Space Dragon 5

- Jaime Lannister -

"Treachery!" it couldn't be called very surprising that this was the first thing Aerys screamed when his favorite pyromancer rushed into the throne room, covered in somebody else's blood. Then Rossart told him why he looked as he did, and the king repeated himself, "Treachery! Villainy! Curse Tywin Lannister to the blackest pit and the hottest flames!"

Jaime Lannister winces, and his hand slowly makes its way to his sword. There was no way he was going to let himself be roasted like the Starks or any of the thousand other people he'd had to sit and watch die. Of the people within the throne room, only Wrex might prove himself a threat.

The massive Krogan was eying him, too. The toothy smirk, made worse by the very sharp teeth it showed, let the kingsguard know exactly what the battlemaster thought of his chances. They stared at each other, Wrex with amusement and Jaime with trepidation, waiting for the shoe to drop.

Finally, it does, "Lannister!"

Jaime reluctantly turns his eyes back to the King, "Your grace?"

"Bring me your father's head!" The mad man orders.

Jaime's mouth drops open in an involuntary objection, but he knows that it will be useless. If he refuses he'll be killed; but he could fail. He could go hunting for his father, find a large swath of Lannister soldiers, and hunker down in some hallway where he could convince them to say they'd held him off until the King was killed.

Aerys would die, clearly. The city was lost and almost certainly burning as his father's bannermen had their fun. It all came down to whether or not Jaime would die with him, and he had no intention of doing so.

So instead of refusing to follow the orders given he bows his head slowly, turns to the door, and walks from the chamber. He is almost completely out before he hears the mad king say, "Rossart, have your disciples light the fires. I will ascend before I let the fucking lions or the pitiful wolves come to my doors!"

Fuck.

The pyromancer was going to light the wildfire, and that meant that Jaime would be dead by it no matter what he did. He slowed, then finally stopped just outside the doors to the throne room. They swing closed behind him as the moment drags on into infinity, choice and consequence laid out before him.

He could flee, run to his father and warn him so they could escape the city before it went up in flames. He could just run, try and catch the boat the Princess and her family were fleeing on. He could do nothing, and die like a kingsguard was meant to.

Or…

The doors swing open behind him before the thought can really form. The giggling pyromancer Rossart prances out with the skip of a man fifty years younger.

Before Jaime even realizes it, his sword is in his hand and his eyes are on the alchemist's back. It looks like he'd made his choice without even realizing.

- Urdnot Wrex -

"Rossart, have your disciples light the fires. I will ascend before I let the fucking lions or the pitiful wolves come to my doors!" Aerys orders.

The elderly alchemist beams, and asks, "Which would you like me ordered detonated first, your grace?"

Wrex watches as the mad human thinks for a few seconds, eventually ordering, "light the Sept of Baelor first. There will be divine fires lit against these traitors!"

"At once, my lord!" The pyromancer practically skips out of the chamber, and Wrex catches a glimpse of Jaime standing only a few feet away from the doors.

The old Krogan couldn't really say he blamed the kid. His boss was crazier than a vorcha with a rocket launcher, after all. Boy probably thought he'd have to fight his way out if he wanted to quit. Probaboly true to, he'd seen the way the Lannister had been eying him up.

It was funny, the boy thought he'd have fought him. Sure, he'd have protected the mad man on the pointy chair, but he'd have let the golden boy walk out without a scratch. He was getting paid to protect the pointy chair, not its principles. Honor and loyalty got you killed.

Speaking of, "so where are these jars, anyway?"

Aerys turns his eyes to him, and Wrex can see the mad battle going on. The king thought he was a dragon, the Urdnot looked like a dragon, he couldn't be cross with a dragon! That would be like being angry with himself and he was perfect in every way.

He'd seen the fight played out in a thousand ways over the centuries, always in a client that'd lost their grip on sanity and were sure they needed his help. They wanted him, so they couldn't be as antagonistic to him as they wanted.

"They are all throughout the city!" Aerys finally tells him, "Seeded for months by my trusted pyromancers."

"Yeah, but where?"

"The largest of the caches are here and in the Sept of Baelor," Aerys tells him, rubbing his hands together with glee, "When the Sept is destroyed, they will retreat, and if they do not we will light the flames beneath our wings and ascend to our true forms!"

Wrex blinks, it sounded like the human was telling him they'd blow them up. That wouldn't do at all, "so you're going out like a bitch?"

Aerys's eyes widen in rage, and he turns his gaze to the krogan fully, standing from his thrown, "They will burn for their insolence!"

"And so'll you," Wrex notes.

"I will rise from the ashes," Aerys corrects him, patronizingly, "I am a dragon, fire cannot harm me."

Wrex tilts his head to the side, eyes several of the burns on the king's robes and a few of the ones on his skin and snorts, "right."

The king rises to his feet like an enraged varren, "I will not be taunted by some mercenary frog! If you take that tone with me again I'll have you roasted alive!"

"Really?" Wrex pulls himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against, walking to the base of the stairs leading to the throne. Then he looks around dramatically.

The chamber is empty, devoid of all but the two of them.

"And who's going to do it for you?"

The king screams in rage, and Wrex watches him pull a jar from behind his back, "I shall do it myself!"

The jar, a clay pot with a stopper on one end, doesn't look at all sturdy enough to offer safe travel for a substance as supposedly dangerous as Wildfire. From what Jaime had told him, Wrex likened the stuff to a horrific mix of regular old fire and thresher maw acid. Both, in the end, were lethal to Krogan.

That was why he threw the axe Aerys had given him at the king almost as soon as the jar was pulled.

- The Silence -

Aria T'loak rocked with the waves, watching the city fade into the distance slowly but surely, "And they won't be following us?"

Standing beside her, working the wheel, Euron Greyjoy doesn't even bother to turn around and look at her or the city, "Not a chance in the seven hells. None but the Lannisters have a fleet, and that's on the other side of the continent."

"So useless?"

"Aye."

The asari nods and turns around, looking forward and into the blank horizon, "how long will it take us to reach Dragonstone?"

"Not a clue," Euron tells her happily.

"Excuse me?" She narrows her eyes at him.

"Never done this run before," The pirate tells her, "Could give you an estimate, around a week if the winds are kind. But the sea's a harsh mistress and the Drowned God loves to play with his disciples."

"A week."

"At least."

Aria growls, but doesn't keep bothering him. She strides down the small flight separating the wheel from the main deck and over to her daughter. Liselle is entertaining the young princess Rhaenys, pointing at the stars and telling her the various constellations of the asari people. Only a few were positioned right to show to the girl, but her daughter was having a lot of fun explaining them to the child.

"I think Rhaenys has spent more time with your daughter than she has me the last few days," Elia notes quietly, stepping up beside Aria. She has a whistful, loving smile on her face, glad that she and her children are out of danger. Aegon, sleeping soundly in her arms, is rocked gently as she watches the two daughters.

Aria gives the woman a smirk, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not, she loves her," Elia assures the elder asari, no doubt worried that Aria was afraid that Rhaenys would be causing Liselle trouble.

The former queen of Omega chuckles, "That's very good, then."

"What do you mean?" Elia tilts her head to the side and furrows her brow, confused.

"My daughter is going to be molding yours into a perfect companion," Aria tells her.

Elia still doesn't seem to understand what she means, "And you think this is, what, scandalous?"

"We're in the middle of medieval bum-fuck nowhere, so it definitely will be," Aria chuckles.

Now Elia gets it, and her head rears back in shock, "Your daughter is taking mine as her… lover?"

"Well, not yet," Aria assures her, "she's just getting acquainted right now. She is a child after all."

"And the issue that they are both women?" Elia, being Dornish, had less of an issue with this than most other lords and ladies might have, but it would still be a problem when the last Targaryens wanted to make alliances, "you risk the wrath of the gods, after all."

"Ha!" Aria snorts and barks such an obviously fake laugh that most on the deck stop for a second and stare at her before getting back to work, "Didn't we tell you that Asari are all women?"

"You did," Elia nods, "But you are also immortal maidens from beyond the stars."

"Fair," Aria nods, "Doesn't mean we don't need to make babies. Who do you think we made them with before we met other species?"

"You mean to say you can… with women?"

"Oh yes."

"And what is the child? Some combination of human and… asari?"

"Just an asari," Aria tells her, "So get used to thinking of your little girl as a father, I am."

"I… do not know what to think of this," Elia confesses.

"Don't think about it," Aria pats her on the cheek and kisses her very hard on the lips, "There's nothing you can do to stop us."

The princess of Dorne remains rooted to the spot as Aria walks off, laughing to herself. It seemed that reality had warped, because where once she had seen pleasant – if strange – saviors, she now saw two women that were taking over her and her children's lives without any trouble and no way of stopping them. Now she had no idea what they would do when they reached Dragonstone.

Would they take it over?

Would they leave with her daughter?

Would they give them to Robert's Army?

Would they be returned to her brother in Dorne?

Would they be killed?

Question after question ran through her mind as she tried to figure out the rogue queen's plan. All she knew was that Aria T'loak and her daughter had once held power and were seeking a way to regain it in Westeros. They wanted to rule something; Aria derided the Iron Throne but proudly proclaimed herself Queen.

All Elia knew now was that her daughter at least would be safe, and for now that would have to be enough.

- The other side of the ship -

Not even fifteen feet away, a very different conversation was happening. Liselle was smiling down at her niece before looking back up, searching for a bit, and pointing back up, "And that is the Goddess Athame, the mother of the asari."

"That's the mother!" Rhaenys exclaims excitedly, "We have her too!"

"Really?" Liselle smiles, "isn't that something?"

"Does that mean you like it?"

"That our people share some commonalities? Yes, I like that quite a bit."

"Commalities?"

"Com-mon-al-ity," Liselle enunciates, "It means we are very alike."

"Yeah!" the little girl agrees. Then she looks up at Liselle from her place in the woman's lap, "Are we sisters?"

"Sisters? No, that would be a bit odd," Liselle tells her, "I'm more, an aunt or uncle."

"You can't be an uncle!" Rhaenys refutes, "You're a girl!"

"Then I guess I'm your new aunty, aren't I?" Liselle asks, recalling how fond Lewyn had been of the girl and realizing how much she was growing to like the child as well. It would be sad when the girl died, in fifty or so years.

- Before the Iron Throne -

Jaime Lannister rushed into the Throne Room, his sword bloody, intent on making some kind of difference. He stopped short as the doors slam shut behind him, staring in confusion.

The Iron Throne was wreathed in the green flames of wildfire, sitting calmly in the raging inferno as Wrex watched dispassionately, "Damn, I liked that axe."

"Urdnot?" Jaime ventures, "What the fuck?"

"Hm," Wrex turns, then when he sees who's entered he nods in greeting, "Kid."

"Wrex, what did you do?"

The krogan turns back to the flames, and Jaime does as well. He watches as a charred limb falls from the flames, itself on fire. Wrex carefully steps out of the way as it rolls down the stairs and plops onto the stone.

"Aerys planned on setting us on fire, I thwarted him."

"You couldn't have… I don't know, punched him instead?"

"He was up there, I was down here, he had a freaky jar and it didn't look good."

"Wildfire?"

Wrex raises an eyebrow, then waves dramatically at the pyre behind him.

"Apologies, stupid question."

"Yer damned right it was," Wrex chuckles, "Whelp, you should probably let everyone know the king is dead, might stop the fighting."

"What do I tell them happened?"

"Assisted suicide."

"What?"

"I told you, he was gonna set us both on fire," the battlemaster shrugs, "So I helped him."

"Without letting yourself get set on fire as well?"

"I don't like getting set on fire."

"You've been set on fire?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Last time was about a century ago."

"Last time?"

"I'm almost a thousand years old, runt, I've been set on fire a few times."

"That… how… wha…"

Before Jaime can think of more to say, the doors are thrown open behind them. Both spin, weapons raised, as a company of men in grey armor march in. They aren't assaulted, either because the men had orders or because they were surprised by the burning throne behind the two.

"Ser Jaime," Comes a call from a new man entering. He looked about Jaime's age, which was to say somewhere in his early twenties with more than fifty extra in experience piled on top of that.

"Lord Stark, good to see you," Jaime quips, "I would like to formally give the surrender of King's Landing."

The young lord nods and turns to one of his men, "Get word to Lord Tywin and our own forces, the city has surrendered."

"Yes, m'lord," the messenger nods and trots off.

Stark's eyes move from Jaime to Wrex, "You're the dragon that landed on our army at the battle of the Trident?"

"If you mean when our shuttle crashed, yeah," Wrex agrees, "But like I told crispy, I'm a krogan, not a dragon."

"Cris-" Eddard's eyes move to the burning throne, "The Mad King killed himself?"

"N-" "Yes."

Wrex interrupts Jaime, and the young kingsguard glares at him.

"Which is it?" Eddard asks.

"He was gonna try and set me on fire," the self-proclaimed krogan tells him, "And himself. So I assisted."

"You killed him, then."

"If you don't want to beat the pyjak, yeah, I killed him," Wrex shrugs.

Eddard blinks at the candor, then looks to Jaime, "And did you help him?"

"I got here a moment before you did," Jaime narrows his eyes and glares at the Stark, "I'd come to convince the King to surrender."

Lord Stark nods, then looks to Wrex, "Well, thank you, both of you."

"Me?" Jaime asks, now confused

"Even if you did not help slay him, you were willing to try and convince him to surrender," Eddard tells him, "And then when he was slain you did so yourself."

"No point in fighting if the king's dead and the prince is out of the city," Jaime shrugs.

"The prince is out of the city?" Ned asks.

Wrex is the one who talks this time, "Left a few hourse before you land your boys started fighting."

"Why?"

"Aria wanted to leave and Liselle wanted the kids safe."

"Who?"

Jaime enters back into the conversation, "The other two visitors that came with Wrex, here."

"The mermaids?"

"Apparently they call themselves Asari," The kingsquard corrects.

"Whatever they call themselves they now hold three valuable hostages," All three turn their heads to look to the door. Tywin Lannister stalks into the Throne Room like the man who owned it, glaring at the Iron Throne, "So Aerys was truly as mad as they say."

Eddard looks from the other Lord to the burning throne, then to Wrex, "More or less, it seems."

"Jaime," Tywin nods to his son, happy to see the boy alive but still unable to show more emotion than a relieved blink. His eyes then turn to Wrex, who wasn't even looking at him.

"I thought you're species only got so tall," Wrex notes, looking at the first man to match his height since he crashed on the planet. The human, a tall and bulky fellow, returns the glare with the kind of mad anticipation of violence that he'd see in young Krogan before they underwent their proving.

"Ser Gregor is larger than most," Tywin says, dragging Wrex's eyes down to him, "but more importantly than his size the question as to what do we do with you?"

"You don't do anything but pay me," Wrex tells him, "King's dead, I did it, pay me."

"A mercenary?" Lord Stark's opinion of the krogan drops meteorically in less than a second.

"Yeah, got a problem with that, human?" Wrex turns a glare to the young lord.

To Eddard's credit, he doesn't back away. He does clench his jaw and admit fault, though. As much as he disliked mercenaries and sellswords, they had their uses. If killing the Mad King wasn't useful, he didn't know what was. His only regret would be that he'd been unable to land the final blow.

Most importantly, though, he didn't want to pick any fights unless he had to, he still needed to find his sister, "No, I apologize."

Wrex nods, and his regard for the human returns to about where it was before the disparaging remark: a polite but emphatic who gives a fuck about your opinion?

"If you are in need of payment for services rendered, we will negotiate about it in the morning," Tywin tells him, "For now, we must change the banners in the city and alert our forces that the city has been claimed."

Ned nods, "Once the city is secure, I am to relieve Storm's End."

"I can hold the city well enough," Tywin tells him, "Lord Stannis has had to deal with the Reachmen for long enough, I think."

"Agreed," Lord Stark nods, then he looks to Wrex and Jaime, "What of Ser Jaime, he may be your son but he is still a Kingsguard."

Eyes turn to Jaime, who shrugs, "King's dead, until I get a new one I think I should stay out of trouble."

"A good point," Tywin agrees, "You've done your duty as kingsguard, I think it's time you come home and do your duty as my heir."

"That's not what I-"

Wrex slaps him on the back, "Ha, look at that, blushing like a Quarian with her hood down!"

None of the humans have any clear idea what a Quarian is, and decide not to press the issue. Instead Tywin tells the large alien, "In the meantime, please go with my brother, he will compensate you for your service."

Gerion Lannister steps up, "This way, big guy, let's get you paid!"