he kept saying, "burn them all" / october 6th, night / closed to aerys targaryen and jaime lannister
Politicians had an affinity for lying and Aerys was no different. They know you’re here. They’re coming. Whether or not Jaime believed it as the truth, it struck an urgency in him that cut into what would otherwise be toying with his prey. The longer he remained in the building the more he exposed himself and the closer to daylight it got.
Still, as many threats Aerys posed to him it couldn’t hide the fear seeping out of him in waves. It gave Jaime the advantage, just what he needed to make this look like an accident. He had to get him moving; the gun was no longer an option.
He values his own life far too much and he knows I’m here to kill him. Aerys made the mistake of thinking this was Tywin’s hand; Jaime thought briefly of how his father may very well disapprove wholeheartedly of this plot. Reckless. Foolish. Sometimes there just wasn’t time; sometimes it was kill or be killed. The solitary dragon did him a disservice in thinking this would fluster him.
Jaime had stepped partially into the shadows, only his shoulder illuminated by the fireplace but the flames danced on Aerys’ visage. They brought a grim life to him: a hollow shell, a walking corpse. It wouldn’t matter how foolish Jaime had been after Aerys was dead. “I don’t see anyone,” he taunted briefly in response to his threats. Only Jaime wasn’t looking for guards or spies, his eyes hadn’t left his target. Time was up.
Not if I kill you first, old man. Jaime lunged in his direction.
The enemy's unwavering eyes were unsettling; like a staring contest, Aerys knew he'd lost a thousand times over already. In his desperate search for aid coming from the outside, he'd looked away more than once, while Jaime fucking Lannister had moved across the room unflinchingly. Aerys wondered if he had been in the room already, by the way he moved around, is if he knew already, as if he'd known it for a long time - who had betrayed him? Who had let him in? Pycelle had told him he would be safe.
The smell of burning wood filled his nostrils. Burn them all. The flames cast long shadows against the wall. Jaime Lannister's shadow reached up to the ceiling, not unlike a giant come to step on him, crush him.
When Jaime Lannister pounced, Aerys was one step ahead. With his hand he felt the wall behind him and ran to his right, toward the door. The muscles in his highs ached from the urgency, his bones lamented the sudden wrath in his movements. But he couldn't stop and abide his body's prayers; he had to run.
"Pycelle!" he bellowed, thunderous over the silence that enveloped the entire house. Is there a breathing soul in this place, he wondered, running. Jaime Lannister's footsteps were fast behind him, faster than his, approaching. He leaned against the wall outside the study. The warmth of the fire was gone. He kept going, but Jaime Lannister was behind him. He dared a glance back, and the feral smugness he saw there frightened him. Jaime Lanister was on him, too fast, too dangerous, and before he could do anything, the man's gloved fingers were clenching the fabric of his sweater, pulling at him.
"Pycelle!" he yelled again, clenching his own fingers against the man's wrists to try and pry him off, get rid of him and run just what more he needed to reach downstairs and call the guards, do something.
But Jaime Lannister was younger, and stronger, and he dragged him backward. He struggled, and so did the Lannister boy: his features grew harder as he pushed him against the railing. The wood was hard against his spine, his back bending backwards. "Coward," Aerys Targaryen hissed, fighting to resist the other man's pressure - useless. He was too weak, and his body betrayed him, offering no help. Aerys turned his head to the side, barely, Jaime's fists firm against his neck, pushing. Pushing. The floor downstairs was hard and so far away, and Aerys knew then that fall would be his last.
"Burn them all," he whispered to himself. "Burn them all."
And Aerys fell.











