“I hate you.”
Ronnika wanted to snort at his words but she settles for biting her lip to keep herself from laughing, oh, Jaime, he really did hate these gatherings. The chattering crowd of nobles dipped in their finery; their lips twisted either in a coy smile or an arrogant smirk as they walked down the hall, her hand wrapped around his arm. The hall was extravagantly decorated with finery as well as some exotic flowers, which she was sure did not grow in Westeros.
“You should have not made me angry.” A pause before she added, “Consider it your punishment.”
At her teasing words, Jaime could not help but chuckle, shaking his head a little as he looks at her. His sweet girl had a bite to her and it gladdened his heart, much more than he could say. He pulled out her chair before taking his seat; it was only then the feast began after his father made some nonsense speech and raised his glass in the air, a toast to them. The heir of Casterly Rock and his blushing bride.
Jaime Lannister could not help but scoff at his own words, blushing bride. Hardly. The woman was stubborn, obstinate, and reckless but, he could not help… as he looked at her from the corner of his eyes, the torches enhanced the gold that dripped off her as if to give her an illusion of molten gold and silver, only to be clashed by the lilac of her eyes and pink primrose of her lips, which were carved into a false smile, almost coy. Oh, yes, blushing bride indeed. Yet, when her eyes met his, they softened and he could deny the tenderness in her gaze. No, he could not because she would look at him with the same softness and tenderness if his hands were around her neck and this very innocence drove him to madness.
And he brought her hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of her hand as if they were the only two people in the hall. Yes, it was utter madness.
****
Her eyes roamed the halls, making note of sitting arrangement and the people seated at those esteemed tables. Some of them wore masks whilst others waited for the dance to commence, so, they could put them on. Her eyes settled on the Northmen table, Robb had not worn his red mask as it rested on his lap, surely, they would bring out the blue of his eyes. He was occupied in conversation amongst companions but she did not miss one man in the white mask, Jon, it seemed had taken up to her offer and attended the feast. Her eyes paused on his lithe figure, he rather looked handsome in his white mask and rich grey tunic, no doubt borrowed from Robb. She frowned, she did not like the idea of Jon borrowing clothes from anyone, let alone Robb, not when he had on several occasions reminded Jon of bastardy. She made a note to send tailors to his room, she would order him a few sets of extravagant clothing that would be befitting to a prince, just as he was.
Behind them, Ironmen were seated. Victorian Greyjoy, she noticed was wearing a gold cloak that reached his boots but what was rather interesting was how it was shaped as Kraken. Not accounting for the taste, she thought to herself, he would look great aging ox in any clothing, no matter the cloaks he wore. Asha was seated across him, dressed in a rich black tunic with tiny gold embroidered krakens, her eyes she noticed repeatedly fleeted to Northmen's table, first at Robb and then at Jon, where they paused frequently for long intervals. There was no doubt in her mind that Asha wanted to make inquiries about her little brother to Robb, but she did not why they lingered on Jon for long? Perhaps, she had recognized those curls and nursed a silent amusement that a bastard was seated amongst the Tywin Lannister’s tables? She did not know but she would rather not have Jon anywhere near Greyjoys, they were all fools and more trouble than they were worth. Especially from the fist-clenching fist of the young man seated next to her, was that her lover? He was seated too close to her to be considered just her companion. The man was pink-cheeked with sandy blond hair and lithe psyche, attractive enough to draw attention to himself, and yet his eyes, only ever rested on Asha. Perhaps, unrequited love? She did not know but surely, she could use this to her advantage as she now understood why her eyes lingered on her husband, oh, Asha had particular taste in men, pretty blond men with the lithe psyche.
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Lacuna
Fanfiction"Why?" He asks. "Because I love you, a little too much." She whispers, gazing into those emeralds that were his eyes. Wherein Kingslayer is married. I do not own any Game of Thrones character.