Jaime is furious, and his sister is an idiot, but all things considered, he'd rather have it this way than their roles reversed. Which is, as he feels the weight of his golden hand, the first time that's been the truth in a while. Best not to think on that, though. Moving onto more pressing matters
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Hi, Jaime! Here's a boy you might know.
Standing a bit away, his expression has suddenly gone completely and totally blank.
On the other hand, the pony-sized wolf next to him's expression is not blank at all. Lips curled back from enormous fangs, Grey Wind is not pleased. It shows. And Robb is considering just letting him have at. For now, keeping one hand on his ruff and one near the sword on his hip, he says nothing, letting Jaime take the fact that he exists in.
He figures he can leave the talking to that one.
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Is he watching the sword hand? Because it's loosening the sword, actually. And Robb is trying to indicate to his wolf that he wants this one, dammit, so you stay back.
Robb's nostrils flare once. "Your regards. From Roose Bolton."
His eyes narrow, hand uncurling slowly. "You can have them back. With my compliments."
Grey Wind, predictably, does not want to wait. And lunges. Bad people killing his boy? Get pwned.
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That was not- he did not mean- why does it always--
And then there's a wolf at the door. Jaime does get one good punch in, but that seems to only make the animal even more angry (if such things were possible), and... the inevitable happens, really.
In his last, fleeting moments, Jaime looks regretful.
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Robb Stark looks down at Jaime's body and can't decide if he's satisfied or disappointed. Revenge wasn't nearly as nice as he thought it would be. Not hardly.
If there is anything left of Jaime's expression, there is certainly something odd about it.
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