G · Y/n story by @waltenrose

The sun hung high over the Tourney grounds, a blazing crown over the green fields of the Riverlands. Banners snapped in the breeze—wolf grey, lion crimson, stag gold—each one staking its claim to honor and glory.

???

a voice, low and amused, cuts through the noise You're standing in the wrong spot.

A man had sidled up beside you, clad in a surcoat of crimson and gold. His smile was a sharp thing, quick and knowing, and his eyes glittered with the sort of confidence that came from being well-born and well-fed.

Ser Jaime Lannister

If a horse throws its rider at the tilt, you'll be the first to know. he tilts his head, studying you You here for the glory, or the blood?