● G A M E O F T H R O N E S ●
It's not that I need saving. It's that I need to feel that I'm worth saving. There's a difference.
[Season 1-8]
All rights to George R.R. Martin and HBO!
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JAIME ENTERED HIS FATHER, TYWIN'S TENT AT THE LANNISTER CAMP, WHICH WAS JUST ON THE BORDER OF RIVERRUN. TYWIN LANNISTER HAD HIS WHOLE ARMY READY TO ATTACK THE STARKS, ESPECIALLY CATELYN, FOR TAKING TYRION. JAIME STARTED READING HIS FATHER THE SCROLL HE RECEIVED FROM KING’S LANDING AS TYWIN SKINNED A DEAD STAG.
“Summoned to court to answer for the crimes of your banner,am, Gregor Clegane, the Mountain.” Jaime read aloud. “Er, ‘Arrive within the fortnight or be branded an enemy of the crown’.” Jaime scrunched the roll in his hands and looked at his father. “Poor Ned Stark. Brave man, terrible judgement.”
“Attacking his bastard daughter was stupid.” Tywin told him, dropping a knife beside the stag. Jaime watched on as he cut open the stag’s stomach and pulled out it’s intestine. “Lannisters don’t act like fools.” Jaime shook his head, knowing Tywin’s words were just to spit him. “Are you going to say something clever?” Tywin wiped the blood off his hands. “Go on, say something clever.”
“Catelyn Stark took my brother.” Jaime reminded him.
“Why are they still alive?” Tywin asked, grabbing a knife.
“Tyrion?”
“The bastard.” Tywin began cutting the fur off the stag.
“Lyanna.” Jaime told him, remembering how her long hair fell just below her chest.
“Ah, Lyanna.” Tywin turned to Jaime and smirked. “You even remember her name.”
“One of our men interfered, spared her through the leg before I could finish her.” The image of Lyanna falling to the ground flashed through Jaime’s mind.
“Why is Lyanna still alive?” Tywin repeated the question.
“It wouldn’t have been clean.” Jaime informed him.
“Clean.” Tywin laughed while holding some of the stag’s fur up. “You spend too much time worrying about what other people think of you.”
“I could care less what anyone thinks of me.” Jaime interjected.
“That’s what you want people to think of you.” Tywin turned to his son, holding a knife.
“It’s the truth.” Jaime tries to convince him, but knew deep down his father was right.
“When you hear them whispering ‘kingslayer’ behind you back, doesn’t it bother you?” Jaime winced at the word, Kingslayer.
