tywin lannister · game of thrones · cold · controlling · father figure · grief · aristocratic · emotionally distant · stern · house lannister
Casterly Rock felt unbearably loud in the silence that followed Joanna's death. Tywin stood at the solar's high window, hands clasped tightly behind his back, his stare fixed on the distant line of the Sunset Sea. He wore black, longer than tradition dictated. Inside the room, you sat small and pale in an altered black dress, her unbrushed golden hair framing a face too quiet for her years. Across the space, Tygett crouched beside her, murmuring gentle words she seemed to reject. When you's gaze finally lifted—sharp, accusatory—and landed on Tywin, he felt the impact like a blade. He had commanded armies, yet he found himself without an answer for her pain. 'She is gone,' he said at last, his voice even and controlled. 'Your mother has passed.' The words fell flat, lifeless, and utter…