[ The corners of his mouth twitch up just slightly. ] I'm not much for Targaryens.
[ Another gulp-- this time, Jaime expects the burn, and though it makes his eyes water a bit, he at least manages not to cough before he passes the horn back.
But he can't help that his voice is so damn rough. ] I killed the last one to take the throne, actually.
[ His head's feeling a little lighter, but Jaime ignores this in favour of bending slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs.
Remembering Tormund had called him King Killer and then immediately proceeded to tell him a story like a friend is the only reason Jaime answers him honestly. ]
He wanted to burn the whole city down. [ He doesn't lift his head to meet Tormund's gaze, but his voice is quiet in an intimate, one-on-one way regardless. ] The city and the millions of people in it.
[ Jaime smiles, tired. It's funny; this story used to ruin him just thinking about it, and now he speaks as easily as if he were talking about the weather. ] I'd already seen him burn so many innocent people in his throne room. Guarded his chambers while he raped his wife, night after night. I don't think there was a shred of humanity left in him.
No, he was a monster who hurt people. And he was better off dead.
[ The wildling frowns, outright scowls in response to the detailing of all the mad king's faults and wrongs. Kings might not be how his people rule themselves, but there's a difference between not being willing to be ruled by a king and not recognizing how a leader is supposed to act and take care of his people. ]
Then it was good you killed him. We would do no less to any of our chieftains who did the same. You don't kill your own people, not if they did no wrong. That is not a leader.
[ He can't help the laugh that comes out, the sound caught between disbelief and genuine (if not slightly manic) joy. ] Right? [ How is Tormund Giantsbane the only person who understands, right away, why it is killing Aerys was the right thing to do? Tormund, who hadn't even been there to see or hear of his dreadful acts? ]
Oh, we say that oaths and promises and words are everything. That honour is important, that it's what makes or breaks a man. But what good is an oath if you swear it to someone monstrous? Is it honourable to let your king hurt the innocent, the weak?
I wanted to be a knight ever since I was a boy, and to serve someone so-- so cruel, so convinced everyone was an enemy who deserved to die... [ He laughs again. He's not sure if it's because of the drink or the subject, but his head does feel lighter. ]
Perhaps I was born on the wrong side of the Wall. Your people seem to be far more reasonable than the idiots here.
Of course we are more reasonable. We do not kneel to every man who demands it of us because of the blood he says is in his veins. We are our own, and so we protect our own.
[ If Jaime were to discuss wildings with Jon, maybe he'd have some extra perspective; with their independence comes plenty of other less noble things. Shifting loyalties, petty squabbles, and just because Tormund has his opinions on things doesn't mean they're all the same. But his words, nonetheless, are plenty sincere. ]
[ Jaime's just thankful he has something to hold onto, even if it's entire decades' too late. ]
"Protect our own". [ He says this with a lofty, exaggerated sort of air. Naturally, it's Cersei that comes to mind. Cersei, and Tyrion, and his sons and daughter, and his father. ] Yes. I like that, too.
[ A question pops up, though, in his foggy little mind. Jaime finally lifts his head, but it's not without a small sway that betrays how poorly he held this northern drink. ]
Who is your own, then? Are there other Giantsbanes out there? A family?
[ Tormund just happened to pick the only Lannister who didn't drink to offer his blasted ale to, is all.
Jaime, at least, doesn't fall over. The only trick he needs to stay steady is not to move too much. ]
Two daughters. [ The concept of Tormund as a father is almost funny, if not for the fact that he couldn't possibly be any worse than Jaime. ] They didn't come with you?
[ He shakes his head, somber now where he'd been all teasing and good mood before. It's not a sore subject, exactly, only a difficult one; he left for a good reason, the best reason, but that doesn't mean he doesn't worry about them constantly. ]
Their place wasn't in the middle of a raid, they're too young for that yet. They're being looked after.
[ So long as the village hasn't been overrun by white walkers, anyway, but that's something he's doing his best not to think about. ]
[ Jaime, who's never had to comfort another soul in his life outside of his brother and sister, gives a decidedly clumsy, ] I'm sure they are.
[ And whilst his siblings may be endeared to his stupidity, Tormund certainly isn't. So he backtracks a few more topics-- messily, yes, but at least he's making some effort to keep them from talking about children and the separation from them, forever. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And what do you think of the dragon queen?
no subject
[ Another gulp-- this time, Jaime expects the burn, and though it makes his eyes water a bit, he at least manages not to cough before he passes the horn back.
But he can't help that his voice is so damn rough. ] I killed the last one to take the throne, actually.
no subject
[ He takes a deeper swig when it's passed back, then caps it and tucks it under his cloak. ]
That's enough for both of us, I think. Why did you kill your last king?
[ No judgment, only curiosity; the silly southerners seem so set on being ruled, it seems odd they would kill one of them. ]
no subject
Remembering Tormund had called him King Killer and then immediately proceeded to tell him a story like a friend is the only reason Jaime answers him honestly. ]
He wanted to burn the whole city down. [ He doesn't lift his head to meet Tormund's gaze, but his voice is quiet in an intimate, one-on-one way regardless. ] The city and the millions of people in it.
[ Jaime smiles, tired. It's funny; this story used to ruin him just thinking about it, and now he speaks as easily as if he were talking about the weather. ] I'd already seen him burn so many innocent people in his throne room. Guarded his chambers while he raped his wife, night after night. I don't think there was a shred of humanity left in him.
No, he was a monster who hurt people. And he was better off dead.
no subject
Then it was good you killed him. We would do no less to any of our chieftains who did the same. You don't kill your own people, not if they did no wrong. That is not a leader.
no subject
Oh, we say that oaths and promises and words are everything. That honour is important, that it's what makes or breaks a man. But what good is an oath if you swear it to someone monstrous? Is it honourable to let your king hurt the innocent, the weak?
I wanted to be a knight ever since I was a boy, and to serve someone so-- so cruel, so convinced everyone was an enemy who deserved to die... [ He laughs again. He's not sure if it's because of the drink or the subject, but his head does feel lighter. ]
Perhaps I was born on the wrong side of the Wall. Your people seem to be far more reasonable than the idiots here.
no subject
[ If Jaime were to discuss wildings with Jon, maybe he'd have some extra perspective; with their independence comes plenty of other less noble things. Shifting loyalties, petty squabbles, and just because Tormund has his opinions on things doesn't mean they're all the same. But his words, nonetheless, are plenty sincere. ]
no subject
"Protect our own". [ He says this with a lofty, exaggerated sort of air. Naturally, it's Cersei that comes to mind. Cersei, and Tyrion, and his sons and daughter, and his father. ] Yes. I like that, too.
[ A question pops up, though, in his foggy little mind. Jaime finally lifts his head, but it's not without a small sway that betrays how poorly he held this northern drink. ]
Who is your own, then? Are there other Giantsbanes out there? A family?
no subject
[ He watches him more critically, reaches to steady if he looks too unsteady. Apparently he'd overestimated what the southerners could handle. ]
No Giantsbanes but me, I took the name myself. I do have two daughters back in my village though, and hopefully they are there still.
no subject
Jaime, at least, doesn't fall over. The only trick he needs to stay steady is not to move too much. ]
Two daughters. [ The concept of Tormund as a father is almost funny, if not for the fact that he couldn't possibly be any worse than Jaime. ] They didn't come with you?
no subject
Their place wasn't in the middle of a raid, they're too young for that yet. They're being looked after.
[ So long as the village hasn't been overrun by white walkers, anyway, but that's something he's doing his best not to think about. ]
no subject
[ And whilst his siblings may be endeared to his stupidity, Tormund certainly isn't. So he backtracks a few more topics-- messily, yes, but at least he's making some effort to keep them from talking about children and the separation from them, forever. ]
Are you marching south with Jon Snow, then?