Chapter 12: Ever-Changing Chaos
No one should ever doubt that Robert Baratheon cared about Ned Stark. In response to the news of Stark's disappearance, the King called upon the small council to appear beside him in the throne room as he evaluated various witnesses and suspects.
At least Jaime was not alone; there was a good group of Lannister guards standing around. A few nodded as Jaime entered with Cassel and the Stormlanders and Tyrell close behind.
One of the Stormlander guards pushed Jaime; in response Jaime lazily pushed him back. "I'm coming, frisky bastard. No need to be a prick."
While the Stormlander guards surrounded Jaime and Cassel on all sides, Renly and Loras swaggered over to an empty chair behind the small council table. As Renly took his seat, Loras stood guard behind his lover.
Stupid Pycelle gave Jaime a frantic shake of the head. The old buffoon needed to relax.
The current witness presenting in front of King Robert was some elderly man. "Give he me horse. Red clocks came eh took he. Tall dark hair man. Sure saw the wolf on he."
"If this innkeeper's testimony is to be believed, it lends credence to my brother's accusation of Lannister involvement." Robert nodded his head before drinking from his goblet. Wine splattered around the table in front of him. "Eh, Kingslayer! Good for you to join us! Do you have anything to say?" The big oaf then turned to the elderly man. "Go away old codger, I heard enough of your tale."
Jaime wished he had a glass of wine to drink before he joined the show. Anything to ease the tension boiling within him.
As Jaime strutted over, Cassel stupidly followed at his heels. That man had severe separation anxiety. Was Cassel secretly a wolf? "I am sorry that good old Stark has disappeared, your Grace. It is frightening to think that a man can become a part of my daily life. I began to secretly call him my dour stalker. Imagine my dismay and astonishment when dear Renly told me about his disappearance today."
"My idiot brother seems to think you are involved," Robert began jovially. "I heard some people say things that make me reason you Lannisters might be the culprits. Take the old codger who told me of Lannister guards kidnapping poor Ned three days ago."
"If there is any," Jaime responded in equal cheerfulness. "It is not from my sister or me. I believe, in all honesty, that there is no Lannister involvement whatsoever. I believe it all comes to Baelish."
"My Master of Coin? Where did you get that outrageous idea?" Robert chortled and spat out some wine.
Jaime turned to the man in question. Baelish smiled pleasantly, twitching his eyebrows.
"Say Lord Baelish, care to say where you have taken the Hand of the King?"
"I am afraid you are mistaken, Ser. I am not involved in Lord Stark's disappearance. He is a dear friend of mine." Baelish said with false horror.
"More like you like to fuck his wife. We all know your wildest dream is to wallow in her pretty red hair," Jaime gabbed. "Tell us where you took him. I know you're the one."
"As the Gods are my witness, I swear I am not involved in Lord Stark's disappearance," Baelish swore and bowed his head.
"Why do you think Lord Baelish is involved, Kingslayer?" Robert said.
For years, Jaime thought of the worst of the man. In this current moment, Jaime realized Robert was better than the tyrants of his past. At least he offered people a chance to tell their side of the story. Not that Jaime liked him. Robert was still a grubby whoremonger who harmed his dear sister.
"About four days ago, your Grace," Jaime began. "Lord Stark, Cassel, and I heard a curious tale from Ser Preston Greenfield. According to Ser Preston, Baelish orchestrated Jon Arryn's death by convincing Lysa Arryn, who's obsessed with Baelish to kill her husband, and then blackmailed Ser Preston into hiring the assassin that almost killed your son, Prince Tommen, and Lord Stark's son, Bran. I fear Baelish has taken Lord Stark to stop you from hearing this story from a person you trust. That's why we haven't said anything until now. I was waiting for Stark to tell you. I thought it would be better for you to hear from him."
Cassel moved next to Jaime; Jaime noticed bewilderment in his face. "You better explain accusing Lady Arryn later," Cassel muttered in his ear, before shouting to the crowd. Shit, Greenfield must have not shared Lysa Arryn's involvement. "He is telling the truth. I was there as well. I heard Ser Preston say Lord Baelish orchestrated Jon Arryn's death. Lord Stark asked me to guard Ser Preston, which I and the other Stark guards had done. I concur that Lord Baelish is likely involved in my Lord's disappearance. He must have blackmailed someone else into kidnapping my Lord."
"Stories. Stories. So many stories. Which one am I supposed to believe?" Robert gobbled down some more wine. "Ned, my dear friend, what is the truth?"
"The truth is, dear brother," Renly chimed in. "The Kingslayer and his lover are trying to fool you. The truth is he and his sister have committed the greatest sin."
If Cersei was here, she would certainly scream with burning emerald eyes, 'How dare you! I'll gut you dry for trying to harm me and my twin.'
Jaime squirmed. It was a good thing Cersei was not in the room. "Your Grace, Renly is trying to create discord because he wishes to usurp you. I know you have little care for me or my family, but think, dammit, if he wins, his mad plot could lead to my family destroying all you built as King based on you believing lies."
"Do not dare act like you are blameless!" Renly turned to glare at Jaime. "You defiled the King's wife; manipulated your poor sister to commit adultery. You have dared to lay with your twin sister for years and sire bastard children that you are pretending to be my brother's heirs."
A clutter of astonished shouts and laughter uproar across the room. Robert surged up, causing his wine goblet to spill; his nostrils flaring. Beside Jaime, Cassel shook his head and whispered, "Do not worry. I do not believe a word Renly says. He just wants to hurt you and your sister."
Jaime pitied the man; he was so desperate to believe the best in someone so sinful. A very similar person to Ser Brienne.
Jaime knew that denying was the best course of action. "You are weak. You are so desperate to be king that you're going to try to hurt your good sister by spreading lies." Jaime breathed easier as he noticed Robert's facial expression turn from ire to calm interest. "I cannot believe you, Renly Baratheon. Do you have any respect for your family? Will you really risk the lives of your niece and nephews in your foolish ambition to become King?"
"I'm the king Westeros deserves! Not a whoremongering, alcoholic cretin who's leaving the realm in debt!" Renly shouted back.
His curly-haired lover clasped his hands over Renly's mouth, and then told the court, "Renly does not mean that, your Grace. He is simply angered over the Kingslayer's continual lies. You must question that for the first time ever that Baratheon heirs are all blond-haired instead of brunette."
"Robb Stark. Sansa Stark," Jaime said confidently. Thank goodness, he spent nights preparing this answer for this possible event. "They are all red headed like their mother. Renly is spouting nonsense to back a terrible lie that will cause the death of your innocent children, your Grace, if you choose to believe him. Perhaps he will claim Stannis is a bastard next or that he killed Jon Arryn."
Renly clenched his fists and screamed at Robert. "He's nothing but a liar. I'm here telling the truth. I have Myrcella under guard by Stark's guardsmen for you. To ensure you can decide what to do with the bastard. Unfortunately, no one has seen the Queen or Joffrey all day. It's like they know I know of their treachery, and they want to escape punishment. They must be tried! They betrayed the Baratheon reign!"
Could Cersei be…?
He and Bronn returned home from the Twins to find the Sept of Balor burned to the ground. Burned bodies, and debris of rocks and ash lying everywhere. He could only imagine how it felt amongst those people waiting for the seven Septons' trial to begin one moment and to die the next.
No. Cersei was still sane. There will be no burning of their enemies. Especially not while Myrcella was in danger.
Robert glanced back and forth between Jaime and Renly before chugging down more wine, and beckoning Jaime's cousin, Lancel, to bring him more. "Renly, this council meeting is about finding Ned. It is not extorting me to rule out punishment for your vendetta against the Lannisters. It is not about you challenging my children to be my heir. It is not about you claiming that you could ever be a better king than me. I tell you one thing that I know is certain that if you are ever king, you would be the worst one that ever came to Westeros."
Thank goodness Robert preferred to live in denial instead of recognizing the truth.
Renly bowed his head; a trickle of tears ran down his cheeks. "I am sorry, my dear brother. I had wished I could help you find Lord Stark and handle the Lannister threat before doing this. But it is time for the fawn to become the stag king."
Immediately upon hearing those words, the Stormlander guards and gold cloaks started to charge at the Lannister guards and the Kingsguard members. For a moment, Jaime watched as Ser Barristan blocked two gold cloaks from grabbing Robert. The bearish dunce was screaming at Lancel to grab his warhammer.
Then, Jaime felt the tinge of metal against his neck.
Dammit. What had become of Bran's promise that he chose Jaime because his return would prevent the war? Jaime had thought the Three-Eyed Raven knew everything. Evidently, Jaime was wrong.
Jaime easily pressed his elbow in his attacker's stomach, causing the man to drop his sword. Jaime stabbed this Stormlander and many others. Soon Jaime lost track of time. Push. Stab. Repeat. Push. Stab. Repeat. Cling. Stab. Stab. Stab.
All the Stormlander guards that had surrounded Jaime were dead. Jaime felt the familiar tinge of regret. So pointless. All this death for a foolish cause.
Jaime turned to Cassel who looked on the verge of vomiting. "The first time is the worst," Jaime told him.
"Not my first time. Remember, we fought together in the Pyke." Jaime did not remember.
"I see." Jaime then stabbed a man who was about to put a sword in Cassel's back. Jaime reasoned that his likeliest chance to gain Stark's alliance was through keeping his loyal guard alive. "Come on, we need to get out of here."
Jaime led a sweating Cassel around more fighting men. Somehow, they managed to escape the room. Mostly, Jaime thought, thanks to his excellent swordsmanship. Cassel was useless when it came to battle. As they entered the hallway, servants screamed and fidgeted before rooting in place.
"We mean you no harm," Cassel announced. "Go back to your rooms until the fighting is over." The servants scattered without complaint. Most of them glared at Jaime as if it was his fault they were in danger. Blame. Why did he always get blamed for everything?
"Ser Preston never mentioned Lysa Arryn," Cassel said gruffly.
Jaime grunted; eyes focused on his bloody sword. At least there were no wight guts or Whitewalkers shattering like glass.
"Lannister," Cassel snapped. "Why did you accuse Jon Arryn's wife?"
"Because she killed her husband," Jaime snapped.
"Greenfield never mentioned her," Cassel continued. "Why do you think she did it?"
Jaime knew better than to mention Bran; Cassel would find him insane just like Stark. "My other informant must have mentioned her," Jaime sighed. "I can't tell you who. You know how dangerous knowing the truth is."
Cassel nodded. "Do you have any proof?"
"I wish I did, but my informant is a trustworthy sort, as honorable as your Lord Stark." Jaime then beckoned him to follow. "I know a place where you can hide during this bloodbath."
"What about you?"
"I've got to find my niece. Who knows what Renly and Baelish plan to do with her?" Cersei obviously received warning of Renly's coup and escaped with Joffrey. That left Myrcella in need of his protection. Jaime was not going to leave his daughter behind. Who knew what would occur in his absence? By Bran Stark's tiny cock, whoever had thought in his previous life to send Myrcella to Dorne was a bloody idiot.
"Myrcella, what is happening?"
Jaime turned to find Tyrion, Stark's infuriating younger brother, and some tall dark-haired man.
"You came home!" Jaime let out a mad laugh. How the seven hells did that happen? What happened to stop Lady Catelyn from kidnapping Tyrion?
"Yes." Tyrion tilted his head. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I am so relieved. I thought you would face an unexpected detour on your way home. Glad to see I am mistaken." Jaime sheathed the sword, not caring about the blood splattering on the scabbard and floor. He lowered to his knees and hugged his little brother. He was happy to be near a Tyrion he could be around without feeling any disgust or shame. A brother he could trust.
Behind him, Cassel explained the recent events in the throne room. "Renly and Baelish staged a coup with outrageous lies."
Jaime was still amazed that Cassel believed his lies. He had thought no one would believe his flimsy denial. Thank goodness for fools.
"You can share everything, Cassel, after I get you all somewhere safe while I find Myrcella." Jaime picked a protesting Tyrion.
"Let me down, Jaime." How nice it was to hear his name. "I'm not a child."
"We don't have time for you to wobble behind." Jaime started racing towards a hallway that led to one of the entrances to the hidden tunnels. "Come on, or get killed by Stormlanders, your choice."
Luckily Cassel convinced the Northerners to follow Jaime. Without that man, they would have never agreed to wait in the tunnels.
"You should be safe here." Jaime informed them. "Varys is the only other person who knows about these tunnels, and I highly doubt he wants any of you lot dead."
Ned Stark's brother glared while the other two Northerners gave their thanks.
Tyrion gave him another hug and whispered, "Be careful."
Jaime wished he could remain in the tunnels. He had so much he wanted to discuss with his brother. But Myrcella needed him, especially if Renly won the uprising, or if Renly convinced Robert of the truth.
Jaime exited the tunnels to find a servant pulling a cart of scraps of cloth and vials of various liquids.
Great. He must kill an innocent to keep the other's safe. He drew his sword when he heard Bran's voice. Chance to be a hero. No needless bloodshed in our fight for the living.
Jaime punched the servant who fell on the cart, causing the cloths and vials to spill everywhere.
"I'm a fucking idiot." How was he going to clean this all up?
"Your girl is in Maegor's Holdfast." Vary spooked up behind him.
"Myrcella?"
Varys nodded.
Jaime ran.
Ever since Robert's Rebellion ended, Jaime hated Maegor's Holdfast. He wished to remain as far away from the scene of Princess Elia's rape and murder, and the murder of her poor children. Every time he visited; he saw their decaying bodies. If only he had chosen to come here after murdering Aerys. On that fateful day, none of his Kingsguard brother watched the drawbridge. He could have saved them.
Today Ser Boras Blount stood as the sentry who granted people entrance through the drawbridge. While Blount might be loyal to Cersei, Jaime knew better than to risk it. As he climbed up the wall with a hook and jumped through a secret egress window, Jaime thanked Varys again for sharing another secret passage during the night he rescued Tyrion.
As Jaime passed the nursery, he heard faint giggling and the sound of squeaky footsteps. He glanced into a room empty except for a wooden cradle and clumps of brown hair splattered across the floor. A shadow sat on the window ledge. Was that shadow from long brown hair twisted in a Dornish bun? No, shadows never twist. They reflect the light from some object.
Jaime turned to find a doll of a Dornish woman leaning under a tapestry of Princess Elia and Prince Rhaegar standing near Blackwater Bay's pier.
"Elia, Rhaegar," Jaime whispered as he walked towards it. He thought all the tapestries from the Targaryen dynasty were burned years ago. They would have both made great rulers if Rhaegar never fucked up.
Squeak. The window behind him had opened. He peeked through the window and found nothing outside. Was the mess real, or was Varys trying to mess with his mind? He leaned down to the floor. The hair was real. First the painting and doll, now the hair. Varys might be messing with him.
It did not matter. He needed to find his daughter. This place was her likely location.
He checked more rooms before he heard a scream. "Myrcella," Jaime cried, racing up the narrow stairs of a tower. The screaming grew louder.
Jaime leaped over several bloody bodies wearing Stark sigils on their armor.
In the room at the top of the tower, Jaime finally found Myrcella struggling against an attacker on a bed. Always the fighter, Myrcella was kicking a man with dirty-blond hair in the chest as he raised his sword. Shit. Was that Preston Greenfield? What was he doing out here? He must have killed all those Stark guards Jaime passed.
"No." Jaime rushed forward right as the man's sword stabbed his daughter's stomach.
"No!" Jaime shouted again as ran his sword in Greenfield's back.
Greenfield laughed, spewing out blood and spit. "Aerys! Aerys! This must be how he felt!"
No. No. No. Sweat dripped down his neck and back as Jaime pushed Ser Preston to the floor. Ignoring the swearing imbecile, Jaime dropped to his knees on the bed. Myrcella smiled faintly, struggling to sit upright.
"Relax," Jaime whispered as he positioned her to lean on him. He pressed the linen sheets from the bed against her wound. "I got you. You will be fine. You are strong. You will survive."
Myrcella hung her head against his shoulder. The metal from his armor must be uncomfortable, but Myrcella did not care.
"Not your fault. He lied to mother. Said he will…"
"Save your breath. We can discuss everything later."
Myrcella gasped, saliva dripping from her mouth. "Uncle, I don't feel good."
Jaime whispered in her ear. He needed her to know just in case he failed to save her again. "Daughter, everything will be fine. You will make it out of this alive."
Myrcella raised her head and stared directly in his eyes. "Uncle Renly said that you were. I wondered if that was true. I'm glad. So glad."
She squeezed his hand; Jaime felt her pulse slow down. "I'm glad too." He kissed her cheek and muttered, "We can move forward as father and daughter after today. I promise." She had to survive. Bran promised a second chance to fix his mistakes.
Myrcella squinted before falling on the bed. The linen sheets fell, and blood dripped on the mattress. Jaime squeezed her wrist; her pulse had stopped beating.
No! Dammit. Jaime spent too much time ignoring Myrcella when he should have spent time with her. That was the story of his life. He kept on making the same mistakes.
"You know how it is. The innocent always pays for the sins of the guilty." Greenfield chuckled in the background.
Jaime knew that. Bran was crippled because of him. Queen Rhaella was raped for years because of his and the other Kingsguard members' cowardice. Princess Elia and her children were brutally murdered due to the recklessness of Prince Rhaegar and his father's and the Mountain's cruelty. Tyrion's Dragon Queen grew up in exile due to the insanity of her father. Lady Sansa lived years in a gilded cage due to her father's foolishness and his family's selfishness. Myrcella died twice because of him. Trystane. Tommen. All those innocents.
"Remember when you laughed at the sight of the Princess and her children's bodies in this very room." Greenfield continued. That wasn't what happened. Jaime did not know about their fates until it was too late. "Did you like the room I set up for you? It took Petyr forever to find that tapestry. Wasn't all that hair delightful? It's all from those Stark guards that you killed!"
"That you killed," Jaime snapped. "She was a little girl. She never did anything to you!"
"I told you. She's payment for your sins. My lovely Marina and daughter are in danger because of you. Lysa refuses to write to me. You got in the way of Petyr's and my plans! You will pay for ever foul action you done, sister-fucker!" Greenfield snickered and threw his hands in the air. "I finally did it Brandon! I got you justice! No one will mourn you when you're gone, Kingslayer. Your remaining children will revile you. Your sister will soon be beheaded."
"What the hell do you think I did to Brandon Stark?" Jaime walked towards the bleeding man.
"You got Aerys to kill him. You laughed as Brandon died! You did nothing to save him."
"I was a coward then." Jaime shuddered remembering his inaction. He wished he could have acted as a true knight that day and all the other times Aerys burned innocents. "As were five hundred other people. I will never not regret my inaction during Aerys's reign. But you have no right to judge. You were not there. You never had to suffer a mad King."
"You let Elbert, Ethan and the others die too. All my friends were innocent as they tried to free poor Lyanna. Brandon! I never bonded with anyone as much as Brandon Stark. My best friend. My brother. I have no care for your excuses." Greenfield glared and clawed at Jaime.
Jaime slapped him, causing him to fall onto the floor. His insane eyes gleaned excitement as Jaime drew his sword.
"Yes! Yes! Yes! I'll see you soon Brandon!"
Jaime swiftly beheaded his fellow honor-less knight.
The room was finally silent. Jaime glanced at Myrcella's body. She was gone. There was nothing left to do. He could not help her anymore. Jaime dropped onto the floor, hearing Bran's warning repeat endlessly in his mind.
They will all either die or become unhinged tyrants if you don't earn my father's trust.