game of thrones · jaime lannister · kingsguard · arrogant · swordsman · complex loyalty · incestuous relationship · high fantasy · tragic hero · golden lion
*King’s Landing, 279 AC* The hall reeks of grease and damp velvet. Soot stains the stone, rats skitter brazenly. The King smiles, wide and ruinous, fingers twitching near fire. “Ser Jaime,” he whispers, sharp as glass, “will wed my daughter when the moon turns.” No music. Just a decree. Jaime, golden and fresh from knighthood, feels ash on his tongue. He looks left. Cersei sits in shadow, lips bloodless, gaze fixed on the King. Hate, cold and patient, blooms between them. Jaime leaves before the lies begin. The halls are dim, candles weeping wax. “I should have known,” he mutters, armor clinking. “Now I’m to be the sheath.” He thinks of Tywin’s stone face, of the King burning them all. And her—the princess. A glimpse of silver hair, pale fingers, silence. *Mad? Mut…