Jamie Lannister was slumped on the Iron Throne, his sword lying in his lap and dripping blood onto the polished stone beneath his feet. His white cloak and armor, the armor of the Kingsguard, was stained crimson with that very same blood. The blood was not his, nor was it spilt from an enemy in battle.

It was the blood of King Aerys of House Targaryen, Second of His Name. King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. The King he had sworn to protect with his life, the king he had slain as the combined armies of most of Westeros' Great Houses sacked the city.

As the only knight of the Kingsguard in the city, he'd been at Aerys' side for days; the king had been raving and incoherent for much longer. This morning, while his father's army tore into King's Landing under the banners of Robert's Rebellion, he asked the King's permission to ride out and attempt to broker a truce with his father. Aerys' reply was to demand he ride out and take his father's head.

Jaime found Rossart attempting to sneak out of the castle. He knew the Hand had been conspiring with Aerys to burn King's Landing should Robert take the city so he did not hesitate to kill the man and stormed into the throne room. He would remember the look on Targaryen's face for years to come when the old man asked whose blood was on Jaime's sword and he told him it was Rossart's. But what would haunt him for all the days he had left was the squealing noise he made as Jaime slit his throat and the red that seemed to cover everything as he bled out.

He vaguely remembered his father's men, Westerling and Crakehall amongst them bursting into the room and telling them to spare any man who yielded but all he could think about was how tired he suddenly felt. After they left, he'd staggered over to the Iron Throne and sank into it. He felt far older than his eighteen years now. He was an oath breaker, a kingslayer. He knew this day would define him for the rest of his life in the eyes of all of Westeros. Word would travel and everyone would judge the actions of a sworn brother of the Kingsguard killing the king as a rebel army took the Capital, for good or ill.

One of three things would happen now and all of them would start the same: He would be cast out of the Kingsguard then he would go, either to the sword, to The Wall or from the Realm entirely. He doubted his father would allow him to be executed which truly meant he would either take the Black or be cast from Westeros. He'd likely be left to roam Essos for his remaining days, without name or title or become a sell sword and live without honor. Part of him welcomed either fate.

Another part of him just wanted to return to Casterly Rock, to be with his family. His father would welcome his return, and he would sit with his brother Tyrion and pretend all this was a nightmare he'd woken from and Cersei… As his thoughts turned to his Sweet Sister they became cold. It was partially her fault that he was here now. Her grand scheme to keep her brother close at hand while she became Rhaegar's Queen all so he wouldn't marry Lysa Tully had lead him to this moment.

The lust that usually accompanied thoughts of her was crushed by a long festering anger he'd never recognized before this moment, the anger poisoned his thoughts of home and made even the prospect of freezing on the Wall until he died more welcome than returning home.

The doors burst in at that moment and Jaime looked up to see Eddard Stark, ahorse and sword drawn. The dirt and gore of battle covered both his face and armor and made him look less like a young man of one and twenty and more like a conquering Northman of old. The kind his mother or uncle Kevan would tell stories about when he was a boy. Dark of hair and long of face, Eddard's grey eyes looked around the throne room expecting threats.

With him were two men that Jaime recognized vaguely. To Eddard's left was a mountainous man with black hair that was greying at the temples as well as side-whiskers that also mingled black and grey. In his hand was a longsword that was dripping gore. He had seen Ser Rodrik Cassel best three men half his age in a melee at a tourney three years ago and he remembered being impressed that a man of his size had as much grace as he did in battle.

Riding to Eddard's right was Ser Brynden Tully. His auburn hair starting to show signs of grey as well as his beard but The Black Fish looked as fierce and eager for combat as any man did.

The three men rode slowly through the throne room, and came to a stop in front of the corpse of the King. Eddard sheathed his sword then dismounted; his grey eyes narrowed and hard as he locked gazes with Jaime. Jaime lazily rose from the Throne and smiled at Stark as he did, "Relax Stark, I was merely keeping it warm for our friend Robert."

The other two men dismounted slowly as the Northman looked down at the body of Ayres, "What happened here?"

Before Jaime could answer, twenty Stark and Baratheon men flooded into the throne room. They then parted for their commander as he rode in. Jaime looked up, expecting to see Robert Baratheon atop the horse but he was surprised to see Brandon Stark. The silver direwolf sigil gleamed against the dark of his armor, his grey cloak trailed behind and the great sword in his hand was soaked with gore.

Brandon stopped his horse then called for his squire. Ethan Glover approached and took Ice from him; he cleaned and sheathed the sword as Lord Stark dismounted. Brandon was taller than his brother, and looked even more like the Northern Lords of fables. He removed his helm and his dark hair looked wild, his beard was as thick and dark as his hair.

He approached Jaime and his brother, clapping Tully and Cassel on the shoulders as he passed them. He stopped at his brother's side and smiled widely at Eddard before pulling him into a powerful hug, "Ned, good to see you still whole!"

Eddard Stark smiled at that moment and suddenly looked like an entirely different man. "We were fine, Bran. It was you who waded on foot into a hundred Merryweather men with just a dozen horses!"

Brandon let loose a laugh that boomed against the walls, "Aye, and cut them to pieces as well!" He stepped back and turned to Jaime. He gave him an appraising eye, "Ser Jaime, of the Kingsguard." He glanced at the body on the floor, "What happened here?"

Jaime scowled slightly, "The King intended to burn the city rather than let Robert take it. I put an end to him."

There was an angry murmur from the men in the room, more than a few uttered the word, "Kingslayer!" Jaime did not move, but he prepared himself.

Ned gripped his sword but Brandon's hand covered his brother's. He looked Jaime over then raised his voice above the grumbling behind him. "Enough! No man will repeat what was said here. Lannister chose the realm over his oath, as we all did."

Jaime felt the tension in his shoulders ease a fraction; he found his voice a little surer when he asked, "Where is Robert? I would think he'd be ready to take his throne."

Eddard spoke with great sadness, "Robert died at the Trident. Rhaegar struck a killing blow as he died; Robert outlived him by a matter of hours."

Brandon nodded, "We carried Robert's Hammer and Helm with us to King's Landing to honor him." Jaime watched as the men near the doors parted. In walked Ser Colen, a knight sworn to the Baratheons. He carried Robert's Antlered Helm and behind him was Selwyn Tarth with Robert's War Hammer. Each man nodded respectfully as the two passed, a few even reached out and touched the weapon Tarth carried.

Jaime frowned, "Then who will be King?"

Almost as one the Stark and Baratheon men all turned to Brandon and began to cheer for him to take the Throne. Brandon turned towards Eddard and his brother nodded grimly. Jaime expected Ned Stark did most things grimly. Brandon stepped away from his brother as he unclasped his cloak he then handed it to Brynden Tully and climbed the steps; he turned back to the room and sat upon the Iron Throne.

As he settled into the chair, Rodrik Cassel called out loudly, "All Hail our King! Brandon of House Stark, the First of his Name. King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Long may he Reign!"

First Rodrik, then Eddard and Brynden then nearly as one the soldiers and knights knelt. Jaime quickly joined them. Brandon commanded them to rise and as they did, many of the men began to cheer Brandon while congratulating each other. Jaime noticed his Uncle Kevan and two Lannister soldiers enter the Hall. They crossed the room quickly, his uncle noticed Brandon sitting on the throne and he and his officers quickly took a knee in front of the new King, "Your Grace. I bring word from Lord Tywin Lannister."

Jaime watched the new king and his de-facto advisors sober and turn to the Lannister men. Brandon spoke neutrally, "Rise and speak."

Kevan and his men regained their feet and Kevan began, "My Lord Brother has captured Prince Rhaegar's wife and children and currently has them in the Tower of the Hand. He awaits instruction, Your Grace." Brandon nodded and Kevan continued, "He also regrets to inform you that the Queen and her son escaped by ship under cover of night."

Jaime was not terribly surprised at how his father was proceeding. It was smart tactically, Tywin had held off on committing to either Robert or Aerys for as long as he could, it was not until Rhaegar was defeated at the Trident and the Rebellion made the final push that he committed and even then he could have sided with Targaryen today. Jaime could see and he was certain the Starks could as well. So he must have moved in and secured Rhaegar's family as proof of his loyalty to whichever side took King's Landing. If Aerys had repelled the Starks he could be seen as protecting the Royal Family from the invaders.

Ned stepped forward, "Your Grace?"

Brandon looked at his brother and Jaime could almost see the brothers debating without words. The new King then spoke calmly, "We can do nothing about the Queen and the youngest prince for now but should the boy ever set foot in Westeros again he will be sent to his Uncle on The Wall." Jaime heard the murmur of chuckles rumble behind him before Brandon continued, "Return Elia and her children to her father; they may retrieve personal items but no money. Lord Martell will house them; they will never again leave Dorne."

Kevan bowed deeply, "It will be done, Your Grace." Jaime watched as two squires dragged the corpse of Aerys from the hall, leaving behind only his blood and his crown which must have rolled away as the dying king fell.

While Kevan left, Brandon called out, "Tully, take a force and relieve Stannis Baratheon at Storm's End. He's suffered too long already. Once Storm's End is in control, I will require his presence on the Small Council." Tully gathered a group of his men and led them from the hall.

When the King spoke next it was to all the men who remained, "Secure the city, we will accept all surrenders for the moment and wait for the morrow to decide who is to face judgment and who is not." The dismissal was clear, leaving only Jaime, Ethan Glover and Eddard.

Brandon turned to him, Jaime could see now that the rush of battle and victory was leaving the King, but as it did he seemed to find footing. He sat tall and straight in the Iron Throne as though Aegon had forged it for him. His grey eyes were as calm as a midnight sea; Jaime found something like respect in the man's eyes. It was not at all what he would've expected to see in the new king. "Ser Jaime, three of the Kingsguard are unaccounted for, it is notable that the Lord Commander is of their number." He leaned forward and suddenly his eyes turned piercing, Jaime could feel them searching for the truth. When he spoke his voice was flinty, "I believe they have my sister."

He thought of young Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar's infatuation with her had been the doom of the Targaryens. History may one day call this "Robert's Rebellion" as it had been the banner of the Stag that the Starks had rallied behind but it had been the North that had crashed down upon King's Landing to rescue her. It had been the fury of the North that tore through the south and forced his father's hand and it would be the North that would forge Westeros in the years to come.

He doubted that the King or his brother would have any trouble adding his body to the pile of dead to see her back in Winterfell. But to tell them would likely condemn his three brothers. "They took Lady Stark to the Tower of Joy, Your Grace. But I beg that you allow me to write them, a message you can give them when you go. They are my brothers and I love them as such, they are also sworn to Aerys. He ordered them to keep her hostage and I fear they will prefer death to failure."

Brandon nodded, and Jaime left his side to find paper and ink. He wrote Lord Commander Hightower and begged him to allow Stark's men to take Lyanna without conflict. He implored him to see that Aerys had gone mad years ago and brought folly and doom down upon the Royal Family. He signed and sealed the letter, but he was unsure if Hightower would heed the message. When he returned to the Hall he found Brandon and Eddard leaving with Glover following, the elder brother instructing the younger. "Take Jaime's message, try to avoid bloodshed. The boy is right, they will likely fight but I grow tired of combat."

Ned nodded, "Aye, it should never have come to this."

They stopped in front of Ser Rodrick who was with Ned's men already mounted and ready. Howland Reed and Willam Dustin were the most notable among them. Jaime handed Ned the letter he had written and the younger Stark gave him a nod. When he spoke, his voice was a great deal kinder than when he had entered the throne room, "Thank you, Ser Jaime."

Jaime nodded and took a respectful step back as Brandon gripped his brother's shoulder, "Find her, Ned. Take her home to Ben and take care of them for me." Ned reached up and gripped his brother's shoulder and gave him a curt nod. Brandon did not release his brother, however. "I would name you Lord of Winterfell, for that you will need this." He gave his squire a nod and the young man brought forth Ice. Eddard took the sword reverently in his hands, "Protect Winterfell, protect the North. Winter is Coming."

As though instinct, Jaime supposed for the Starks it was, Ned repeated. "Winter is Coming."

He carefully secured the Stark's family blade and mounted his horse before he led his men out of the city bound for the red mountains. Brandon stared at the gates until long after they left. When he turned from the gate, Jaime could tell he'd set aside Brandon Stark in favor of King Brandon I. He spoke to Rodrick, "I will send for my wife in the morning, gather men to meet her on the King's Road. You will leave with them in the morning then make for Winterfell as well, Rodrick. My brother will need your counsel."

The older man bowed, "Of course, Your Grace."

Finally, the King turned back to Jaime, "Could you seek out Lord Lannister, Ser Jaime? I wish to speak with you and your Lord Father about many things."