother when he was only a man. Do not pretend that you are any more able to face him now that he is something more. Especially with his new weapon."
The Hound raised the sword he had been holding along one of his legs, brandishing it clumsily. The Hound frowned, obviously searching for a trap, and it was evident when the entirety of the blade burst into flames. At the sight, Sandor Clegane stepped back from his brother.
"It is such a pity that you allowed the Dragon Queen into our city, Jaime," Cersei continued, undaunted by the scene before her. "I would have chained Kyren to the wall, watched her muscles waste away as I kept her barely alive. She would grow small and pale and weak, her hair falling out, her skin shriveling, her eyes losing their light. Then, when I finally allowed her to die, I would have commissioned a portrait of her remains. I have a similar one of Ellaria Sand and her lovely daughter Tyene. I poisoned Tyene, let her mother watch as her daughter died and decomposed before her. A fitting punishment for Myrcella, would you not agree, Jaime?"
"You've gone completely mad," Jaime replied, revulsion thick in his voice.
"You made me this way," Cersei snapped, but became distracted by the screams emanating into the room from the open window. "She means to destroy my city. She'll burn anything and anyone to get to the Iron Throne. Just like her father."
"I did not allow her father to burn the city, and I will not allow her to, either."
"That is correct," Cersei mused softly. "You fought against a Targaryen once and survived, all without a peasant girl to serve as an incentive. Perhaps you will do so again. Perhaps there is hope for us still…"
She started toward Kyren, clutching her blade once more, but Jaime stopped her with an outburst. "Cersei! You cannot do this. Release her and… we shall run away together. We can start a new life in Essos or Sothoryos."
"You loved me once," Cersei returned sadly. "There were times we threatened to do just that so we could live together freely. But now you agree only to save this whore's life."
Kyren scoffed openly. "No, he would highly appreciate the chance to profess his love openly without utmost privacy or the need for another to stand in your stead while he imagines the situation."
Jaime glared fiercely at her, giving a shake of his head. Whether it was meant to signal her not to speak or berate her for revealing his deficiencies in mixed company, she did not know. He faced Cersei directly, "What does it matter why I offer? It stands regardless."
"And if I refuse to make the trade? If I will not trade a life with you for sparing the girl? If I insist that she must die, Jaime, would you still want a life with me?"
"No," Jaime said reluctantly, sounding as though every word were dragged from a tight throat. "I- I am afraid that she must live."
Cersei's face hardened. "Would you truly sacrifice everything we have for someone who can offer you nothing? Perhaps, despite your apparent closeness, you were not aware of the great tragedy of your young love's life. Kyren cannot bear children."
There was an odd silence in the room, other than the sound of dragons screeching their way over the city and the screams of the people. Cersei looked triumphant as Kyren felt her face grow red. Arya remained blank-face as ever, having known this since shortly after Maester Luwin had revealed it. The Hound looked mostly impassive, though his eyes softened a bit in sympathy. Qyburn turned to study Kyren with an odd gleam in his eye. She could feel his desire to dissect her body, to study the problem until he came to a conclusion, but watching him was still preferable to seeing the disappointment or disgust that was sure to be on Jaime's face.
Jaime stared piercingly at Kyren. Memories burst in his mind's eye: the time he had mocked her for treating Sotam as a child, the times he had called her a little mother when he caught her helping the Stark girls, the off-hand comment she had made that the Starks were the only family she would ever know…
And now, the flush on her face made clear how hurt and ashamed she was about something she could not control. She clearly loathed this part of herself, but Jaime could not help but marvel at her. Kyren acted as though this were the worst part of her. Jaime had more to be ashamed of when he was a mere lad. He laughed heartily, drawing the attention of the room - other than the large, foul-smelling Clegane, whose flaming sword appeared to be cooking the rotting flesh of his hand. That creature was focused on his brother with murderous intent.
"With my past success rate, I do not claim any interest in fathering children in the future. If that was your best attempt to dissuade me, Cersei, you should know that no part of me remains that would like to create a large family."
"How can you speak of our children in such a manner?" Cersei bit out and Jaime's temper flared once more. "I gave you everything, once. I could again."
Though he had been laughing only moments before, Jaime found himself near to shouting. "Now you call them our children? I loved Joff and Tommen and Myrcella with my whole heart, but our relationship was never meant to benefit anyone but you. You were able to marry while I had to become a Kingsguard to remain close to you. You became the queen while I lived my life as a servant to your jealous husband. You could claim our children as your own while I had to be content with the role of uncle, one who could not know them too well lest anyone suspect the truth! You have never suffered for our love and I will no longer suffer for your weakness."
"Suffer? Shall we compare suffering, Jaime? I have lost my mother, my husband, all of my children, my freedom, and my future." Her lovely face grew sallow, twisting into a skeletal mask as her eyes glinted coldly. "I will survive losing you."
She stepped rapidly toward Kyren, brandishing her dagger once more. Jaime ran forward, dimly aware that his actions were mirrored by Arya and the Hound, but Cersei's beast of a personal guard brandished his flaming sword and moved to meet them.
"We'll stop him!" Arya cried with a quick look at Jaime. "You stop your sister!"
It took a great deal of courage for a Stark to trust that a Lannister would kill one of their own in order to save an outsider, let alone one with no riches, no connections. Still, Jaime acknowledged this trust, pushed the thoughts away, and focused all his energy on evading the Mountain's sword. He ran wide around the thing, avoided Qyburn, and pulled to a stop where Cersei held her dagger point-first over Kyren's heart as Kyren spoke.
"...You are the one he loves," Kyren said, conviction in her voice.
Jaime could not see the tip of the dagger as Cersei responded, but hoped it was concealed under Kyren's clothing rather than her skin. The pale, pained expression on her face said otherwise.
"I will survive losing you," Cersei told Jaime, and while the look of shock was still easing onto his face, she came to stand beside Kyren.
"Oh, Kyren. I've waited for this moment since we stopped at that gods-forsaken inn on the journey from Winterfell. I had ordered Jaime to seduce you, of course, and he was all-too-happy to agree. But when you were injured… He had never cared for me like that. Not when we were young, not when I bore his children, not even when we lost Joff. He loved you - yes, even so early - and I knew then that you had to die. Everything since has simply been an exercise in patience." Cersei placed her dagger point-first over Kyren's heart.
"He loves you and only you," Kyren argued. If she was to die, she would speak her piece first. "Even when we were at Winterfell, after fighting the Night King, you were first in his thoughts." Cersei hummed at that, so Kyren continued. "You are the one he loves."
Cersei began to press the dagger into Kyren's chest, her movements infinitesimal. "Yes, Jaime does love me, but he also loves you. For that alone, you both must die."
"I do not love you," Jaime said breathlessly.
Cersei gave him a sharp look even as she eased the dagger forward, and Kyren fought a gasp at the first sting of the blade piercing her skin. "It is too late for such claims, Jaime. I know you love her."
"I know as well," Jaime agreed. "It is you I no longer hold in any regard."
Growing utterly still, Cersei spoke with an icily-calm voice. "Very well. I will not give you the honor of a death by my hand. Qyburn?"
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"Have your beast take care of Jaime when he has finished with the others."
"I will, Your Grace."
Reminded suddenly of the others in the room, Kyren's eyes darted past where Cersei stood watching Jaime. The Mountain was armed with a flaming sword, but he was slow with it. Arya easily avoided his clumsy swings even as the Hound stood back with his face deathly pale. As Kyren watched, Arya lunged forward, stabbing the Mountain deeply in the gut.
The Mountain did not seem to feel the wound, instead moving to bring the heavy sword crashing down on Arya. On the far side of the struggle, the Hound bellowed and attacked his brother, meeting the flaming sword with his own in a ear-shattering clash. They fought for long moments, but it became clear that the Hound was too wary of the sputtering fire to best his brother.
"Sandor!" Arya shouted. "Move!"
Without hesitation, the Hound stepped aside, and Arya ran forward only to drop to her knees and slide under the Mountain's wide-braced legs. As she cleared him, she brought Needle around in a quick slice and severed the thick muscle in the back of the Mountain's leg. Felt or not, the beast could not move with such an injury and staggered until he landed heavily on one knee.
Arya darted over, moving so rapidly and so low to the floor that the eye could scarcely follow her. She stopped behind Qyburn, grasped his face with one hand, and held it still while she sliced his throat with the other. Qyburn's body dropped to the floor and - in the same moment - the Mountain's sword was extinguished.
The Hound knocked the weapon from his brother's hand easily enough, hacked off his arms one-by-one, and - with a final shout - chopped his head from his shoulders.
"No!" Cersei shouted, staring at the carnage in her chamber.
The dagger, forgotten in the furor of the Clegane brothers' fight, pressed forward once more and Kyren struggled to keep from shouting, but the pressure disappeared abruptly as Cersei was pushed away. Kyren was left gasping at the sudden pain: Cersei's dagger had opened a long, jagged gash from its place over her heart as Cersei had been forced away.
Jaime held his sister against the wall only feet away from Kyren, pressing Cersei back with his golden hand against her throat. His left hand held his sword, easily the most confident Kyren had seen him with a weapon since before the loss of his dominant hand.
"Jaime," Cersei murmured, looking up at him with a smile completely at odds with the screams outside and the rage on Jaime's face. "You will not hurt me. You could never hurt me."
He leaned closer and she stared at him tenderly, looking away only to fix her gaze on the sword he had buried in her heart.
"Jaime," she sighed, the blood already beginning to show on her lips. "My Jaime…"
Jaime pulled his sword away, followed by his hand a moment later. Cersei's unsupported body crashed to the floor as he whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
Kyren watched him silently, uncertain of how to proceed. The death of his sister, for all that it had saved Kyren's life, had clearly broken something inside of Jaime.
She was uncertain of how much time had passed when Arya, covered in blood, approached them. "Where is the key?"
"I do not know," Kyren answered. "I came here in chains and she never released me from them."
Arya sighed and approached Jaime where he was staring blankly at Cersei's body. "Jaime," then when there was no reply, she shook his shoulder. "Jaime. I need to know where Cersei would have kept her keys." He did not seem to register that, either. "We need to unchain Kyren and get away from King's Landing."
The use of Kyren's name as well as the rumble that shook the entirety of the Red Keep seemed to bring life back to Jaime. "Behind the sash at her waist. She always kept keys there."
With brusque motions, Arya searched the area Jaime had indicated, grinning triumphantly as she came up with a single key. It fit the lock and Kyren found herself standing free a moment later.
"I know you're injured, but can you walk?" Arya asked, eyes flicking over her visible injuries, and Kyren nodded. "Good. I'll help Sandor, you help Jaime. We'd best leave through the dungeons underneath the castle."
"The boat," Jaime interjected. "If we take the stairs from the map chamber, we will find a small boat on the waterside. It will carry all of us."
The journey down to the dungeons was slow, painfully so because of the Hound's injuries. He had been badly burned during the battle with his brother, and lost a great deal of blood, besides. Between Kyren and Arya, they kept him mostly upright while Jaime led the way ahead of them.
They got into the boat. Arya took hold of one oar while Kyren controlled the other. The cuts on her collarbone and chest opened with every pull of the oar and closed once more as she braced for another stroke.
She and Arya had been paddling for some time when the Hound hissed out through clenched teeth, "Where the bloody hell are we going?"
Kyren blinked at him in surprise. She had not considered a destination; the journey was proving difficult enough. Arya, however, was unbothered by the question. "There," was her simple answer.
With a groan, the Hound turned to see where she had indicated and turned back around quickly enough to force a shout from his throat. "The Iron Fleet?" he growled. "We fought Cersei and lived and you want us to turn ourselves over to her allies?"
"They are no longer her allies," Arya told him.
"That is true," Kyren added, cutting off his angry reply. "Qyburn told Cersei that Euron had ignored the signal to fire on the dragons and aimed at the wall of the Red Keep instead. All the scorpion weapons in the castle had been disabled as well."
"So we're to just trust that Euron fucking Greyjoy is on our side?"
"I believe that is our only option at this stage," Jaime pointed out, and indeed, it seemed that the lead ship of the Iron Fleet had seen them. In moments, it was bearing down on them and they were being pulled aboard by crewmembers in a few short minutes.
"Look who we have here," Euron Greyjoy taunted, strutting around in front of them with an arrogant expression on his face. "Traitors to the crown, are we?"
"We are loyal to ourselves," Arya answered boldly. "While you and your men are traitors to everything you are not paid to protect. Whose employ are you in now and have they ordered you to do anything with us?"
"We're Iron Islanders," Euron jeered. "We serve only our own interests."
"And the Faceless Men? Who do they serve?"
In a moment, Euron's expression grew blank. Slowly, his eyes warmed and one corner of his mouth lifted. "A girl always was clever."
"A man made sure of it," she agreed. "How did you take control of this ship?"
With a single, oft-practiced motion, Jaqen pulled Euron's face from his own. "The men on this ship and the others belong to the Many-Faced God. The nobles of Essos, Sothoryos, and Ulthos paid the Faceless Men untold riches to turn the battle."
"Why?" Kyren asked.
Jaqen shrugged. "Many would not see a Targaryen take the Iron Throne."
"Then why disable the scorpion weapons?" Jaime's frown was the most expression Kyren had seen from him since Cersei's death. "Surely they would be more able to kill Daenerys and her dragons than any other means?"
"But then Cersei would continue her rule," Jaqen countered. "A man's employers want only one on the Iron Throne: Jon Snow. But he remains in the city."
Kyren followed Jaqen's nod to look back at King's Landing. Most of the city was either in flames or ruins. The Red Keep was not exempt - though it had sustained less damage than the surrounding city, certain walls had collapsed and several towers were on fire.
"I have to go back," she said.
"Several Faceless Men will go ashore in minutes to put the final assassination plans in place. A girl may accompany them."
Arya immediately voiced her intention to come along, as did Jaime. The Hound attempted to join the group, but his wounds were deemed too severe. Arya stipulated that Kyren had to have her wounds seen to before she could re-enter King's Landing. Fortunately, one of the Faceless Men was handy with a needle and thread and Kyren's wounds were stitched handily before the boat departed for shore.
They separated from the Faceless Men shortly after reaching land and it took only minutes for Arya to locate Jon and Davos.
"Jon!" Arya shouted, and the two embraced fiercely for a moment before Jon pulled back.
"I thought all of you remained at Winterfell..?" he said with a frown.
"There is no time for explanations," Ayra interrupted. "Cersei is dead, so is Qyburn and the Mountain."
Davos looked to be fighting a grin at that as he turned to order some nearby Wildlings to join him in clearing a dangerously-leaning building. Jon, on the other hand, seemed far less amused.
"Dany is furious. Somehow, the people found out about my parentage and want me as king." He looked utterly lost at the prospect and Kyren had to stifle a chuckle, despite the gravity of the situation. "I told her I don't want it, but she… she's-"
"She's mad," Arya summarized flatly. "I told you so before you left Winterfell. She cannot take the Iron Throne. You must."
Jon sighed. "Even if I wanted to, how could I? Dany has dragons and two armies. I have the Wildlings and the few Northmen who did not choose to remain with their families."
"There are men here. Strange men…" Jaime told him. "They intend to place you on the Iron Throne one way or another. You must leave King's Landing until they have taken care of her armies."
Before Jaime had even finished speaking, Jon was shaking his head. "I cannot. There are people here, thousands of them. How can I go hide in the woods and leave them to die? How could I ever attempt to lead them after fleeing the most difficult situation they've ever faced?"
"Then we have to help you evacuate the city," Kyren said firmly. "Jaime and I will take the southern half, you two take the north. Divide your men however you wish, but do not place too high an emphasis on fighting her men. Jaqen and his men will take care of that. Focus on clearing the city. And we'll meet up again afterward."
"Jaqen? The strange man who helped in the Battle against the Night King?" Jon asked, clearly nonplussed.
Kyren only looked at Arya, who rolled her grey eyes. "Come on, Jon. I'll explain while we clear the city."
When they were alone, Jaime leaned close to Kyren. "I could use an explanation as well."
With a shake of her head, Kyren said, "If we make it out of this alive, I will tell you everything. Now, we need to get to the southernmost edge of the city."
"Here, this building has a cellar," Jaime called, voice pitched low to avoid any of Daenerys's men who were still patrolling. Kyren followed, weary to the bone with the efforts of the day.
They had spent the entirety of the day pulling King's Landing citizens from various buildings, directing them to the closest way out of the city before moving on to the next building. They had cleared a large portion of southern King's Landing with the help of the men Jon had sent to assist them, stopping only when the skies grew too dark to continue without arousing suspicion from Daenerys's armies.
Without food or water, a fire, or even a blanket to shield their bodies from the hard stone of the cellar floor, Jaime and Kyren collapsed into sleep.
It seemed it was only minutes later when Kyren woke to the sounds of cries. Jaime was still lying beside her, but his limbs were thrashing in the slow fervor of a nightmare. His groans were constant, interspersed with shouts loud enough that Kyren feared they would attract any passing guards.
She woke him - unwisely - with a hand pressed across his lips. In a moment, he had woken, seized her hands and rolled over her. Kyren found herself pressed against the cold stone of the floor with very little idea of how she had gotten there, staring up into Jaime's wild eyes.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. With a sudden jerk, Jaime pulled himself from Kyren and sat facing the opposite direction, his single flesh-and-blood hand covering his eyes. Not willing to let him isolate himself, Kyren moved to sit in front of him.
They sat in silence for a time. It felt as though it lasted forever, but finally Jaime spoke in a hoarse voice. "Have I gone mad?"
"No, you most certainly have not," Kyren assured him, settling a hand on his shoulder. The entirety of his body jolted at the touch, but Kyren persisted. "You are not the mad one in this situation. Your sister and Daenerys… They shared that affliction: an overwhelming lust for power."
She hated herself for bringing up Cersei. Jaime did not wince or grunt at her mention, but every line in his face abruptly deepened.
"I drove her to it," he muttered to himself, lowering the hand from his eyes to scrape over his jaw. His gaze searched the ground for something - what, Kyren did not know. "If I had remained in King's Landing rather than choosing to go north, I would have been here. I could have stopped her. I could-"
He cut himself off abruptly and made no move to continue. As gently as she could, Kyren said, "Remind me: how often have you managed to change your sister's mind in the past?" There was no answer, but the frantic motion of his eyes slowed to a stop. "There was little you could have done."
Though she waited, there was no response from him. He only sat slumped in a posture that must have strained his back. There was no sound around them, the area having been cleared by their earlier efforts. Occasionally, a dragon would fly by overhead, accompanied by screeches and the flapping of wings.
On one such circumstance, Jaime winced at a closer-than usual shriek of a dragon and Kyren spoke to cover the sound. "Did you know that no ruler has ever voluntarily vacated the Iron Throne?"
Jaime glanced up at her and she saw that he was tempted to ask if she had gone mad as well, but he was afraid of the answer. "It is true. In the days before Targaryen rule, when the throne of the Seven Kingdoms was made of stone and wood, a king would pass the throne on to his heir while he was still able to guide the new ruler. It was only after Aegon the Conqueror melted those swords to create the least comfortable chair in Westeros that kings began to leave strictly upon death. It is a peculiar madness, one affecting Aerys the Second, Robert Baratheon, Joffrey, Tommen, and your sister. The mere thought of it has obviously affected Daenerys." She shook her head. "All of this is to say that, no, you are not at fault."
They sat in the hushed cellar while Jaime pondered that. Finally, with a slight smile tugging at his mouth, he said, "You have never sat on the Iron Throne. How can you know how comfortable it is?"
"I have it on good authority," she answered lightly. Silence fell once more, but it seemed less thick.
"How is it that you are present at the worst moments of my life?" Jaime asked in the comfortable quiet.
"I was not there when you lost your hand, or when you killed Aerys Targaryen," she countered, dimly aware that dredging up the darkest memories of a grieving man was not the wisest choice, especially when he could easily kill her at any moment.
And he could. In a moment of clarity, Kyren realized that she would not be able to defend herself against him. She would not be able to bring herself to harm him, no matter the consequences. Despite it all, she loved him. She loved Jaime.
While Kyren was still reeling from her sudden epiphany, Jaime admitted quietly, "I wish you had been."
"You wish… that I had been there for those events?" she asked, confused.
"You always manage to make me feel better, like there is hope of a better future. No matter how bad things look at the time, they will get better." Jaime laughed abruptly. "Perhaps I am going mad."
Kyren moved to sit beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder. They sat, half-listening for the sound of patrolling Dothraki and Unsullied and half-enjoying the peaceful moment.
"I find myself worrying that this was all a dream," Jaime confessed. "That she still has you or worse, she's killed you."
"I am here; you rescued me from her. I'm alive because of you. Thank you. I owe you my life."
"As I've owed you mine for a long time," Jaime told her before joining their lips in a sweet kiss. When they finally slept once more, it was with Kyren combing gentle fingers through Jaime's short hair until he could sleep without dreaming.
Waking, however, was far less pleasant. The two were met with an array of weaponry. In a Valyrian-accented tone, an Unsullied soldier demanded that they rise and accompany him. "The Queen has ordered that any citizens in the city be brought to her."
Author's Note - Before anyone completely drags me for this chapter, I told you this story was going to get increasingly AU. This chapter and the next contain the biggest changes. Secondly, I completely made up Kyren's story about rulers not wanting to give up the Iron Throne. It's your choice whether you want to think Kyren made it up as well or read/heard it somewhere. I have limited experience writing people who are going/have gone insane. I hope that everything is coming through okay. If anyone has any advice, PM me!
Thank you to my two guest reviewers! Because I can't answer it privately, my guest who questioned Arya's reluctance to marry Gendry: no, he never specifically told her that he wanted her to be a proper lady, even in this AU version. However, Arya has been consistently worried about being forced into a more feminine role throughout the show - with good reason as there was a limited range of roles females could play in society until very recently - and I think that's a big part of the reason she turned Gendry down. She never showed any interest in exploring the unknown parts of the world, so I think this is at least partially why she refused to marry him.
Also, huge thanks to missingn0te, who has reviewed no fewer than SEVEN chapters! I super appreciate it, especially in the middle of an apocalypse. If you make it this far, missingn0te, know that you're my hero!
Okay, that should wrap things up for now. I'm doing my best to finish up the last two chapters as soon as possible. Review and I'll PM you the exact dates they're going to drop (or out of the goodness of your heart, whatever works for you)! Thanks for reading, have a great day, and I'll see you soon! Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay kind!