[0:00]What if Jaime Lannister didn't lose his sword hand? Let's explore the depths of it in the video. Jaime's eyes widen as Fat Zolo's sword flashes, thinking quickly, he screams out. Wait. Think about what you're doing. What do you hope to accomplish by doing this? If Roose Bolton wants me, then I assume he would want me unharmed. Sending a message to your father and shutting you up at the same time. I'm not a man to be trifled with. You would be sending a message to the wrong person. My father is not a forgiving man, but neither is your new master. Tell me, goat, do you think that the flayed man on his banner is just for show? He would butcher all of you if so much as a fingernail is clipped. It's true. Rob Stark had treated him well and not tortured him. Harmming him now will win you no favor with him or any of his northmen. Silence. We do not fear him, no more than Lord Tywin. You will if you have to fear them at the same time. You were once my father's men, but now you are Lord Bolton's. He's not blind to what sort of scum you are, goat. Give him reason and he will get rid of loose ends like you. Then what? I suppose you could grow wings and sail to Dragon's Stone. But you will find Stannis lacks a Bolton and Lannister's merciful nature. That goes for the rest of you, too. On our way here, we walked past an inn whose women were hanged for lying for Lannisters. What do you think they will do to men who mistreat their most valuable prize? Vargo considers this for a moment and then curses under his breath. He gestures for the brave companions to stand down. Only then does Jaime Lannister relax and he slumps beside Brienne. For the rest of the journey, they leave him alone, and the two make no effort to ensure comfort, but neither do they mistreat him. When they reach Harrenhal, Roose Bolton is pleased to see that he is unharmed. He explains that Vargo Hoat was planning on scuppering any possible peace deal with the Lannisters. Now that he has diffused that, he can proceed with his plan to returning him to the Lannisters and ensuring that whatever else happens, he will survive the war. Jaime and Brienne are both released and provided with a strong escort to King's Landing. They arrive without further incident, but by the time they reach the capital, they find it in chaos as the city is both mourning and celebrating. There is words that the Starks had at last been slain, not in battle, but at a wedding feast, after sliding Walder Frey. Rob Stark, his mother and most of his bannerman had been slain in the ensuing massacre. Although the Frey's take credit for the success, the truth is that Jaime can sense Tywin's action behind it. He knows that there is no way that old Walder Frey would commit to this unless he was given assurances. But even this victory rings hollow, as Joffrey follows Rob Stark into the grave. He dies not long after in his wedding feast to Margaery Tyrell. While some say he had choked on his feast, others are whispering of poison, and Jaime is stunned to hear that the prime suspect is his brother, Tyrion. When he returns, he finds his younger brother in the black cells awaiting trial. He makes his way over to Tywin to discuss the matter. Surely you do not believe that Tyrion will be responsible for this. What I think is irrelevant. Many suspect your brother is the prime suspect. His guilt shall be determined in the ensuing trial. A trial you are presiding over. You've stacked the deck in our family's favor in the past. Not in a situation like this. We are talking about regicide. Not when the realm is watching. Most people believe that Tyrion murdered him. And if I were to step in, then they will have their fears confirmed. Most of all, the Tyrells. Like it or not, they bring more to our house than your brother. So that's it then. You allow him to die to appease Mace Tyrell. Meanwhile, you have moved more to save my cousin Willam. Your cousin has provided more service to our house than Tyrion ever has. I said nothing about letting him die. I am a judge. If he can prove a compelling enough case for his innocence, then I will be swayed to vote in his favor. His survival falls in his hands, not in anyone else's. Jaime can hardly believe this. He stares at his father, whose attention is already shifting back to his work. Jaime bows stiffly and prepares to leave when Tywin calls on him once again. Jaime, one last thing. Now that you've returned and given the tragic passing of Joffrey, it is time to consider perhaps a shift in your position. You have served the realm well as commander of the King's Guard. Now it is time to take your rightful place in Casterly Rock. I have served well from a jail cell. No. I have my hands and intend to use them guarding the King. Tywin's face darkens as he regards his son, who draws himself up. Though his expression betrays nothing, Jaime can sense the brewing anger within his father. Fine. Leave and serve as a glorified bodyguard. If that is all you believe yourself capable of, I will not stop you. Just try not to let a fourth king die under your watch. Jaime storms off and instead moves to find Cersei, but the usual comfort he expects to find is gone. Not only is she busy mourning her son, but she is furious to hear Jaime's suggestion that Tyrion is being framed. Jaime, you won. One fewer brother. Must be proud of yourself. There's really nothing you wouldn't do, is there? For my family, no, nothing. I would do things for my family you couldn't imagine. Tyrion is your family. He's not. You don't get to choose. I do, so do you. You can choose the creature that killed our mother to come into this world. You're really mad enough to blame him for that. He didn't decide to kill her. He was an infant. Disease doesn't decide to kill you, all the same you cut it out before it does. Think of it, sister. I've watched the two of you grow up, and neither of you have ever had any love for each other. But Tyrion was never mad enough to strike you. Now would you believe that he would plot to murder his nephew? For what? Vengeance. Believe it or not, our brother was not as stupid as that. I see your time in prison hasn't wise you. He's a creature, a snake in the grass. Always concocting schemes in his head. He's got you wrapped around his finger. But now, at last, he will face justice for it. All while you stand there, the innocent victim, the grieving widow. Now the grieving mother. Cersei's hand comes out and slaps him across the face. Do not compare those two. Robert was a fool, a drunken oaf whose greatest contribution to the realm was dying so our son could take the crown. And now he is gone, and the man who caused it shall die. For the next few days, Tyrion's trial proceeds, and it is just as Jaime suspected. While there is talk about giving him a chance to defend himself, the bias is clear to Jaime. Witnesses against Tyrion are packed to the brim, men under Cersei or Tywin's employ. Men who never had cause to like his brother, and men who hope to win favor with the hand. There is much speculation and circumstantial evidence, but there is no true proof of what they say. Even as Tyrion demands a trial by combat, Jaime does not find a hint of justice. He watches all of this unfold, his hand gripping his sword until the knuckles turn white. A part of him longs to draw it out and defend his brother. There was a time when he had witnessed another trial like this, where men were left to the whims of their betters. Then a man was burned, and his son strangled himself to try and save him. Though Tywin insists he is no Aries, at this moment, he sees no difference. And he watches as his brother tries feebly to defend himself. Jaime longs to speak up, but now is not the time. He was never much of a speaker. He was a fighter. The next day, the court gathers outside the courtyard, seated in their pavilions as Tyrion sits alone in a corner, looking out nervously as the Crown's Champion steps over. The Mountain steps into the fighting arena, dressed from head to toe in plated armor, a great helm over his head, making him appear like a stone statue come to life. In his hands, he carries a great sword taller than some men. Does the accused have a champion of their own? They do. He steps forward and draws his long sword. A gasp ripples from the crowds, and all of them turn to face him. For a rare moment, Tywin Lannister is left speechless. Meanwhile, Cersei stares up at him in shock. Then rage flickers across her face. But Jaime ignores them as he marches forward and bows before the judges. This is outrageous. You are a member of the King's Guard. How can you represent the Crown's accuser? There is no rule against that. I've checked. Tywin's expression is more controlled, but he continues to glare at his son, gripping the side of his seat. His eyes bore into Jaime, looking at his very soul. Unless this is something you truly wish to do. It is. Very well then. The horn blows. Clegane moves first, a thunderous step, then another. He charges with the force of a battering ram, great sword sweeping down with terrifying weight. Jaime pivots to the side, his shield easily being swept aside, but it buys him enough time to slash at Gregor's exposed armpit. But the armor deflects it. Sparks fly. The Mountain turns, faster than expected, and a backhand nearly catches Jaime across the jaw. He ducks, stumbles back, his ribs ache already. The Mountain swings at him again, aiming a downward slash at the ground. Jaime pivots aside, and the ground where he stood sparks with chipped stone. Gregor comes again, a relentless barrage now, overhead, side, thrust, each blow Jaime parries, sending a shock wave up his arms. He's blocking a falling tree again and again. Sweat already dampening his brow. The crowd gasps with every clash. Gregor finally lands a hit, a heavy punch with his gauntlet that cracks against Jaime's shield, sending him sprawling. Jaime rolls, comes up to a knee, shield raised just in time to deflect a killing blow. The shield splinters and Jaime is tossed aside. Gregor snarls and lifts his blade for a finishing arc. Jaime lunges inside the swing, his blade splits under Gregor's armor, a slice of flesh. Not deep enough. Gregor bellows in pain and fury. He drops his sword and grabs Jaime by the throat, lifting him from the ground with one hand. Tyrion lurches forward in his seat. Jaime gasps, kicking, twisting. His sword arm flails, then stabs blindly. The Valyrian steel sinks into Gregor's thigh. He roars and hurls Jaime down like a broken toy. Jaime hits the dirt hard, coughing, ribs cracked. He scrambles backward as Gregor reaches for his great sword again. Too slow. Jaime surges forward in a burst of speed, adrenaline pumping through him. He slashes again, once across the back of Gregor's knee. The Mountain staggers. So Gregor roars and sweeps his arm around, trying to swat him aside. Jaime jerks back and then uses the pommel of his sword to strike Gregor across the head, sending his helm rolling aside and exposing his face. The Mountain turns and faces Jaime, hand raised and prepared to crush him. But the Kingslayer is faster, and his sword strikes him across the neck. Blood spurts, dark and hot. Gregor swings wildly but misses. For a moment, the Mountain just stands there, towering and silent. Then, he collapses forward, shaking the very earth beneath him.
[12:08]Jaime staggers back, blood dripping from his mouth, a deep gash along his ribs. He sways but remains standing. A stunned silence hangs over the crowd. Then, a single voice rises. The mountain falls. Jaime turns toward the stands, breathing hard, face pale. Tyrion's eyes are wide with disbelief, then wet with relief. Cersei is already on her feet, mouth open in horror. Jaime sheathes his blade slowly and turns toward the judges. The gods have spoken. And with that, Tyrion is pronounced innocent, but he is no fool. Innocent or not, he realizes he is no longer welcome there and prepares to leave. By nightfall, he has finished packing his things, and his small escort will take him to Dorne, where Oberyn has offered him shelter. As he prepares to go, Jaime approaches, his face bandaged from the bruises and cuts he sustained during the duel. A few more cuts like that and your face will be as handsome as mine.
[13:12]Jaime, I can never thank you enough for what you have done for me. You could always stay. I would love to see how father reacts when I meet with him after this. As much as I would adore seeing that, I cannot. I know this won't be the last attempt on my life. I cannot stay here. And if you had half a mind, you would leave too. You know I cannot go. Just as much as I know you cannot stay. Very well. But just know this, brother, before you returned, I approached Father. I asked him about my rights to Casterly Rock, and that I be named heir. He said he would rather die and never let me inherit it. That was before he even knew you were free. Remember this. Father sees you for what he imagines, not for what you are. It's not him that I'm staying for. I know, and I doubt it's much better. Cersei smiles as sweet as a maiden, but she bites like a viper and sees spots everywhere she looks. If you stay here, you will be dragged down with her. You don't know her as I do. I see prison hasn't helped you become a better player in this game. Very well. Please stay alive, and I hope we see each other again. With that, Tyrion rides off into the sunset. This leaves Jaime to pick up the mess left behind, starting with his father. Unsurprisingly, Tywin is furious at this, but Jaime is not frightened. He does not feel ashamed or cowed. Instead, he thinks of the mad king, and how he had murdered him, and then a smile plays on his face. Figures, my two greatest deeds, and the world chooses to condemn me. You think this is some sort of joke, Jaime? You have placed us in a difficult position. You have humiliated the name of our house because of that. To hell with this house. What did you just say? The only person who humiliated our house is you, Father. You speak of justice and wisdom, and what do you do now? Put your heir on trial without a hint of evidence, twisted so he could never win. And for what? To stop the fat flower from puffing his chest up and crying foul play. What will stop him from doing that again? Nothing. Now that you have made a mockery of his trial, our house is now the lesser because of your actions. I hope you understand that. Our house rules the Seven Kingdoms, but if you truly wish to collect debts, then collect them from me. I will serve as your heir. What? You said our house must protect strength. What could be stronger than the man who defeated the mountain? Very well then. I shall take my place as your heir. I have no doubt you can find a dozen reasons why I am no longer fit to serve in the King's Guard. I will hang up my cloak, but only when Tommen is secure on his throne. Tywin is speechless. He stares at his son, unsure if he is hearing right. But then he nods and agrees to these terms. For the time being, Jaime will continue his duties, but he must now receive training directly from Tywin. Though he does not show it, he is pleased or at least pacified with this deal. For at long last, he will have the air he has wanted.
