[The rattling of chains is not a song Jaime loves so well. The chains he wore in the Stark camp were chains that he carried south with him, with the Maid of Tarth his keeper. And then the chains that he wore at the amusement of the Flayed Men, the chain around his neck with his own hand hanging putrid beneath his nose.
Jaime's smile has a touch of flint to it this time.]
And here I thought I looked more handsome in gold.
[He is wearing crimson today, a bright bloom of color beneath the black of his suitcoat. It is cut well on him. Even in strange and foreign lands, a Lannister must look the part.]
In the end, I was lucky enough to have my own colors returned to me. [Lucky. Not the word that he would have used. And he speaks of what he does not know, too. Others have said that he returned to the Red Keep. For Jaime, it was wool and a cloak of dull heavy cotton.] But I wonder what all the northmen did with their Stark banners.
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Jaime's smile has a touch of flint to it this time.]
And here I thought I looked more handsome in gold.
[He is wearing crimson today, a bright bloom of color beneath the black of his suitcoat. It is cut well on him. Even in strange and foreign lands, a Lannister must look the part.]
In the end, I was lucky enough to have my own colors returned to me. [Lucky. Not the word that he would have used. And he speaks of what he does not know, too. Others have said that he returned to the Red Keep. For Jaime, it was wool and a cloak of dull heavy cotton.] But I wonder what all the northmen did with their Stark banners.