Fandom: Game of Thrones Characters: Jon Snow, Jamie Lannister Rating: T Warnings: None Word Count: 636 Words/Prompts Used: 4) a library, a snowstorm, the color pink
The sound of footsteps approaching is what first caught his attention.
Jamie sat huddled on the stone floor, his hands and feet tied together. The frozen air in his dark cell seeped into his bones. The snowstorm outside was determined to break its way into the caverns the Starks had turned into their prisonholds. Jamie had thought the Eyrie had its lock on dungeons. Turns out, they had nothing on Winterfell. He was hungry; he was filthy; he was freezing; and most of all, he was exhausted.
That didn't stop him from raising his head to check out his visitor though. If Jamie was going to die, he was determined to do it with dignity. To his surprise, however, none other than Jon Snow - King of the North and Gods Knew What Else - walked into his view.
Jon said nothing at first, just gazed upon Jamie through the iron gated door. Jamie desperately wanted to say something witty, but found he was just too tired to care. The boy he'd once mocked the last time he had been here had now become a man worthy of his respect. Jon now stood tall, even among men twice his size. Jamie had thought him a fool back in King's Landing. He knew now Jon was no fool. He was the only one who had kept his eye on the ball, refusing to play the game of thrones. Winter had indeed come, and the dead were coming with it. Jon was the only one who had prepared.
Jon nodded to the guard by Jamie's door. The guard opened up the gate and roughly pulled Jamie up. "If you wanted to dance, you only had to ask nicely," Jamie taunted the guard. The guard looked about ready to strike him when Jon finally spoke up.
"Remove his chains."
Both the guard and Jamie looked at Jon in shock. Jon betrayed no emotion. The guard knew to follow orders the first time though, and reluctantly took off Jamie's bindings. Jon then said, "Leave us." The man gave a slight bow, then left the two of them alone.
Jamie stood appraising Jon, as most assuredly Jon stood appraising him. "Well, Your Grace," Jamie drawled, "will it be swords or fists?"
"Neither," came the reply. "Follow me."
The silence unnerved Jamie as they walked. Jon led them out of the dungeon, through some winding passages, and up some stairs. Finally, Jamie could take no more. "Bold move, turning your back on me."
Jon approached a door and turned to the Kingslayer. "I need your help," Jon looked him squarely in the eyes. "You're here to help. Should I be afraid?"
The statement stunned him. Of all people, a Stark should not want a Lannister's help - let alone trust one. But then it turns out, Jon Snow is not a Stark.
"It's so obvious now," Jamie suddenly realized. "I can't believe I never saw it before. You're just like him."
Finally, Jamie saw a crack of emotion flit across the king's composure. Jon quickly recovered, and opened the door, allowing Jamie to step past him into the room.
It was a library, and to Jamie's relief, warmth emanated from the fire burning brightly in the large fireplace. The reds, yellows, pinks, and oranges of the flames cast a comforting glow across room. A massive table was situated prominently in the middle, and Jamie recognized immediately the map of Westeros that lay upon it. He walked over to the table to assess the positioning of the makeshift items being used to mark the movements of both living and dead.
"They've breached the wall?"
"Yes. The ravens we are receiving indicate they are moving at the pace of ten miles a day."
Jamie nodded, face grim. This was why he was here. "Let's talk strategy then."
Wow. This is an amazing moment between two key characters. I love the turning of tone and emotion. Great character study, with a twist, and even advances the storyline. Great job!
A nice scene featuring these two - it's been a long time since they've seen each other and a lot has changed. Jamie's taunt is in character, as is Jon's more taciturn nature. Good work :)
Characters: Jon Snow, Jamie Lannister
Rating: T
Warnings: None
Word Count: 636
Words/Prompts Used: 4) a library, a snowstorm, the color pink
The sound of footsteps approaching is what first caught his attention.
Jamie sat huddled on the stone floor, his hands and feet tied together. The frozen air in his dark cell seeped into his bones. The snowstorm outside was determined to break its way into the caverns the Starks had turned into their prisonholds. Jamie had thought the Eyrie had its lock on dungeons. Turns out, they had nothing on Winterfell. He was hungry; he was filthy; he was freezing; and most of all, he was exhausted.
That didn't stop him from raising his head to check out his visitor though. If Jamie was going to die, he was determined to do it with dignity. To his surprise, however, none other than Jon Snow - King of the North and Gods Knew What Else - walked into his view.
Jon said nothing at first, just gazed upon Jamie through the iron gated door. Jamie desperately wanted to say something witty, but found he was just too tired to care. The boy he'd once mocked the last time he had been here had now become a man worthy of his respect. Jon now stood tall, even among men twice his size. Jamie had thought him a fool back in King's Landing. He knew now Jon was no fool. He was the only one who had kept his eye on the ball, refusing to play the game of thrones. Winter had indeed come, and the dead were coming with it. Jon was the only one who had prepared.
Jon nodded to the guard by Jamie's door. The guard opened up the gate and roughly pulled Jamie up. "If you wanted to dance, you only had to ask nicely," Jamie taunted the guard. The guard looked about ready to strike him when Jon finally spoke up.
"Remove his chains."
Both the guard and Jamie looked at Jon in shock. Jon betrayed no emotion. The guard knew to follow orders the first time though, and reluctantly took off Jamie's bindings. Jon then said, "Leave us." The man gave a slight bow, then left the two of them alone.
Jamie stood appraising Jon, as most assuredly Jon stood appraising him. "Well, Your Grace," Jamie drawled, "will it be swords or fists?"
"Neither," came the reply. "Follow me."
The silence unnerved Jamie as they walked. Jon led them out of the dungeon, through some winding passages, and up some stairs. Finally, Jamie could take no more. "Bold move, turning your back on me."
Jon approached a door and turned to the Kingslayer. "I need your help," Jon looked him squarely in the eyes. "You're here to help. Should I be afraid?"
The statement stunned him. Of all people, a Stark should not want a Lannister's help - let alone trust one. But then it turns out, Jon Snow is not a Stark.
"It's so obvious now," Jamie suddenly realized. "I can't believe I never saw it before. You're just like him."
Finally, Jamie saw a crack of emotion flit across the king's composure. Jon quickly recovered, and opened the door, allowing Jamie to step past him into the room.
It was a library, and to Jamie's relief, warmth emanated from the fire burning brightly in the large fireplace. The reds, yellows, pinks, and oranges of the flames cast a comforting glow across room. A massive table was situated prominently in the middle, and Jamie recognized immediately the map of Westeros that lay upon it. He walked over to the table to assess the positioning of the makeshift items being used to mark the movements of both living and dead.
"They've breached the wall?"
"Yes. The ravens we are receiving indicate they are moving at the pace of ten miles a day."
Jamie nodded, face grim. This was why he was here. "Let's talk strategy then."
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