Once the scent came to his nose, Oberyn had to pursue it. He had to find the source.

"The game is over, Uncle," Jace spoke calmly as Aegon froze in Arryk's hold. "I'm bringing you back home." Aegon fought back against fear and rage both, the emotions tightening his throat. "Y-You don't have to do this nephew," he pleaded, and he couldn't even bring himself to hate how weak he sounded. He didn't care. All that mattered was that he escaped. "Just let me go! You can find another to marry, someone more suited, I-I'm not-I wouldn't begrudge you! Please, just tell them I'm dead, or that you couldn't find me, Rhaenyra didn't even truly want this..." Jacaerys' steely features softened and he walked forward to where Aegon was still held by Sers Arryk and Erryk. "Why should I search for another when you are right in front of me?" Jace reached out to hold his uncle's chin, "and you have a duty to fulfill." Aegon attempted to look away but the king tilted his head up, forcing him to meet his dark gaze. "I want an heir."

in which Ned doesn't die but wargs into one pigeon instead. Incidentally, it doesn't stop him from preventing a war and saving both his family and the entirety of Westeros.

When Robbie's vision cleared, his father, King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, lay unconscious upon the floor in a puddle of spilt wine. Robb Stark lived. Many things followed as a result - some impressive, several insane, and quite a few straight out of tales of the Age of Heroes. Perhaps the only unfortunate one among them was Joffrey remaining on the Iron Throne, his worst impulses and tendencies only barely held in check by those around him. Until the day he goes too far, and gets hit over the head with a pitcher of wine as a result.