Jaime
He should be proud, he knew, and he was. But a part of him was nervous too. My father is angry, he thought. And he had learned well enough to fear Tywin Lannister's rage. The king, evidently, had not. He wondered, not for the first time, if "The Mad King" wasn't an appropriate moniker after all. But perhaps he was just as mad, for having agreed to go along with Cersei's plan. It had all blown up in their faces, with Father being angrier than he would have predicted, resigning his position, taking Cersei away from the capital, away from him. And now here he was, being named to the Kingsguard without any of his family present. He wished Father were here, or Cersei, or even little Tyrion, who he had no doubt would cheer him on if he was allowed to ride in the lists. But he felt so very alone. He glanced out again at all the people gathered and steeled his courage. He may be alone, but he was still a Lannister, damn it. He would not be intimidated into fear.
When the moment came, and he walked out in front of everyone, the wind blew gently around him, and he swallowed his reservations. He was fifteen, nearly a man grown, and far too old to be afraid of his father, who wasn't even here. No, he was proud, proud that all these people were about to watch him be given this great honor. He saw the direwolf of Stark and the rose of Tyrell and the pierced sun of Martell, the stag of Baratheon and the falcon of Arryn and, of course, the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. But no lions roared in the crowd, nor were there any trouts present. He had suspected that Hoster Tully might not attend, given the failure of his betrothal to the Lady Lysa. For all the unwanted complications that his addition to the Kingsguard would bring, at least that wouldn't have to happen. He didn't exactly have anything against Lysa, but she was no Cersei.
He knelt before Ser Gerold Hightower, and the moment itself passed almost in a blur. He said his words, and rose as the youngest member ever named to the Kingsguard. The crowd was cheering for him, and he couldn't help but smile.
The king wasn't smiling, though, only looking at him with a calculating look in his eyes. He bowed to him.
"Very good," Aerys said with a nod. "Let the feast begin, then."
The crowd began to move into the great feasting hall, and Jaime made to follow, but the king bid him to stop.
Frowning, he turned around. "Your Grace?"
The king gave him a long look. "You're to head back to King's Landing tonight. Look after Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys."
All the wind left Jaime's sails. "Are you certain I'm the best suited for that job, Your Grace?"
"Quite. Is that a problem?"
"No," he lied, tasting bitterness. "I had hoped to enter the lists, is all, but of course protecting the queen and prince is more important."
"Indeed," the king said. "You will ride out immediately after the feast."
Jaime nodded. As the king and the six other members of the Kingsguard headed inside, he felt tears prick at his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. The realization came to him then. Angering Lord Tywin was not a side effect of Aerys naming him to the Kingsguard. It was the point. He had been named only to spite his father, not because of Cersei's scheming to keep him close to her, not because of his skills or valor. And now he was not even to be allowed to enter a tourney, the greatest tourney the realm had ever seen, because the king would not allow Tywin Lannister's son such glory. The anger simmered inside him as he headed to the feast, and he decided that yes, the Mad King was a suitable name after all.