Jon would never know what possessed him to enter the throne room. He should have allowed Daenerys, his queen, to be the first to see her throne. She may be mad, but Jon had sworn his loyalty to her, and he was not about to challenge her, namely her dragon, for the throne.

The throne room was dreary. Dust trickled from the ceiling as Drogon landed on a rooftop nearby. The air was foggy with debris and portions of the building had collapsed in on itself and cluttered the room. The once elegant marble floors barely resemble their original state and the pillars that held up the ceilings were in ruins. The sun shown in through windows giving the room a false sense of beauty.

She looked as elegant as ever atop the iron throne. Though this war had been waged against her, Jon could not deny that she looked like an icon as she sat there. Her golden sweat tipped hair framed her face as if it were a halo. Bruising of a hand around her neck was beginning to form. Her soft, never worked hands were balled into fists which pushed against the armrests. Green eyes were shut tightly and lips were pressed into a grimacing frown. Her red dress almost hid the bloodstain that was slowly growing.

By her feet, another body laid. It was her twin. A sword sheathed in his stomach. His blood pooled to cover a large portion of the raised platform. His golden arm was reaching towards his sister and lover.

It was a tragic scene.

Jon's footsteps echoed. He couldn't explain what drove him forward, but he was unable to stop until he was at the foot of the thorne. Cersei's labored breathing was audible now and her choking noises showed how close to the end she was. Jon knew whether he swung his sword or not, Cersei would die here and now on her iron throne.

"He found me here when everyone had left." Cersei's voice was raw and labored through her shallow breaths. Jon's eyes were locked on the woman, the current queen, as he bore witness to her final words. They may be enemies, but he was not a hateful man. No need to torture a dying woman.

"My guards died or ran off. I decided that if i were to end here, I would end on the place which all my children died for. Jaime found me and begged me to run, but he's a coward in the end." She gulped down air as another wave of pain crossed her face. "We heard the beat of dragons wings and knew it was too late. He tried to strangle me, but he could have never. I begged him to run once he stabbed me. If I were dead, maybe it would distract your queen enough for him to get away. But no, he dropped to his knees and ended his own life."

Cersei's eyes slowly opened to check who she had revealed her story to. She blinked a few quick times to focus her eyes on the man before her. She sized him up and down and heaved out a sigh. She unballed her right hand and lifted the shaky arm to Jon. She held it in the air and stared deep into his eyes. It was so intense Jon understood immediately why she was queen. He caught her hand in his as it fell. She was weak and didn't have much longer.

"Jon Snow." The name was a hiss from her lips. "I've been nothing but awful to your family."

"You have been." Jon agreed. Thinking through the family and friends he had lost to Cersei and her plots still stung his heart. He may be pleasant to the woman now, but his respect for a dying woman could not be confused with forgiveness.

"You owe me nothing. More likely, it is I who is in debt to you, but I beg you to allow me to ask you one more favor." Cersei tightened her grip on Jon's hand and pulled it to her chest. She lifted her second hand to press his hand tightly to her. Jon allowed her to do so, but shifted his stance at the idea of being asked a favor.

"My son." The words sounded closer to a cry than words, but to Jon they were unmistakable. Jon's heart tightened and he inhaled deeply in shock. "Please, Jon, he is an innocent child. What I've done and what Jaime has done isn't his fault. I'm begging you, not for my life, not for my well-being, but for my son. I've not only lost three children, but played a part in their death. It was my pride and greed for this throne that killed them and me, but I refuse to kill this child. I will beg, I will throw away my pride, I will turn on my Lannister name, but I will save this one innocent life."

Her sobs continued. She released Jon's hand and furiously wiped her tear stained face. Jon took a step back, unsure of what to do of the lioness in such a feral state. Her chest heaved as the silent tears fell but refused to break the eye contact with Jon.

Rescuing the child would cause Jon nothing but frustration in the future. There was no good reason that he should even consider taking in the child of his sworn enemy. Daenerys would be furious, his siblings would be baffled, no one would want the child to live out of fear he would seek revenge. Though Jon knew taking this child was in no way in his interest, he could not formulate a no. It wasn't his compassion towards the Lannister family that kept him from refusing, but his love for the only father he ever knew, Ned Stark.

"Cersei, you are a monster, but your son is not." Jon's gruff, unsure voice wavered as he spoke. Understanding his meaning, Cersei closed her eyes and heaved in relief. A whine escaped her lips, but her tears now were of pure relief. "Tell me where to find him and I will take him from here and raise him as my own."

Cersei would not let the shock of Jon agreeing to raise her son touch her serene face. She had assumed he had only agreed to remove the child from the city and would place him in a foster home. Though Jon Snow, paramour to Daenerys Targaryen, the woman who violently burnt her city and will soon take her throne, did not seem to be the ideal father, it was more than she could ever ask for. She dare not ask his reasons out of fear he would reconsider.

"His name is Tywin Lannister. I beg you to take him and run. I have him hidden away..." Cersei detailed the hideaway where the child laid. Jon repeated the directions in his head to make sure he would not get lost. He had agreed to keep this child safe and that began with finding him. Cersei pulled Jon to her once more and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She began to lift her necklace over her head, but her arms gave out, exhausted. "Take the medallion. Give it to him when he is older. He is a Lannister and should be a proud one."

"No, I will raise him as my child, he will not know he is a Lannister." Jon continued, before Cersei could protest. "A piece of Lannister regalia would put a target on his back. It will keep him safe."

Cersei nodded, now too weak to speak. Her breaths became more shallow and slow. She relaxed into the throne of swords as if it were the most comfortable chair in the world. To her, it likely was.

Jon did not wait for her last breath. He crept from the throne room, footsteps being the only sound. He sped to a jog down the long hallway and took the turns and steps detailed to him by Cersei until he stood in front of a bookshelf. Jon swept the books out of the way revealing a false back. He used the almost hidden hatch to unlock it and swing it open revealing an infant swaddled in blankets in a bassinet. He lifted the child from the confines and dropped the blankets. Surprisingly, he was dressed in common clothing. Cersei must have known that her demise was unavoidable and prepared. The child had wet cheeks from crying, but was asleep now. He had likely exhausted himself crying during the initial attack, but since the siege had lasted hours, he had passed out. Jon tucked the child into his arms and rushed from the keep.

Jon and the child receded behind their lines to where Davos stood conversing with a few members of their army. As Jon approached, Davos' eyes immediately wandered to the child in his arms. He pushed aside the armed men and strode to Jon.

"Now, Jon, what is that you're carrying?"

"A dying mother begged me with her last breath to save her child. I decided to honor her wish. Too many women and children died today and I was able to prevent this little one from dying too." Jon left out some minor details about the child's lineage, but it was now his secret. The truth would only cause this child pain.

By now, the child was well awake and crying for a meal. Jon hushed him, but knew he would need to find a wet nurse to satisfy this need.

"There are some mothers with young children who survived the attack. You could likely offer them food or money in exchange for food for your new baby." Davos suggested nodding to where clusters of survivors huddled together, fearful of their new rulers. "What will you name the little thing?"

"Ed Stark, after my father, the best man I've ever met. I hope to raise this child like he raised me."

Though there were many unresolved problems in the game of thrones, they were trivial to this child. Jon would assure his survival and give him a good home. The destroyed city, angry dragon queen, and the scared people could be dealt with another time.

As the last living Lannister slept in Jon's arms, he could almost imagine that looking at this son of the lost queen was what Ned saw every time he looked at him. A future better than their parents.