Touch // Sandor Clegane

𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝑊𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑌-𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐸

☽︎𖣔☾︎

"𝐻𝐸 𝑁𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅 𝑊𝐴𝑁𝑇𝐸𝐷 you to be a Kingsguard" Cersei said, looking over their father's lifeless body "but here you are, protecting his dead body"

"What he built, it's ours. He built it for us, he meant it for us. They're going to try to take it away. All of it?" Jaime stated

"They?" Asked his sister

"All of them out there, our enemies. They're waiting in line to make sure he's really dead and as soon as they see the stones on his eyes, they'll set to work on tearing us apart"

"They have nothing to do with it. The man whi murdered our father, he tore us apart. He's the enemy I've been telling you for years, you've been defending him for years"

Jaime still didn't want to accept that Tyrion's guilty for his father's murder, even though he knew damn well that his brother did it "This is exactly what they want"

"And now our father is dead and that little monster is out there, somewhere drawing breath" she hissed
"Did you set him free? Tyrion may be a monster, but at least he killed our father on purpose. You killed him by mistake. With stupidity. You're a man if action, aren't you? When it occurs to you to do something, you do it. Never mind the consequences. Take a look" Cersei turned to ger father's body "Look at the consequences. Here they are. He loved you more than anyone in this world" Cersei bent and kissed her father's temple

Before exiting the Sept, a sound of joyous laughter filled her ears "And collect our little sister before she makes even more of a fool of herself" She commanded before leaving.

Jadeyn Lannister was outside the Sept's walls, behind some pillars the Gods know where, none of the folk seeing the Lannister Lady drunk and laughing like a mad woman next to the building in which the corpse of her father is resting.

He is dead, now she can finally be at peace. A smile, an honest smile crept on her face. She felt like pulling her hair out of her head from happiness and at the same time like drinking all the wine on this earth, if she already didn't start this task.

He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, the voices rang in her head, more glad than ever. It was like a dream come true. He was dead, breathing no more.

She sat down on the old concrete, her dress filling with dust and filth, but she was happy, once in her life truly happy.

The days of misery were finally over, she thought to herself. However she was too drunk to think clearly. The passing of her father won't make her life magically better. It did help a bit, yes. She was jealous at the Imp for not getting the chance to murder her father herself, to see the look in his eyes when he realises what's happening, to feel her skin drenched in blood once again.

Today life was good, tomorrow it might not be as good.

☽︎𖣔☾︎