Chapter Text
The Mad King has barely fallen down when Jaime remembers who else is in the castle. Aegon is king now, he thinks. I must fetch him and Elia. And Rhaenys. With that in mind, he runs upstairs, to where he previously was before he got news of Aerys' absurd plan to burn the city.
He hears screaming as he comes closer. What is happening? Are they in danger? Willing his feet to run faster, he opens the door to find Elia holding Aegon in a corner, looking frightened at the window. He turns in her gaze's direction and finds a helmet popping up. A Lannister-colored helmet. My father's men, he realizes.
There is no question of their goal—it's obvious they are there for Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys, and not in a good way. After all, his father is out there sacking the capital in Robert Baratheon's name.
But Jaime hasn't been a Lannister since he was cloaked in white. His last name is merely a way to identify him apart from other Jaimes, not a proclamation of family loyalty. He may have just killed the king he swore to protect, but this is different. Neither Elia or the children are threatening to kill innocents; they are the innocents whose lives are in danger.
All these thoughts come at once and confusingly on his mind. He knows what he must do, however, and so he does. In the blink of an eye, Jaime is by the window, using his foot to push the man down the tower. He hears the sound of his armor colliding with metal, and he looks down to see two men falling. One is huge—he must be the Mountain. Father sent Gregor Clegane to kill Rhaegar's heirs, it dawns on him. He wants to be horrified, but… his father is the same man who extinguished two Houses for not paying taxes. It doesn't surprise him that he sent a killing machine to get rid of Robert's rivals for the throne.
Taking a deep breath, he turns to Elia. "Let's go to the throne room," he tells her. "It's the safest place to be at the moment. They can't question Aegon's claim."
She nods wordlessly, her once frightened expression turning resolute. She is a sight to behold like this, he thinks as he grabs Rhaenys from under the bed and leads the way out.
As they go downstairs, he remembers what awaits them in the throne room. "Your Highness," he whispers urgently to Elia. "I must tell you something before we enter."
"Say it quickly, Ser Jaime," she whispers back. "Who knows what awaits us inside."
He gulps. Now or never. "Aerys is dead." He then lowers his voice even more. "He wanted to burn the whole city down. I—I killed him to prevent that."
She raises her eyebrows. He expects her to scream at her to drop Rhaenys and get out of her sight, but instead she asks, "Did anyone see you doing it?" He shakes his head. "Good. We'll keep this between us. You did the right thing, but I doubt those arrogant lords will see that."
He's so shocked that Elia ends up being the one leading them to the throne room.
The Lannister army is already there, looking puzzled at the king's corpse. One of them, who he recognizes as Lord Marbrand—his childhood friend's father—glances at him upon his arrival and asks, "What happened here?"
He takes a sharp breath and shakes his head, remembering Elia's instructions. "I was upstairs," he says instead, "protecting the royal family from this very army." His voice grows sharper by each word. "It seems that my father has sent men to kill the remaining Targaryens, aside from sacking in the city in the name of a wannabe usurper."
Many soldiers look at him with wide eyes, seemingly remembering only now that he is not Tywin Lannister's heir, but a member of the Kingsguard, loyal to the Crown they just defied. Elia takes advantage of their stunned silence to announce, "Now that Aerys is dead, the Iron Throne falls to his grandson Aegon, sixth of his name."
She looks at him and then points at said throne with her chin. He nods in understanding, places Rhaenys on the floor and positions himself between the damned chair and his father's men. He hears the sound of steps, then Elia's voice again. "Kneel before your king," she says, "and we may consider a pardon for your disloyalty to the Crown."