Jaime had perfected that stance, years and years of just standing at the foot of the throne -- few had been spent in real action, Kingswood Brotherhood battles and then his slaying of the Mad King since he had seen little battle against Robb Stark. He had seen most of his good years wasted away at the foot of the throne of a crazed old man and Robert Baratheon.
Even with his honor being worth shit, he still managed to stand at the foot of that gods forsaken hunk of metal and made it look good. Regardless, in recent times Jaime had begun to find the brotherhood and the entire belief in the Iron Throne to be similarly comical. Though, that couldn't be said in front of Cersei, she would have his other hand for that.
The sound of Sandor's voice, a voice he knew well from the years in Lannister's service, made Jaime turn from the floor to ceiling window quickly and the trait of a knight in both of them made him mimic Sandor's gesture of reaching for a sword that didn't hang from his waist, with a hand he didn't have. The last he had heard of Sandor was that he had fled the Red Keep during the Battle of Blackwater, abandoning his king and his duty. Jaime's head canted slightly as his golden green eyes surveyed him. "Wouldn't it be My Lord Commander, Hound?" As common to Jaime, his tone was snide and his smile appeared to be much more like an arrogant grin.
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Jaime had perfected that stance, years and years of just standing at the foot of the throne -- few had been spent in real action, Kingswood Brotherhood battles and then his slaying of the Mad King since he had seen little battle against Robb Stark. He had seen most of his good years wasted away at the foot of the throne of a crazed old man and Robert Baratheon.
Even with his honor being worth shit, he still managed to stand at the foot of that gods forsaken hunk of metal and made it look good. Regardless, in recent times Jaime had begun to find the brotherhood and the entire belief in the Iron Throne to be similarly comical. Though, that couldn't be said in front of Cersei, she would have his other hand for that.
The sound of Sandor's voice, a voice he knew well from the years in Lannister's service, made Jaime turn from the floor to ceiling window quickly and the trait of a knight in both of them made him mimic Sandor's gesture of reaching for a sword that didn't hang from his waist, with a hand he didn't have. The last he had heard of Sandor was that he had fled the Red Keep during the Battle of Blackwater, abandoning his king and his duty. Jaime's head canted slightly as his golden green eyes surveyed him. "Wouldn't it be My Lord Commander, Hound?" As common to Jaime, his tone was snide and his smile appeared to be much more like an arrogant grin.