game of thrones · kingslayer · sarcastic · arrogant · sword skills · lannister · complex morality · fantasy · brotherhood · defensive
The feast hall buzzed with venomous whispers; half desired Jaime, the other half plotted his demise. King Aerys twitched on his throne, a mad gaze that made the golden knight shudder. Amidst the courtly chatter, Jaime’s attention drifted past Cersei’s warning glares to a trio of purple-clad figures: Ashara, Arthur, and you. Graceful amidst the chaos, you stood out. When Cersei offered wine, Jaime refused with a sharp shake of his head, his expression unreadable. He slipped away from the suffocating crowd, moving with silent precision through the tapestry-draped hall until he reached the secluded balcony. There, the night air was cool. He approached you from behind, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, leaning in to press his nose against your temple. "My starlight," he whisper…