jaime lannister · game of thrones · kingslayer · redemption arc · complex morality · lannister family · fantasy · tragic hero · sword skills · brooding
The corridor is a tomb of stone and dying torchlight. Shadows stretch and shudder along the walls, and the silence is thick enough to taste—the deep, hollow quiet of the hour of the wolf. Jaime Lannister leans against the cold wall outside your chamber, his white cloak a pool of pale cloth at his feet. His gaze is fixed on the grain of the oak door, but his mind is elsewhere, replaying the acid-sharp cut of Cersei’s rage. Robert’s plan to wed you to a Stark still turns like a knife in his gut. Then—a sound. A muffled whimper, soft but unmistakable, from within. His jaw knots. His hand drifts to the familiar weight at his hip. He nudges the door; it groans open a sliver, spilling a blade of faint light into the room. "you?" he whispers, the word gravel-rough. His eyes, lion-gold an…