JAIME

Jaime hadn't intended to overhear the conversation. Aerys had been talking with one of the many pyromancers that infested the Keep in his private quarters.

"Has the plan started?!" the king asked, with trepidation in his voice.

"Yes, it has, your grace," the pyromancer said, a dark amusement in his voice.

"Yes! I will now become the dragon, the same one that the raven told me I'd be!" Aerys cackled. "The city shall burn!"

He had barged in there, and slaughtered them both, when he finally realized what they were planning to do.

Burn the entire city to the ground with wildfire.

He genuinely wanted to laugh out loud, Jaime recognized as he ran through the halls, desperately trying to find the pyromancers. His armor clanked and his cloak billowed, but he paid it no mind.

He wondered if Ser Arthur would be proud of him, but he pushed back the thought, as he narrowly avoided smashing into a nearby courtier. The bustle of the castle was unmatched, and the lion almost thought he heard screaming. Maybe there had been screaming.

The knight managed to see Rossart duck into a nearby tunnel, and he smashed into the door, his sword lashing out at the man's back. The man screamed, and the boy gave him nothing but another stab in the throat.

He almost felt the disapproval of his fellows, but he had learned that he didn't care what they thought. Not when so many lives were on the line.

His boots echoed onto the floor, and he quickly grabbed some random courtier. Grabbing him by the shoulder, Jaime demanded, "where did those men go?! The ones with the strange robes, the alchemists?"

The man was about to get uppity, but the kingsguard merely showed his bloody sword. "O-over there, they went into the city!"

"Where?!" Jaime hissed.

"I don't know, oh gods, I don't know…"

The knight snarled, and shoved him away, not even sparing him a thought as he ran towards the doors of the Red Keep, guarded by Thorne's lackeys.

"Oi, Lannister-" one of them tried to stop him, but he merely grabbed them by the throat, already feeling his stress rising. They all didn't have time! Did they not realize?!

"Give me those fucking keys, or I swear I will paint my own cloak red," Jaime threatened, not even caring how he seemed now. "Do you want to try it out?"

The man somehow managed to gulp, and quickly passed the keys to his welcome hand. Dropping him to the ground, in disgust, the golden-haired boy merely glared at the other guard, whose eyes widened.

Opening the doors, he managed to push them open enough to let him pass, and quickly shuffled out.

A sudden guilt nearly made him stop, as he realized that he might have potentially condemned Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys to their graves.

He didn't stop however, and rushed into King's Landing, grabbing one of the goldcloaks by the neck, almost causing an outrage amongst his companions. But the still liquid blood on his sword stopped them almost in their tracks.

"Do any of you goldcloaks know where the king's pyromancers went?" Jaime demanded, glaring at them all, daring them to even try fighting him.

"O-one of them went to Flea Bottom," he stuttered out, and he flashed his eyes dangerously. "T-the other went to ah, ah, I don't know!"

"None of you ever fucking know," Jaime cursed, as he dropped the man to the floor.

...All of a sudden, the bells rung, and rung. He stared at the goldcloaks and they stared at him.

"Lord Tywin's a traitor!" One of the smallfolk cried, as Jaime saw flames and heard screams.

His father wanted to sack the city, when it was going to go up into green flames. The knight could appreciate the irony.

Jaime quickly ran towards to Flea Bottom, discarding his white cloak as he went. He didn't want to have to deal with his father's soldiers, when he wanted to find the pyromancers.

Ducking into the narrow streets, the boy winced as he smelt the burning of houses, and coughed as he smashed into a pyromancer, who was trying to get into the sewers.

After a quick struggle, Jaime poised himself to kill the man.

Then his vision turned into green fire, and Jaime felt utter agony, and he screamed and cried.

And then nothing at all.

EDDARD

Ned had ridden his men and their horses as fast as they could, as they tried to keep up with the Targaryen loyalists. He found the act distasteful, but swallowed his own honour. He had to.

They had peaked the hill, only to see Lannister banners. Ned glanced towards Howland, and then towards one of the commanders of Robert's forces, a certain Samwell Cafferen. He was a man older than them, but not by much, with a balding head of brown hair and a beard. Probably a cousin of the late lord Cafferen, he realized.

"They've gotten here before us," Cafferen stated, grimly. "Lannister wants to prove his allegiance to Robert, I see."

"By pretending to be an ally. How else would he have gotten past Mad King Aerys?" The Greatjon rumbled.

"That doesn't matter," he interrupted. "I am here to make pea-"

A thunderous rumbling interrupted whatever Ned was going to say, as he gazed upon the most terrifying sight of his life. Green fire rose from the city, exploding into a mushroom cloud that instantly turned King's Landing into naught but ash.

The shockwave sent him crashing down to the earth, and caused all of their mounts to bolt, but… Ned couldn't stop staring at King's Landing, as half a million people turned to ash, and a city that had towered over the rest, turned into naught but drawings and memory.

A plot bunny entered my brain… And this came out.

Basically, this fic is gonna an exploration of what a few canon divergences and the mad plot of a king would have done to Westeros. I will detail what happened to cause this turn of events, if need be.