#cers and tyrion had it worse and did not have privileges that j did

[ilynpilled]

“The perfect son that has the weight of having to embody an impossible ideal on his shoulders.” Where does he have this conflict? We have no proof of him being affected by Tywin. All he cared about was Cersei so he gave it all up for Cersei.

My father. Jaime wondered whether Lord Tywin had received the goat’s demand for ransom, with or without his rotted hand. What is a swordsman worth without his sword hand? Half the gold in Casterly Rock? Three hundred dragons? Or nothing? His father had never been unduly swayed by sentiment.

Those who were there at court during this time have recounted that Aerys's behavior was erratic. He was untrusting of any save his Kingsguard-and then only imperfectly, for he kept Ser Jaime Lannister close at all hours to serve as a hostage against his father.

“but my father’s forces reached the city first. Pycelle convinced the king that his Warden of the West had come to defend him, so he opened the gates. The one time he should have heeded Varys, and he ignored him. My father had held back from the war, brooding on all the wrongs Aerys had done him and determined that House Lannister should be on the winning side. The Trident decided him.”

“You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night,” she heard him tell Jaime once, when her brother had been no older than Tommen.

Naked and alone he stood, surrounded by enemies, with stone walls all around him pressing close. The Rock, he knew. He could feel the immense weight of it above his head. He was home.

“What place is this?” “Your place.” The voice echoed; it was a hundred voices, a thousand, the voices of all the Lannisters since Lann the Clever, who’d lived at the dawn of days. But most of all it was his father’s voice, and beside Lord Tywin stood his sister, pale and beautiful, a torch burning in her hand. Joffrey was there as well, the son they’d made together, and behind them a dozen more dark shapes with golden hair.”

“Sister, why has Father brought us here?”

“Us? This is your place, Brother. This is your darkness.” Her torch was the only light in the cavern. Her torch was the only light in the world. She turned to go.

“Stay with me,” Jaime pleaded. “Don’t leave me here alone.” But they were leaving. “Don’t leave me in the dark!”

But Tywin Lannister endured, eternal as Casterly Rock. And now you have a cripple for a son as well as a dwarf, my lord. How you will hate that…

“Jaime,” Lord Tywin said, as if they’d last seen each other at breakfast. “Lord Bolton led me to expect you earlier. I had hoped you’d be here for the wedding.”

“I was delayed.” Jaime closed the door softly.

“Lord Tywin pushed himself out of his chair, breath hissing between his teeth. “Who did this? If Lady Catelyn thinks—” […] Lord Tywin looked away, disgusted.

“They have taken off his hands and feet, but Clegane seems amused by the way the Qohorik slobbers.”

Jaime’s smile curdled. “What about his Brave Companions?”

“The few who stayed at Harrenhal are dead. The others scattered. They’ll make for ports, I’ll warrant, or try and lose themselves in the woods.” His eyes went back to Jaime’s stump, and his mouth grew taut with fury. “We’ll have their heads. Every one. Can you use a sword with your left hand?”

“The king’s justice will be done.”

The king’s justice. “You would execute your own son?”

“You do.” Lord Tywin rose as well. “A duty to House Lannister. You are the heir to Casterly Rock. That is where you should be.”

“NO!” Jaime had heard all that he could stand. No, more than he could stand. He was sick of it, sick of lords and lies, sick of his father, his sister, sick of the whole bloody business. “No. No. No. No. No. How many times must I say no before you’ll hear it?”

Firelight gleamed golden in the stiff whiskers that framed Lord Tywin’s face. A vein pulsed in his neck, but he did not speak. And did not speak. And did not speak. The strained silence went on until it was more than Jaime could endure. “Father…” he began.

“You are not my son.” Lord Tywin turned his face away.

“No man can stand a vigil for seven days and seven nights,” Ser Balon said. “When did you last sleep, my lord?”

“When my lord father was alive,” said Jaime.

“Allow me to stand tonight in your stead,” Ser Loras offered.

“He was not your father.” You did not kill him. I did.

Father, give her strength. Almost a prayer . . . but was it the god he was invoking, the Father Above whose towering gilded likeness glimmered in the candlelight across the sept? Or was he praying to the corpse that lay before him? Does it matter? They never listened, either one.

“Father,” he told the corpse, “it was you who told me that tears were a mark of weakness in a man, so you cannot expect that I should cry for you.

Jaime looked to make certain Lord Tywin was not rising from his bier in wrath, but his father lay still and cold, rotting.

“We all dream of things we cannot have. Tywin dreamed that his son would be a great knight, that his daughter would be a queen. He dreamed they would be so strong and brave and beautiful that no one would ever laugh at them.”

“I am a knight,” he told her, “and Cersei is a queen.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. The woman raised her hood again and turned her back on him. Jaime called after her, but already she was moving away, her skirt whispering lullabies as it brushed across the floor. Don’t leave me, he wanted to call, but of course she’d left them long ago. He woke in darkness, shivering. The room had grown cold as ice.

this is so silly. being the favorite child of an abusive parent is also not a good thing to be. jaime had been playing the role of mediator since he was a child between all three of his only loved ones, who we know he has a deep rooted fear of being abandoned to isolation by, while having to balance what he believed was entirely conditional love. tywin never once viewed him as someone with real autonomy either. as heir, he was shaped by and fed tywin’s messaging the most directly. there is a reason the “love speech” was just overheard by and not directed at cersei. and he was always just a vessel for tywin to project his ideal legacy onto. he is primarily a tool for tywin. he is pissed when jaime is maimed not out of concern but because his perfect vessel was made imperfect. jaime is an extension of tywin. his extreme punitive justice, that sours jaime, is rooted in that too. it is more about appearances than about love. he was meant to embody a standard from birth that is not even real lol. jaime had experienced tywin’s favor hence he has a drastically different relationship to desiring it in any shape or form than his siblings, who are put aside or outright despised, do. this is why his emulation is rooted in some very different things. george wrote how these different children were affected and shaped in different ways — while also highlighting their differences, personal agency, and accountability — by an abusive patriarch, that embodies most of this series’s anti-themes, because it makes them unique characters. he can explore different things with them instead of having the same exact narrative three times. the parallels and juxtaposition enriches the other dynamics rather than diminishing them.