Author's Notes: Welcome to Chapter 85, my unsexy sexy chapter, so nicknamed because this is POV XXX for both Jaime and Aemon! I hope my fellow Americans had a lovely Thanksgiving and I hope everyone else had a great week.

Thank you so much for your support! It is a soothing balm in these particularly trying times. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Thank you to CatzRko0l for being a beta-reader to this fic!

Chapter 85

Jaime XXX

He drew in deep breaths of the salty summer night air as he crossed the grounds with a torch in hand. His sleep had been fitful at best. He'd woken up disgruntled in the early hours of the morning, in the darkest part of the night.

His father was to be on trial for his treason in the coming day.

This was not a surprise. After the disaster of his last life, it was clear to him that his father should not be given unchallenged reign over everything. While Kingsguard to Robert Baratheon, Jaime had often wondered how he was going to collar him. Aemon had cleverly given him the necessary status to exert some control over his father. It should not have surprised him that he would resist his attempts. He had warned his father numerous times up to his attempted assassination of Robb Stark, but Lord Tywin was never to be deterred.

Jaime was not surprised but he was disappointed all the same. Such a waste, he thought. He could have still had his moment to shine as a commander and a leader. That he would hang his hopes on a crown. There were far more potent threats and powerful forces than Robert Baratheon, but all anyone can fixate on is that damn chair!

However, the clash between him and his father seemed inevitable. His father would never approve of a marriage for something as trite as love. But Jaime would not be dissuaded. Am I to be condemned by the Gods for placing a woman above my father? I did try to stop him, but my efforts were half-hearted at best, knowing what I know. Surely the Gods would've foreseen this? Jaime tried to shake his head of the thoughts.

The Gods were another mystery. They only saw fit to give him direction once he tried to hang himself. It seemed that they were present in the bear that day he received his scars. Aemon mentioned that they had taken control of him and gave him the power to split the Greatjon's sword in two to impress the Northerners. Was that all they had done? For all of their efforts to send both him and Aemon back, why were they not more present?

Had they been there the day Aemon and his company had been cornered on the high seas? It had seemed sheer luck that Ser Garlan Tyrell made his move when he had. Was it luck? Or was it the Gods? And yet the Gods used overt force. Was turning the tide of a battle a power they possessed? Could they stay an assassin's hand? Could they change an old lion's mind? He had no idea, but he had sent silent prayers their way knowing that they were listening.

His footsteps echoed around him as he went down the stairs towards the black cells. He heard the chatter of the guards as he approached. They were under orders to keep talking to stay awake at night. Their conversation stuttered to a halt as they no doubt heard his approach. Both guards were seated at a round table near the entrance to the cells and they jumped to their feet like they had been sitting on hot coals.

"Leave us. I would like to speak with my father alone," Jaime said. He didn't even watch them, but found his father's cell,put the torch in a nearby bracket, and took one of their chairs.

His father was in the very back of the cell, lying on his cot, his face turned towards the wall.

"I know you're awake," Jaime said. "You were always a light sleeper and your own routine dictated you be awake before dawn."

His father turned over. The light was too low to discern anything on his face. His voice was a calm blue when he spoke, "I expected to see you sooner or later. You're supposed to be a lion. Yet you never did grow out of this need to be directed. First, I directed you, then you allowed Cersei to lead you by the nose, and now it's this dragon."

"That's amusing, father, considering I stepped up to be the Hand this kingdom needed and you resisted me, even though you should have wanted me to fill your mighty shoes."

"That I ever saw anything kingly in you…"

"That was your mistake. We are not kings."

"You forget your ancestry," Tywin growled, red reverberated in his tone now. He had finally sat up and Jaime could feel his glare.

"The ancestry that bent the knee to the dragons? Our ancestors were once smart enough to know when to fall in line. I'm merely taking their lead," Jaime replied, smirking.

His father gave a grumble of frustration and laid back down, keeping his back to him.

Jaime shook his head. "Pathetic. Such a disappointment," he sneered.

This inspired his father to at least look back at him. "I agree. All of my lessons were wasted on you."

"You could still be important. You could lend your experience in battle and management to a worthy cause!"

His father sneered at him. "Your king will take my head as surely as the sun rises."

"Unlike you, Aemon is fair. Taking the Black is always an option."

Jaime was surprised at the bark of laughter that erupted from his father. He'd never known his father to even so much as chuckle. His voice was burnt orange with a thread of poisonous purple. "You expect me to take the Black? Perhaps the dragon has addled your brain after all."

He hesitated for a moment and then plunged forward. "The Long Night is coming, father. The whole realm is under threat."

His father blinked at him and then shook his head. "You really have lost your mind." For the first time, his voice wavered with a yellow uncertainty.

"Do you remember when Lord Stark's brother from the Night's Watch brought a chest? An undead wight is inside of it. I would know. I checked to make sure it was still… alive."

His father snorted; his chuckles were purple. However, when he brought himself under control, his smile was mocking and his eyes were mirthless. "It seems the Mad King's madness spread to you as well."

Jaime clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Disgraceful. Otherwise, you'd recognize why the gods saw fit to bequeath King Aemon with a dragon egg."

"The dragon egg? The one he hasn't even hatched yet." His father chuckled again.

"But he will hatch it and then everyone will understand your hubris." Jaime stood up. "Fine, father. Go to your death knowing that all future Lannisters will curse your name. I will not place a traitor in the Hall of Heroes. The crows can have your bones." He grabbed his torch and began toward the door, but then stuttered in his steps. He turned back and smirked at him. "And Brienne of Tarth and I should be married before too long."

His father shot up from his bed. It was still too dark to see much, but Jaime smirked as he thought about the fury and alarm on his father's face and headed back to his bed.

|-The Dragon's Roar-|

Aemon XXX

Lord Jaime saw Tywin Lannister this morning.

Aemon pondered the scrap of paper. He had decided to break his fast alone, having too much on his mind to enjoy the usual boisterous Stark breakfast only to find yet more to occupy him. The scrap of parchment had been tidily tied with a bit of twine and set next to his plate.

What is going on here? He had only ever received such messages from the Shepherds, but since Jaime was their sponsor, they would not report on his activities. This had to be from Varys. Was this his way of being proactive? Was he trying to sow discord between him and Jaime even after Baelish failed? Or was he simply reporting on the activities within the Red Keep to show he could do his job properly? Was there anything sinister to this?

Aemon sighed and tossed the scrap into the fire and started cutting into his ham. He didn't have to wonder why Jaime visited his father. He would too if his Uncle Ned was one trial away from the chopping block. Since Varys had not included any information about Tywin escaping, he could safely assume that he was still locked up in the black cells. There were only two outcomes for Tywin Lannister: either he died or he took the Black. Most of the south had an ill opinion of the Night's Watch, so he couldn't see the old lion committing himself to such an ancient order as anything other than sullying himself. He supposed he would have to wait and see. Maybe Jaime's pleas to his father would be enough. The trial would tell.

First to be dealt with were three knights who had been arrested at the battle in Salt Moss Cove. They were knights under Lord Tywin. They each immediately demanded trial by combat. The audience was getting restless and excited at the idea of so many duels to come. Aemon was not best pleased that he would be forced to spend so much time watching a fight that decided their fate. He much preferred the North's version of swift and ordered justice. Trial by combat was too much like rolling the dice and seeing where they lay. Aemon wasn't keen leaving such heavy matters to what seemed luck. However, the Gods had more than proved that they were paying attention. Were these battles below their mighty attention or did they weigh them in his favor? Unless they performed a miracle much like they had when he cracked the Greatjon's sword, he wouldn't put much stock into the wins or the losses. Even if any of the knights scraped through for the Gods to deem innocent, Aemon could at least be assured that they weren't likely to plan his downfall in the shadows. There were only so many men like Baelish in the world.

Aemon banged the gavel a few times to quiet the audience. "Bring Lord Tywin Lannister forward," he ordered. A hush fell that was so complete Aemon would be able to hear a pin drop.

Lord Tywin was chained hand-to-foot. His clothes were rough and grimy. His skin was smeared with the dirt. Though he was poised and unflinching, the skin that could be seen was pale and there were notable dark circles around his eyes from his time spent in the cells. Aemon glanced at Jaime. He stood in the exact same spot as the day before in his armor, but he was resolute instead of amused.

"Lord Lannister, you stand accused of conspiracy to commit treason, conspiracy to commit a coup, the murder of Robert Baratheon by poison, the murder of Lord Yohn Royce by poison, being a conspirator to the capturing of Winterfell, the attempted assassination of your king, and the attempted assassination of Lord Stark and his heir Robb Stark. How do you plead?"

The crowd murmured amongst themselves. The news of Winterfell having been taken by an enemy had not been widely known and would now circulate throughout the Red Keep. Aemon imagined, as well, that the news concerning Lord Yohn Royce was likely to be a shock as well. Lord Andar Royce was off to the side at the front and his face purpled much like his father's had done in anger.

"Innocent," Tywin said steadily. "Particularly for those murders. I had nothing to do with them."

"Nothing to do with them?" Lord Willas questioned sharply. He snatched up one of the papers and held it up, shaking it at him. "We have papers detailing the poison that Lord Baelish procured. You could not hope to supplant King Aemon without your grandson having a claim to the throne. Robert Baratheon's death was key to opening that pathway. Whether you distributed the poison is of little bearing. Your plan hinged on his death."

The crowd buzzed angrily and Aemon had to slam the gavel twice to silence them.

"As for Lord Yohn Royce, I placed him in charge of the armies of the Vale. To force their allegiance to wobble and therefore become one of my less certain allies, you had to be rid of Lord Royce."

Tywin tilted his head back and said, "That's all merely wishful thinking."

"And what is your defense?"

"You caused his death, Your Grace."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, when you used a fraudulent letter to strip Lady Lysa Arryn of her power to place Lord Yohn Royce there. Were it not for your own underhanded ploys, Lord Royce would be here today."

"Fraudulent letter?" Aemon said. His heart pounded beneath his skin and he hoped he looked pleasantly surprised. "What sort of nonsense is that?"

"You posed a fraudulent letter by Lord Petyr Baelish suggesting that he and Lady Lysa conspired to kill Lord Jon Arryn. Disgraceful."

The courts whispers and murmurs grew. Aemon pounded the gavel once and they fell into line. "You got this information from Baelish, did you not? Considering the trail of bodies he has left in his wake from administering poison to the likes of Robert Baratheon and Lord Yohn Royce as well, his word is in considerable doubt. And he's dead besides," Aemon replied.

Tywin's face darkened. "You're no less traitorous and cunning."

"I'm disappointed, Lord Lannister. I thought you would be above petty insults. Is that your defense?"

Lord Tywin's lip curled. "Do I need one? You're a dragon. Your grandfather was not the first to go mad and he won't be the last. I was trying to save us all from another great burning. How long before it's someone else in this room?"

"That's not a defense," Aemon said. He knew Tywin was trying to get under his skin and unsettle him, but he was determined to remain calm and collected. "I took the Red Keep bloodlessly, I have beheaded a single man—a knight in your employ, Ser Amory Lorch, who was tried and convicted in a trial by combat for butchering Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. However, you've a long history yourself of showing a willingness to engage in butchery at the smallest of slights. Everyone knows the Rains of Castamere. How do you think they'd feel under you?"

"I would not be king. My grandson would have taken his rightful position on the throne," Lord Tywin replied calmly.

"Is that so? I'm sure Lord Jaime won't have any trouble confirming that," Aemon said. They both looked to Jaime, who tilted his head at his father in a mocking manner. "Is that all you have for your defense?"

Instead of answering, Lord Tywin remained silent and glaring, before he was forced off the dais and onto a side platform.

"Lord Jaime." Aemon gestured for him to stand on the dais. "Now, tell us of your side of the events."

"My father made it clear to me about a month before his intended assassination attempt of Robb Stark on what he intended to do. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen. His intentions were to include me as a key figure in the coup, but I went around him and enlisted Lady Margaery Stark's assistance in getting the messages to the correct lords and take the surprise out of the coup," Jaime said.

He went on to detail the night of the attempted coup, including the conversation between him and his father upon his father's arrest. The crowd audibly gasped to hear that Lord Tywin had intended for Jaime to take the throne rather than his grandson. As Jaime continued, Aemon got the sense that he was becoming more troubled with every word he spoke. His pauses grew longer, but his voice remained steady and his demeanor otherwise did not waver.

"—arrested my father and search parties were sent out to apprehend Lord Baelish, who regretfully was not detained and found himself dead."

"Thank you, Lord Jaime. I appreciate the significance of being forced to arrest your own blood."

Tywin took his place back on the dais. "I can see there will be nothing fair about your justice."

Lord Velaryon had grown dour over the course of Jaime's account and he slammed his hand on the table. "You were arrested by your own son during the commission of a crime! Your own army suffered losses within the Red Keep! Your own bloody history speaks to your brutality and your hate against the dragons! As if anyone believes Princess Elia and her children were butchered without your knowledge—!"

"Lord Velaryon, the Mountain and Ser Amory Lorch have paid the price for those deaths. Lord Tywin is not currently on the stand for them."

"Maybe not those," Tywin said, his amusement growing on his face. "But perhaps another,"

Aemon thought his heart may have skipped a bit, but he narrowed his eyes. "Speak plainly, Lord Tywin."

"Did you really think I would stop at you? The time of the dragon has passed. I had every intention to root out the last of you. Your hope of rebuilding the Targaryen legacy shall wither and die on the branch. Whatever children you sire will forever have diminished dragon blood. The legacy of the Targaryens to marry amongst themselves is over. I sent assassins to every single port in Essos to kill Daenerys Targaryen. She is dead and so is whatever precious legacy you hoped to preserve."

Aemon simply sat frozen at the news. No. No, it cannot be. She can't be dead. Are the Gods so cruel that she would be stolen away from me so soon into this life? Never to even hold her in my arms? Never to steal a single kiss from her? Has Ser Barristan failed me after all?

"Your Grace? Aemon?"

He blinked as he looked to find Jaime leaning over the table, his frown troubled.

Aemon grabbed the gavel and slammed it down, not stopping until the crowd had reigned in their outrage. He slammed it down one last time for effect, imagining it was smashing into the rigid plains of Lord Tywin's face.

"Lord Tywin. Despite your plea of innocence you have neither demonstrated such or even your remorse for the crimes you have committed. You have been judged guilty," Aemon said, his voice sounding hollow in his ears. He held onto the gavel in a tight fist for fear that anyone would see his hand shaking. He felt like his spirit was lifted out of his body as it seemed to look down on the trial. He finally met Tywin's eyes and forced himself to look past his victorious grin.

"You have a choice. Either you commit yourself to the Black for the rest of your days, never to be known as a lord, but as a traitor of the Seven Kingdoms. Or you will be beheaded."

Tywin snorted. "The Black is for cowards who only wish to prolong their suffering. A beheading will do."

"As you wish," Aemon said, his voice a deadly whisper. "But you will not escape torment. The Gods will ensure your suffering for eternity for this betrayal."

|-The Dragon's Roar-|

"Your Grace, all hope is not lost."

Aemon had been glaring at the doors of his solar and turned his glare to his uncle, who merely shifted under the power of it.

"Daenerys is dead!"

"Are you sure about that? This is my father after all," Jaime said, but even he was uncharacteristically grim.

"Did he lie?"

He noticed Jaime looked away before meeting his eyes. Jaime worked his jaw and said, "Not that I could see."

"His words are truth," Aemon whispered. "Daenerys is lost to me. Forever."

Jaime grimaced. After much deliberation, he said, "I wouldn't be so sure. People will look like they're speaking the truth if they think it's the truth. Perhaps he only wishes for it to be true?"

"And perhaps he's received a letter confirming the truth," Aemon replied morosely.

"What did Varys say the last time you spoke to him?" Jaime asked.

Aemon swallowed thickly. "She was in Qarth. She was trying to bargain for passage to Westeros. She had two dragons."

"Exactly. My father mentioned nothing about the dragons."

"What would he care for them?" Aemon said.

"Or it could be that he does not know of their existence," Jaime said. Aemon had never heard of this kind of desperation.

"Do you think it likely he would've had the dragons killed?" his uncle asked.

Jaime couldn't seem to keep from glaring at his uncle, but his response was civil at least. "Mayhaps. They are considered a part of the Targaryen legacy. Someone else could have them too…"

"Is that all you care about?!" Aemon roared. "The fucking dragons?!"

A spark of fury ignited in Jaime's eyes and he drew himself up in his anger. His Uncle Ned rushed over and put a hand on his shoulder. It turned Jaime's fury to him, but it had the desired result as he reigned himself in. "Of course not, Your Grace! I know the dragons aren't all that matter! Princess Daenerys was the only one who was ever able to control her dragons completely. You had Rhaegal's affinity, but she had his loyalty! The Princess and I may be at odds, but she is crucial to the security of the Targaryen legacy and the world's future! I pray to the Old and the New Gods that my father is lying merely to get a rise out of you."

Aemon stood from behind his desk. "Your father dies tomorrow. I can no longer wait. Rhaegal must be hatched. And I will use his body and his blood."

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