Work Text:
He loved the sound of destruction. It was the sign of a task well done. There were the screams and the fire, and even that infernal Lannister song was pleasant in his ears that day.
Maybe he should send for a singer to make his own elegy of the events that he helped arranging.
‘The Red Wedding’, they’ll call sing.
It will teach them no one fool a Frey, not even a king.
‘Come’ my little wife gives me her hand, helping me up my chair ‘You still have to give me my present’