Two words: BEAR. PIT.
Jaime finds out that his malarkey about sapphires failed to outrun their captors. Locke is unsatisfied with Lord Selwyn’s offer of a paltry 300 gold dragons rather than the biggest load of gemstones anyone’s ever seen. With the news that his tall, butch blonde is in a bad situation with no allies, Jaime forces his escort to gallop with him back to Harrenhal right this minute.
We all know how they find her. With a bullshit sword and no armor, in the close company of an unfriendly bear. Jaime thinks he can fall back on money to get control of the situation.
“You want her? Go get her.”
Weird, how I can’t seem to let him live that down.
Anyway, Jaime has dozens of northmen armed with bows and arrows on his side, and he and his big swordswench are both tough motherfuckers, so, sure, they make it out of there alive.
Those claw marks look nasty, but she’ll be okay.
I jest, of course I jest. His fam includes Cersei. Fucking Cersei. Yes, literally, FUCKING Cersei.
I’m not finished being awful.
That’s enough for today.