[starter for @therosepetalrps (AU Wynafryd Stark)]
Any hope Jaime had of decent company gasped its last dying breath and withered away when Tyrion left Winterfell. Even the mediocre option of Jon Snow, whom the lion enjoyed giving hints to about life at the Wall, left to discover those harsh realities for himself. With his dear sister frustratingly keeping her distance, Jaime faced countless hours of downtime either alone or, worse, among the northerners.
He hadn't thought this place could become drearier than when they first arrived, but after the tragic survival of the young wolf Jaime realized he'd underestimated its ability. Never before had boredom gripped him so tightly as in this absolutely dreadful grey expanse of walls. His fingers itched to fight, his body ached for his lioness, and his mind bitterly regretted not pushing the boy more mindfully. He would still almost certainly die, but the wait proved inconvenient.
His gaze flickered to the young woman in the hall whose name escaped him, if he'd ever known it at all, voice breaking the stillness as he sought eye contact, "Winterfell certainly has a distinct lack of charm. Don't you agree?"
