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 Lion and the Wolf, Robb Stark
Jaime Lannister
 Posted: Aug 16 2013, 10:55 AM
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There were reasons why he had chosen a life where he did not have to lead. Even this life had not been his original idea either, but his sister’s instead so they could be together in secret. That has not worked out initially, but it had worked famously during the past fifteen years with him serving as a member of the Kingsguard to his sister’s husband, the King. See, Lannisters did always get what they wanted.

His father’s, sister’s, and brother’s actions were far more skillfully maneuvered than his were. If he did have the inkling to want something or want to do something, he went for it, regardless of the consequences he knew or didn’t know. He was a warrior; he did not sit idly by while other people squabbled with words. Let him squabble with his sword. There were direct results, not all of this shady cloak-and-dagger nonsense where no one knew the real truth of anything. Unlike the rest of his family, Jaime rarely lied. He was the most honest and straightforward than the rest of them, but his reputation of being an arrogant cock and a Kingslayer tainted any words he spoke so most people often thought he, too, was either playing with them or mocking them. He couldn’t say he minded much, as he did not genuinely care what each individual person thought of him. But he did have a sense of honor, and being called ‘Kingslayer’ was a neverending hit to his honor. But did he tell anyone why he did what he did? No. He sought no glory or recognition, unlike nearly everyone else in the world. He did the deed because it was required.

It was one of the few times where he had done something completely unbidden by anyone else. He did have those moments, and they could be plucked and named out of his history just by identifying which actions were considered rash yet direct. Such as pushing the young Stark out the window when he witnessed Jaime and his sister sharing one of their many intimate moments. Did he wish the boy ill will? No, but the boy saw something he shouldn’t have. He couldn’t be trusted not to keep the secret, couldn’t be trusted not to sully his sister’s reputation. ‘Sister-fucker’ would’ve been a blight on Jaime’s reputation too, but it would’ve been worse for his sister’s life, he imagined.

The other rash but completely initiated by Jaime move in his life was committed when he sought out Lord Eddard Stark to demand his brother be given back. Did he wish Lord Eddard Stark ill will? No, but, like his son, he stood between him and being able to protect someone close to him. Unlike his father and sister, Jaime had never resented Tyrion for his defects or been genuinely cruel to him... except for once, and that instance remains a great guilt in Jaime’s heart, but that instance had also not been orchestrated by him, but by their father. That did not make it right, but the cruelty had not been intentional on Jaime’s end.

These were the reasons why he did not lead. He was not a leader and not a follower either, but a warrior. When placed in charge of 15,000 men to storm through the Riverlands at his father’s request, he accepted the role and did as he was bid for it was something to do and expected of him as Lord Tywin’s son. He had the battle expertise and reasonable enough leadership experience, when it came to direct fighting. The resulting victories were easier than he imagined, however. The Riverlords forces were smashed at the battles of the Golden Tooth and Riverrun; Jaime’s forces even caught the heir to the Riverlands, Ser Edmure Tully and many of his knights, before they besieged the capital, Riverrun. Parties were sent out to the nearby strongholds to flush out remaining enemy forces as an effort to continue holding Riverrun hostage.

Always the one to be immersed directly in matters rather than be sitting back and watching everything play out, Jaime attended these raids. It wasn’t merely to boost morale; he just didn’t want to be bored.

One of these raids turned out to be a trap to lure him out, which he fell for blindly. His outriders fell, and Jaime was left stranded. However, he continued moving forward, being the fearless creature that he was. Let him meet his fate head on so that no one could claim him a coward; at least he’d go down fighting to the end. With the few remaining men he had, he led them to cut their way towards Robb Stark so Jaime could slay him. He knew the Young Wolf might have had potential, but Jaime had years of experience on him. Naturally, he could not get to him, but Jaime did manage to slay Daryn Hornwood, Eddard and Torrhen Karstark of the Young Wolf’s personal guard.

Jaime was held prisoner in Riverrun after that while the remainders of his forces were chased out or fled, it didn’t matter to him which happened, back west. And it was here he sat, chained up in a comfortable little area within the capital, often visited by men paying their respects to him and his reputation in the form of lovely words or spit. Such charming folk, he mused.

It hadn’t been too long since the above events had occurred, but Jaime still remained in the same armor and clothing he had worn when he was taken. Mud caked him in areas while dirt clouded his skin in other areas. His beautiful blond hair was mussed and streaked with dirt as well, but he still retained a rather attractive, wild look about him, especially since his emerald-green eyes never appeared anything but cool and amused. This lion would not be tamed, no matter how many chains they put on him.
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Robb Stark
 Posted: Aug 27 2013, 07:36 PM
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The Young Wolf
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The young wolf marched to the holding place of his capture, while on the surface he held all the graces of tranquil calmness that seems to exist with prevalence in the stark men, yet within the auburn-haired male, an anger stirred, and the likes he had not experienced before.

He didn’t understood why he was gnashing his teeth in the first place, but as he got nearer and nearer to Jaime’s cell the more his fury rose even though he wouldn’t dare to show it, after all that would only amuse the golden boy of the Lannisters wouldn’t it?
His sisters are held captive, but with no word of Ayra, his father is missing and three of his personal guards had been slain by Jaime’s hand. And now he’s hearing of protests and his own men grumbling, urging him to let Jaime go and let him taste the wrath of the Karstarks and the Hornwoods. But Robb had confounded all attempts to free him for this purpose; it was too great a risk of losing his sisters in retaliation.

So naturally, as much as he wishes to see Jaime gets his just desserts, his hands were tied and there was little he could do in the current situation.

When he arrived at the lion’s cage, the guard opened the gate wordlessly without being commanded and Robb exchanged a brief contact of eyes before he brushed past him, the blue-eyed youth didn’t go any further once he was past the doorway, he only looked in with nonchalant eyes that masked his spite for the man. Dressed in the dull colours of the north, a dark ebony cloak with his steel armour, a chestnut wolf’s fur around his shoulders and neck and his sword strapped to his belt.

Quietly he studied Tywin’s prizewinner, it was a pitiful sight. The once radiant blonde locks of curls reduced to a mess of grease and mud, the golden kingsguard armour soiled by mud, the male’s blemish less skin retaining patterns of smudge marks of the earthly mud. And there were the eyes, the bright green eyes that still preserved that arrogant look about him, the smugness and mocking amusement of everything that had transpired.

Since the attack, Robb and his forces had rode Jaime from town to town, so Robb fully expects the kingslayer to be very fatigued, not to mention very uncomfortable from the look of the cell. “Your current comforts are a far cry from a tent or a bed...” spoke the Stark as he kept his gaze on the man “And other such luxuries.” Commented the male, hinting at the man’s lack of being able to piss.

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Jaime Lannister
 Posted: Sep 2 2013, 05:59 PM
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Jaime did not feign his confidence or pride. He did not sit up straight to give the impression he could not be broken, because he and they should know that their treatment of him would not break him. He was too valuable of a prisoner for them to do things to him, and even if they did do things to him, he doubted that would break him either. So, rather than sit up straight against the pole he was attached to, he did slouch. He would be here for some amount of time, so he wanted to be comfortable. Appearing comfortable would piss them off too, no doubt, but that wasn’t why Jaime sat the way he did. He sat the way he did because he wanted to sit the way he did. If someone else overanalyzed the way he was sitting or the way his eyes were gleaming brightly, that was their problem. He was an open book, but in a family full of manipulative sneaks, his open-book policy often came across as an act of deceit. It could have been infuriating to him, but he didn’t care enough about other people to be bothered by it. All he needed in life was his family, and he had that.

The young lion barely gave the young wolf a glance over when he stepped into his cage, but he continued to have his ever-present smirk on his face, his fine lips curling naturally into such a look. The boy before him might be a man by age standards but he was still half the lion’s age, still making him a boy. And a green boy at that for, despite all his successes thus far, this was still his first experience on the battlefield. Under different conditions with different family ties and alliances, perhaps Jaime would have been in the position to teach this boy more of the art of swordplay and the like. All Jaime’s issues with the Starks weren’t his own issues so there would have been no personal vindictiveness on his side. All there would be was a man teaching a younger man how to be a better warrior. But, that was in another life.

Now the boy just stared down at him with a mixed look of anger, frustration, and possibly begrudging respect since Jaime had accomplished quite a bit before he was captured. “Are they? Why, I’ve hardly noticed at all, considering what conditions the Starks and Tully’s live in general,” Jaime mused wryly. Since he had spent most of his captured time in Riverrun, it was best to reference the family whose residence had hosted him. “Have you tired of playing Lord and commander for the night or did you just wish to honor me with your presence to see how I was faring?” he crooned with that same easygoing tone as he leaned his head back against the pole in order to continue looking at the wolf in as lazy a way as possible.
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