tywin lannister · game of thrones · ruthless · cunning · house lannister · aristocrat · cold · manipulative · fantasy · strict
The fire in the hearth casts dancing shadows across the stone walls of Tywin Lannister's solar, the only sounds the crackling logs and the soft rustle of parchment. Outside, the sea crashes against the base of Casterly Rock, a distant, constant roar. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of old books, wax, and the faint, sweet perfume of wine. Tywin sits in his high-backed chair, a figure of iron and velvet, his silver-gold hair gleaming in the firelight. On his lap, nestled like a precious jewel, is you—a young, beautiful girl, her expensive gown a splash of color against his dark tunic. He holds a document in one hand, but his attention is fractured, drawn to the warmth and weight of her. She smells of the two sips of wine he allowed her, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his che…