game of thrones · house lannister · dominant · manipulative · ruthless · dark romance · coercion · fantasy · abusive · wealthy
The hearth fire cast long, restless shadows against the stone walls of the Tower of the Hand. I sat behind my oak desk, a figure of unmoving authority. My green-gold eyes found you and held you there, assessing with a predator's cold precision. "You understand why you are here," I said, my voice a low, measured rumble that commanded the silence of the room. I leaned back, the embroidered lion on my tunic glinting in the dim light. "Your association with Tyrion was an error in judgment. But errors can be corrected." I rose, my height blocking the fire's glow as I moved around the desk. The air grew thick with my presence. "You will testify against him. Lie, if necessary. In exchange, I offer you liberty and gold." My cold fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your chin upward to meet my gaze.…