Seventh Month 281 A.L. King's Landing

King Aerys II Targaryen

So this was how it was to end was it? His son had betrayed him and fought a war to take the throne, Aerys knew he had not been in his right mind for some time, ever since Duskendale his mind had given up on him and the visions and the pain of the nights caught up with him. His life had been so full with promise before Duskendale and before he allowed the whispers of Tywin and his power cravings got to him. He was not proud of the things he had done since Duskendale, no more than he was proud of the fact that most of the time he could not remember what he had done due to the madness and the erosion to his mind. Of course, Aerys was so very disappointed in his son, in a sense because he had thought Rhaegar too much of a loyal and good son to ever try and remove Aerys from the throne, and also because the boy was too stupid or had his head in the clouds to realise that he would be tied down to his lords more than Aerys ever had been. That was why he had decided that if Rhaegar could not wait for the throne, he would not get it, King's Landing and the Iron Throne would go up in smoke and the people of King's Landing with it.

His remaining councillors were trying to persuade him against this course of action. Grand Maester Pycelle a traitor if ever there was one was speaking very, very quickly his brow sweating. "Your Grace, surely there is another option to the one you are suggesting. Setting the city on fire will do nothing but earn you the ire of the people and the kingdoms. Do you truly wish to be remembered as the mad king who burnt his city down to spite his son? Surely a compromise could be reached with Prince Rhaegar?"

Aerys snorted and looked at the man and said simply. "No. Rhaegar's advisors will make sure that I am imprisoned and chained and tried like a common criminal. I will not subject myself to that humiliation. I will go out on my own terms and I will teach my son a valuable lesson in the process."

Pycelle tried a different tactic. "The send out a party of men and tell Prince Rhaegar to lay down his weapons as well as those of his advisors and allies, otherwise you shall not let him into the city and those of his allies who still have family left here shall suffer until he does so."

Aerys was silent a moment and then he said. "Hmm I shall contemplate what you have suggested Pycelle Now go back and scurry towards whatever rats you have left in this city. For soon enough you might not have enough time to do the basic things your order is supposed to do." Once Pycelle had bowed and left the throne room, Aerys turned to his hand the pyromancers Rossart and asked him. "How many caskets of the fire are there and are they ready to go?"

Rossart was a slimeball, Aerys knew a man whom he would not have trusted in his younger days, hells even now he did not trust him but he was a pyromancer not a politician. "There are ninety casks spread out across the city waiting for your word Your Grace. And they are ready to go at a moment's notice. I promise you that there shall be only ruins left once the deed is done. Prince Rhaegar shall not have a city to rule over."

Aerys smiled at that and then turned to look at the one remaining Kingsguard he had, Ser Denys Arryn, who had stayed in King's Landing whilst his sworn brothers Ser Gerold, Ser Jonothor and Ser Barristan had fought at the Trident, Ser Gerold and Ser Jonothor were dead Barristan had gone over to Rhaegar, Ser Arthur rode with Rhaegar, Ser Oswell was lying dead somewhere in the Riverlands and Prince Lewyn was in Dorne. Ser Denys was a good man if a bit naive, he would have done well under Ser Duncan. "Ser Denys you have been quiet of late, what do you think I should do then? Let my son in and see my hard work put to the sword, or burn him out of a city?"

Ser Denys looked distinctly uncomfortable at that but swallowed and said. "I believe that you should do as you see fit Your Grace. Prince Rhaegar is a traitor and he needs to be punished accordingly."

Aerys clapped his hands in delight and said. "Ah yes my faithful lapdogs sworn to speak like parrots. Very well, Ser, I want you to go and find Pycelle, kill him and then return here with his head. I do not want any ravens being sent out today." The man bowed and left, and Aerys turned to Rossart and said. "Prepare a cup for our knight to drink when he returns." The man nodded and did just that. As they waited for Ser Denys to return, Aerys found himself wondering not for the first time what had led his grandfather to wed him to Rhaella, his sister had been a beautiful girl when they were younger so filled with laughter, she should have wed someone more deserving of her, but alas some stupid prophecy had brought them together, and their son was going to ruin their dynasty by trying to bring it to fruition. Sometimes Aerys was glad he could not think straight, otherwise he might have ordered Rhaegar's death years ago. The door opened and Ser Denys walked in holding Pycelle's head. "Ah good work Ser. Now lay the head here at the feet of the throne and take the drink from Rossart you must be very thirsty." Ser Denys took the drink and downed in one, his screams were loud and piercing, Aerys laughed then and said. "I knew you were a traitor from the moment you walked in Denys Arryn. As was your whole family." The man's body exploded into pieces, and Aerys looked at it like he would a stain on the floor. He turned to Rossart and said. "Set the match." And as Rossart lit a the spark and then dropped it onto the plinth, the throne room caught fire and Aerys Targaryen died laughing.