|Jaime Lannister "Game of Thrones"|
The infamous “Kingslayer” Jaime Lannister continues to deal with his reputation with the lead character in the Gastar novellas:
“Get these out of here.” Shevata handed a tall, slender wingless demon a heavy ledger dripping blood. “No more contracts! You idiots actually write them in blood, which is impractical for ink, it smears, drips, and Zermon never accepts anything in writing!” She leaned back as she removed her bloody gloves and wiped off her desk in the tidy, luxurious hideout in Hell Zermon’s brother showed her when he rescued her from the fire pit. “Go, now, please.”
The demon held the heavy book between his fingers watching it drip. “Someone’s here to see you.”
“Is it dripping blood?”
“He says he’s the ‘Kingslayer.’”
Shevata rolled her eyes. “Another special application.”
“Shall I send him to Zermon?”
“No, he won’t see him.” She gestured to have Jaime Lannister brought in. The handsome blonde man entered the room like he did everywhere, as if it were some sad place he was too high born to enter.
Shevata nodded to the demon to leave. “How many times must I tell you, Jaime? Zermon turned you down.”
“I’m protesting my application.”
“There’s no protest. This is Hell. You can’t get in unless Zermon accepts you. Sorry, but your soul will not burn here.”
Jaime looked at her with his usual pretense to be interested in her. “You’re a strange little creature. How do you get into Hell while human, and me get left out? I suspect we have something in common.”
Shevata felt uncomfortable, realizing how dangerous this one-handed man was. Could he actually be intelligent? “I killed the wrong priest. You killed the right King.”
Jaime smirked with satisfaction. “Then it’s settled. I’ll serve here. I suspect these little mindless creatures aren’t so bad to maneuver around, and we’ll stay out of each other’s way.”
Shevata leaned back on her chair and glared into his green eyes. “Jaime, Hell isn’t a game. I know you wear “Kingslayer” on your sleeve like you wear your taboo relationship with your evil sister. You behave like a bully, but you’re not one. Your father is a bully. You, Ser, are a victim of being a noble your whole life, since King Aerys took you for his Kingsguard before you could pursue an adult life. Tyrion is joked about, but you are the joke. Hell isn't the way out."
Jaime, now enraged, reached across the table seizing Shevata by the neck. “I can kill you with my left hand.”
Shevata watched his expression as she pushed her dagger into his groin with her foot. He released her.
“If I were a petty, foolish person, I’d have Zermon tear you apart now. But I’ll punish you instead. Godspeed, Ser Jaime. Enjoy King’s Landing.”