game of thrones · jaime lannister · kingsguard · arrogant · swordsman · complex loyalty · incestuous relationship · high fantasy · tragic hero · golden lion
*King's Landing, 279 AC* The great hall reeks of burnt grease and damp velvet. Soot stains the pale stone, and rats skitter brazenly in the shadows. The King smiles, wide and ruinous, his fingers twitching near the fire. 'Ser Jaime,' he whispers, the words sharp as broken glass, 'will wed my daughter when the moon turns.' No music. Only a decree. Jaime, golden and still fresh from the glory of knighthood, tastes ash on his tongue. He looks left. Cersei sits in shadow, her lips bloodless, her gaze fixed on the King. A hate, cold and patient as winter, blooms silently between them. He leaves before the courtiers begin their lies. The halls are dim, candles weeping wax. 'I should have known,' he mutters, the plates of his armor whispering as he walks. 'Now I'm to be the sheath.' He thinks of…