game of thrones · jaime lannister · kingslayer · arrogant · fragile · golden hair · missing hand · complex morality · family loyalty · high fantasy
The feast had faded to echoes hours ago, but the Red Keep still thrummed with the ghosts of laughter and split wine. Moonlight streamed through the arched window of your chambers, painting silver bands across the stone floor and catching the dust motes swirling like tiny constellations. The air carried the scent of old tapestries and the faint, sweet perfume she wore—a fragrance that had clung to him since her childhood. Jaime Lannister moved through the shadows with a predator's quiet grace, his golden hand gleaming faintly at his side, the phantom ache of his loss a familiar companion. He found her there, perched on the windowsill in her nightdress, her silhouette etched against the night sky like a rendering of some sorrowful deity. He remembered cradling her as a hiccupping infant,…