Book Jaime: Slowly understands that his relationship with Cersei isn't what it use to be. Begins to take seriously his position as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
Show Jaime: Throws the White Book of the Kingsguard across the table to make room for incest.
oh dont get me wrong, if this was an ideal world and the series was executed by disney i would have LOVED if Jaime and Tyrion parted as friends, BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENS CAUSE THIS IS GAME OF THRONES. The Lannisters are a mess, every single dynamic is toxic and you can’t just change that without changing everything they are. THE THING ABOUT LANNISTERS IS THAT JAIME, CERSEI AND TYRION ARENT GETTING ALONG WITH EACH OTHER. They could have been more powerful than Tywin if they had decided to work together but instead they are destroying themselves from the inside out. ITS SUPPOSED TO BE PAINFUL.
Tyrion leaves finding out his entire life has been a lie, feeling betrayed by Jaime, hitting him in the face, promising to fight him if they ever meet again, threatening Tywin and Cersei, that at least SHOULD BE RELEVANT SOMEHOW??
This is the rest of the scene:
Thank you, Brother,” Tyrion said. “For my life.”
“It was … a debt I owed you.” Jaime’s voice was strange.
“A debt?” He cocked his head. “I do not understand.”
“Good. Some doors are best left closed.”
“Oh, dear,” said Tyrion. “Is there something grim and ugly behind it? Could it be that someone said something cruel about me once? I’ll try not to weep. Tell me.”
“Tyrion …” Jaime is afraid. “Tell me,” Tyrion said again.
His brother looked away. “Tysha,” he said softly.
“Tysha?” His stomach tightened. “What of her?”
“She was no whore. I never bought her for you. That was a lie that Father commanded me to tell. Tysha was … she was what she seemed to be. A crofter’s daughter, chance met on the road.” Tyrion could hear the faint sound of his own breath whistling hollowly through the scar of his nose. Jaime could not meet his eyes. Tysha. He tried to remember what she had looked like. A girl, she was only a girl, no older than Sansa. “My wife,” he croaked. “She wed me.”
“For your gold, Father said. She was lowborn, you were a Lannister of Casterly Rock. All she wanted was the gold, which made her no different from a whore, so … so it would not be a lie, not truly, and … he said that you required a sharp lesson. That you would learn from it, and thank me later …”
“Thank you?” Tyrion’s voice was choked. “He gave her to his guards. A barracks full of guards. He made me … watch.” Aye, and more than watch. I took her too … my wife …
“I never knew he would do that. You must believe me.”
“Oh, must I?” Tyrion snarled. “Why should I believe you about anything, ever? She was my wife!”
He hit him. It was a slap, backhanded, but he put all his strength into it, all his fear, all his rage, all his pain. Jaime was squatting, unbalanced. The blow sent him tumbling backward to the floor. “I … I suppose I earned that.”
“Oh, you’ve earned more than that, Jaime. You and my sweet sister and our loving father, yes, I can’t begin to tell you what you’ve earned. But you’ll have it, that I swear to you. A Lannister always pays his debts.” Tyrion waddled away, almost stumbling over the turnkey again in his haste. Before he had gone a dozen yards, he bumped up against an iron gate that closed the passage. Oh, gods. It was all he could do not to scream.
Jaime came up behind him. “I have the gaoler’s keys.”
“Then use them.” Tyrion stepped aside.
Jaime unlocked the gate, pushed it open, and stepped through. He looked back over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
“Not with you.” Tyrion stepped through. “Give me the keys and go. I will find Varys on my own.” He cocked his head and stared up at his brother with his mismatched eyes. “Jaime, can you fight left-handed?”
“Rather less well than you,” Jaime said bitterly.
“Good. Then we will be well matched if we should ever meet again. The cripple and the dwarf.”
Jaime handed him the ring of keys. “I gave you the truth. You owe me the same. Did you do it? Did you kill him?”
The question was another knife, twisting in his guts. “Are you sure you want to know?” asked Tyrion. “Joffrey would have been a worse king than Aerys ever was. He stole his father’s dagger and gave it to a footpad to slit the throat of Brandon Stark, did you know that?”
“I … I thought he might have.”
“Well, a son takes after his father. Joff would have killed me as well, once he came into his power. For the crime of being short and ugly, of which I am so conspicuously guilty.”
“You have not answered my question.”
“You poor stupid blind crippled fool. Must I spell every little thing out for you? Very well. Cersei is a lying whore, she’s been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and probably Moon Boy for all I know. And I am the monster they all say I am. Yes, I killed your vile son.” He made himself grin. It must have been a hideous sight to see, there in the torchlit gloom.
Jaime turned without a word and walked away.
Tyrion watched him go, striding on his long strong legs, and part of him wanted to call out, to tell him that it wasn’t true, to beg for his forgiveness. But then he thought of Tysha, and he held his silence. He listened to the receding footsteps until he could hear them no longer, then waddled off to look for Varys
I don’t understand how d&d seem to think this isn’t important?? What am i supposed to do with a scene in which they just gently kiss each other goodbye like everything is fine and Jaime is a good loving brother who has never done anything wrong?? JAIME LIED TO TYRION HALF HIS LIFE. TYRION WILL FIGHT THEM IF THEY EVER MEET AGAIN. TYRION JUST FOUND OUT THAT THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE WAS NEVER A WHORE BUT THAT TYWIN LET HER GET RAPED BY ALL HIS GUARDS ANYWAY.
TYRIONS ENTIRE LIFE HAS BEEN A LIE.
HOW IS THIS NOT EVEN ADDRESSED.