AN: I absolutely think that all the characters you're wondering if they'd show up have a high possibility of showing up...because Game of Thrones itself has too many characters and one can only do so much with OB characters...unless I get high or drunk or both and use all of project Leda and Project Castor. Mobilize all the clones!

Also, are people still reading this ridiculous stuff?

When she feels she has calmed down enough for her to think clearly, Delphine starts to analyze things in the most logical way that she can under the circumstances. Still, the look in Cosima's eyes and the way her voice broke is something that would follow Delphine for days.

How could you?

She shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts.

Who are you? It's like I don't even know you anymore.

Me neither. Delphine wonders if her younger self, the one who wasn't involved with the clones, with, DYAD, or Topside would recognize her if she saw herself now. I highly doubt it.

Damn it, how the hell am I supposed to endure this? She can feel another stab and another wave of tears.

I had to keep on deceiving her for her own good...she always found out anyway.

A new theory emerges in her mind.

That would explain things, or at least Cosima's behavior. I've seen how remnants of that other life still cling on to this one...my betrayals still echo for her, but I'm sure she doesn't remember. I suppose it's normal, expected even, for her to react that way.

She rakes a shaky hand through her curls.

After the incident with Rachel, I had to fill in for the responsibilities...the decisions I had to make, the things I had to do...I don't blame her for hating me, when even I myself hate how I turned a shade darker everyday, for the sake of my love but also because of my ambition.

Delhine walks out to the balcony, hoping that the air would help clear her head; a futile attempt really.

How is it that the only thing you want to do is save the person you love but the only thing you end up doing is hurt them?

She understood, completely, and supposes that it is deserved.

But still, it hurts, and the worst part is that I get it, but just because I understand why doesn't mean I am spared from the pain. And as if on cue, the image of Cosima, angry, hurt, and broken, comes back to mind, trampling on the little coherence she managed to scrape back.

Non, not at all, not one tiny little bit.

She perched herself on the rail, her feet dangling dangerously over the side.

I know this much, I don't know why but I have access and connection to my other memories, and now that I've been given another chance to be with her, a fresh start, there's no way in hell I'm giving up.

A tiny part of her brain warns her and reminds her of her much bigger part and purpose there, of a world on the brink of destruction, but at the moment, still fresh from reliving her memories, Delphine didn't care.

Rachel goes to her father's study where she first saw his will, or her study, now that she's about to take his place. She tries not to remember the times that she has come here, addressing bussiness matters, her father askng her how her day went and she answers "it went well" with her usual indifferent tone.

She crosses the room and sits on the chair, focusing her mind on ignoring the pang of something,she doesn't want to explore it, and soak in on the power she now holds instead.

She hasn't come here since that night the foreigner arrived and demanded to see the body, but now, she has to because she needs her father's notes and plans, to get to know the Kingdom and everything going on if she's to succeed his place. She sorts through the piles and piles of unorganized papers and random things.

How in the world did he run Westeros with all this mess? How would he even find what he was looking for? Her type A personality was cringing in disgust, missing the comfort of her previous pristine systematized sterile office, and if she could let servants clean and organize the place, she would, but these are important documents, this room contains the important transactions and dealings of the kingdoms; I'll have to do it myself.

Mechanically, she starts sorting the papers at the desk, but after an hour, she can feel the aches of physical labor, something she has never ever done. I hate you for making me do this.

Rachel Lannister does not sweat, she has never done menial chores, she's used to ordering people around, but here she is, sweating and organizing her father's study. The frustration of having to clean and fix his things finally gets to her, and she forcefully shoves the desk with a snarl. It makes her feel a little bit better;she sighs and places both palms at the edge and lets her arms hold her upper body up, closing her eyes with her head down and bracketed by her shoulders.

She opens her eyes, glaring at the floor where some of the papers now lay, somehow regretting her actions because now she has to pick them up. Huffing, she kneels, bending to gather them, and then she stops, her hand frozen in mid air. She squints her eyes at the small rectangular imperfection on the floor where the desk used to be covering. It is a smaller rectangle on one of the limestone blocks that make up the floor.

Anybody else would have missed it, but she is Rachel Lannister, and Rachel Lannister can spot imperfections as if they were the bane of the world. She skims her fingers over it, then slowly applies pressure on it. Nothing happens, and she tries pressing on different spots. When her fingers reach the top edge, she feels it give way, and presses harder until it slowly opens.

A hidden compartment. How ingenious.

All her frustration evaporates, replaced by excitement at her discovery, only for it to return when she digs her hand in and pulls out scrolls of letters. They were unmarked, no signatures on them, but Rachel sees a name on one, and her jaw clenches.

My health seems to not agree with my drinking, but do not worry, little Cosima is all right, although she is now asking questions left and right that I have no idea how to answer. Damn you for giving her another book, I'm looking like an idiot in front of my daughter. Hah, you should visit and answer them, since you're the only person who can. She sleeps better now. And you should too, all is right in the realms, don't wear yourself down.

It was obviously from Sunspear, and she knows that her and Cosima's father were like brothers, but she never thought her father had a link with Cosima. She feels the twinges of resentment taking hold. She looks again at a particular line "But do not worry, little Cosima is all right..."

He was worried about her? Asking about her? Did something happen? What is his concern? Why is he concerned?

She does not like having questions that are unanswered, which seem to pile up as she reads the other letters, all seemingly random and bearing no familiarity for her, but she knows that they mean something otherwise he would not have hidden them.

There is one particularly rough and primitive in appearance. I am not sure. Expect arrival to confirm. I warn you though, make no harm.

A nondescript one. They will be difficult to obtain, but it can be done.

Another roll of paper. The dark nights approach, wise Lion.

I swear I will get to the bottom of this,she swears with determination, skimming through the rest.

A knock on the door startles her, because she has explicitly instructed that she won't be disturbed. She hurriedly puts everything back in its place, moving the desk to its original position, then stands up, her usual regal and composed self.

"Come in." Her voice was cold, ready to chew out whoever it is on the other side of the door, but when she sees who it is, she is more intrigued than irate, feeling a sense of deja vu.

For the second time, she slipped past the guards.

"Well, at least you knocked this time." she says icily at Delphine who was looking at the scatter in the room.

"He was never one for neatness." Rachel says in lieu of an explanation, "What is it that you came here for?"

"I would like to see the body one last time before you take him back to Casterly Rock."

"Haven't you poked and prodded enough already?" her voice was laced with animosity.

"No more. I only wish to see if there are differences, or if I may have missed something, although I doubt I have."

"You better not have." Rachel almost snarls.

"One final observation. Just to eliminate other possibilities."

"Really, if it weren't for your importance, I would have had your pretty head off your shoulders already." and she leads the way out of the room, locking and securing the door.

"Now that I don't doubt." Delphine replies half seriously.

Rachel half turns to her, and she swears there is almost a smile on her lips...almost.

Cosima slowly approaches the altar, coming to stop beside it, and looks down at the former Hand's body. It was the closest she's seen him, she had always avoided coming this close to pay her respects, but now, she couldn't put it off any longer, because his body will be interred in the morrow. She reaches out, cupping his jaw.

I owe so much to you. You fostered my mind and acted as my second father. I don't think I can adequately express how much you influenced me. And even though our conversations can be counted on one hand, I'll miss them. I'll miss our intellecual exchanges. You were the best Hand this Kingdom has ever had.

The lower part of her hand that's brushing his neck encounters a sharp line.

What...? she runs her fingers again, feeling the skin. It was almost imperceptible to detect, unless you knew it was there, which must be why no one has ever noticed, she thinks, then looks around at the solitary knight standing guard by the door, coming to a decision.

"Hey, hi, excuse me?" she smiles and waves.

He approaches. "Yes, Princess?"

"I was wondering if you could maybe stand guard outside the door. I'd like to have a moment in private, pay my final respects."

He looks at her with uncertainty.

"There's no one here but me, you can stand guard outside."

He seems to think it over, figuring that there's no harm in it. "Very well, Princess Cosima."

She returns to where she was, hanging her head, the very picture of mourning. The guard feels a sudden sympathy for her, and hurries out to grant her privacy. The moment she hears the doors close, she bends down, slowly turning Ethan's head to the left, looking for the line.

It's a cut.

She notices the way it transects the artery beneath it. She leans in for a closer look. It's freshly made. Her heart picks up its pace at this revelation. Who would do this, and why?

Once again, she remembers that dark cloaked person. Is this how they killed him? Did she do this?

In her crouching state, she notices something else, something not visible unless at a certain angle. On the small space where his chest was visible, she can faintly see another cut.

She looks back at the door, making sure she's alone for what she's about to do. Taking a deep breath, she unbuttons his top clothes, exposing his chest. She straightens, too dumbstruck for any coherent thought. There were cuts all over his body, one over his heart, another over his lungs, one more on the right side of his abdomen, and they all look recently done.

She was too shocked and gaping at her discovery that she didn't hear the door open, a sharp outraged voice echoing in the empty halls.

"What in seven hells do you think you're doing?!" She whirls around to see Rachel approaching with angry strides, the foreigner behind her. Cosima wonders what she was doing there with Rachel, but her attention is drawn away and towards Rachel's furious expression upon seeing her father's bare torso.

"What is the meaning of this?" Her voice was low, murderous, and under any other circumstance, Cosima would fear for her life, but at the moment, she is more troubled by Rachel's lack of reaction upon seeing the cuts.

She knows. She knows about the cuts. She can feel her own fury rising.

"I could ask you the same thing." she meets Rachel's glare head on and sees a pause in them, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Rachel's demeanor changes for the tiniest bit.

"It is none of your concern." she replies coldly, covering Ethan's body, fixing his attire. "Now walk out of here, forget this ever happened, and I might just let you live for desecrating his body."

Cosima forges on, not mindful of the danger she is in. "He was murdered wasn't he?"

For the second time, Rachel pauses. "It is none of your concern" she repeats, slower this time, each word punctuated with warning.

"Yes it is. The best thing that's ever happened to this kingdom was murdered" her eyes flit towards Delphine at the last word, whose eyebrow lifts in confusion, "and she's got something to do with it."

Both blondes were staring at her, one with shock and amazement, the other a mixture of wanting to strangle her and keeping a facade to refute the accusation, which she does in the next moment.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"I saw her! Before her alleged arrival, I saw her slip inside the throne room after I-" talked to you. Dread, alarm, and chagrin blend in her head, noticing how Rachel was still immovable as ice. She also knows about her.

"Were you in on this? Did you have him killed?" The words slipped out mindlessly, not having the time to be filtered because her head was racing. "Was this your plan all along? To be the next Hand?" Rachel's mask cracks, and she steps closer to Cosima, almost like a prowl, a lioness before the kill.

"Do you wish to reconsider your statement, Viper? You think I would have the Lord Hand harmed?"

Bespectacled eyes roll in annoyance at how formal everything sounded. "By the gods, you cannot even say his name. He's your father."

"And you are NOT his daughter!" Rachel explodes at the accusation she can hear in Cosima's words, as if she failed in being a proper daughter. It didn't help that, while she was brilliant, she has never connect to her father the way Cosima can in that intellectual scientific way. It also didn't help that she saw the paper with Cosima's name on it.

It is after she has left the throne room in shaky knees that Cosima realizes that this is the first time she has seen Rachel show a genuine reaction, uncovered without her usual mask, but at present, she was surprised by the outburst, wondering what Rachel meant.

"Maybe we should tell her the truth." A soft articulated voice reminds them that they were not alone. Rachel whirls around to face the other blonde, an unreadable expression on her face.

Delphine takes the silence as an opportunity and explains further. "She already knows that it is a possible murder, she knows I am involved with this, although not the way she thinks, and it's safe to say that she would not stop digging-"

"You're damn right about that." Cosima snaps, and doe eyes flicker towards her for a moment.

"-about this matter. It is also risky to dispose of her, because then, all of Dorne and Lady Alison will not let it rest. She was clever enough to come all this way, maybe she can even help, I've heard she has an exceptional mind, and I do believe it is true."

You have? Cosima is surprised, secretly pleased. You do? She notices Delphine smiling at her, and it was only then that she realized that she was the one smiling in the first place. She drops it immediately, annoyed that she apparently couldn't hold it back, annoyed at the small twitch of amusement at the corner of the potioner's mouth when she purposely stopped smiling, annoyed that she thinks Delphine smiling is one of the most beautiful things she has ever seen, annoyed that her chest is beating like a drum.

Rachel, who was still silent, still thinking of reasons not to act out on the numerous ways she has planned for Cosima to suffer, cannot deny the logic in those words, but mostly, she relents for the sake of her father.

"She can keep a secret. She would not endanger anyone or anything without having proof and facts." Martell and Lannister both stare at her, wondering what made her say those words seeing as they are still basically strangers to each other. She can keep a secret extremely well, because she told no one of Ethan's cipher written in the book he gave Kira...not even her Alison or Sarah. Delphine tries to erase the echoing "and not me" which she wouldn't even allow herself to think of.

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to Delphine of Lys." Rachel's eyes were boring down on Cosima, who she had to give credit for standing her ground.

"Because I intend to create more variety of alcohol and I have a business proposal for you."

The Lady Hand blinks, of all the things she expected to be said, this was definitely not one of them.

"You are not a business person."

"No, but I am the best vintner and soon to be best brewer, if you are willing to listen. I can leave the bussiness part to you." She gets no response, only a slight tilting of the head and hands clasping themselves in front of a thin gold belt, the one she recognized as the business pose.

"What is your proposal?"

"What is her purpose here?" Cosima counters, almost glaring at the person who she was admiring awhile ago.

For a moment, fire flashes in Rachel's eyes, subsiding as she gives herself time to simmer down, but when she speaks, it is with the same intensity. "She is here to confirm if he's been poisined. She had to collect certain parts from the corpse to be able to determine the presence of poison." She watches in amusement as different emotions flit through Cosima's very open and very readable face.

. . Then something resembling guilt.

As much as Rachel likes it with sadistic pleasure, she is also still very much murderous.

"Now what. Is. Your. Proposal."

This seems to snap Cosima out of whatever mental cognizance she was having." Yes. Uhm. The wine currently being made and shipped from Dorne is already top notch, but sometimes we cannot meet the demands from King's Landing alone. I can set up a cellar here, have products exclusively for the Capitol, save the money and effort for transport. You can even sell them if you wish."

Delphine silently watches the interaction, a spectator on the side. Rachel can appear indifferent all she wants, but Delphine knows that she would not pass up an opportunity like this. Then again, it's Rachel, and she takes insults personally.

"And what is it that you're after?"

"I would like to have a tour in King's Landing and High Garden's fields and granaries, I intend to make a new stock of ale and wine with new flavors, test new formulations and methods, along with the type of wood to be used as barrels. It would bring income for both the Capital and Dorne."

"This is not a negotiation."

"It is if I am to produce the best in quality."

The innate drive for Rachel to always strive for the best, be it something she does or something she acquires, finally rules over. "Very well, but I'll have to speak to Lady Tyrell first before you poke your fingers in her fields." She turns, finished with the conversation and about to call the guard outside to take her conundrum out of the room.

"Also, I request my own work place, I'd like to do my research here."

Rachel cannot believe this, her, the master at twisting people's arms, has hers twisted behind her back by this damn Dornish.

"Fine." she sneers.

"Wait, really?" Cosima did not expect her to actually agree, since she herself thinks that it is already pushing beyond the line.

"But remember that this is the last and only time you will ever walk away from me without burn marks, not after accusing me and insulting me. Consider yourself lucky that there was someone here on your behalf, and that you had something to offer in exchange." And without another word, she calls out for the guard.

The princess was staring at the taller blonde who was smiling at her. Why did she speak in my behalf? She doesn't know what she's feeling, which one to process first, because true, she may have had some of her questions answered, but more questions cropped up in their place. She feels a hand close in on her arm, and is suddenly aware of the gauntlet tugging her away.

"And make sure she actually goes to where she says." It was more of a threat than a reminder, answered with a nervous "Yes, m'lady."

Cosima drops her eyes, not ready to have her heart running all over again, but when she passes by Delphine, she is close enough to feel the warmth from pale skin. It makes her shiver, and she hates it.

When they are out of the Great Hall, she finally gives in to the shakiness in her knees.

"Hold on. Can we stop?" she yanks at her arm, forcing the guard to stop and look at her with resentment, blaming her for putting him in a difficult situation. "I'm feeling a little...shaky at the moment." his expression turns to worry as she leans her weight on the wall, her chest heaving and her eyes closed.

Wow. That could have gone worse. I didn't expect for Rachel to actually accept my terms. I also didn't expect her to move hell and high water just to prove if it's a murder. On that note, her jumbled thoughts become even more jumbled as the person who will be proving the murder comes to mind. How will she prove it? What are her methods? And how did she know so much about me? How did she escape detection for days if she was here before she was presented? Why do I still hear the warning bells in my head if she didn't kill him? Why does it always feel like this whenever she looks at me, or when she smiles at me, or even if it's simply her is it that I always feel like running and match my heart's pace whenever she's there...I don't even know if I want to run from her or to her.

Question upon question heap up on each other, making her grimace. The guard looks at her, unsure. "Where to, princess?"

"Maegor's holdfast" she decides having a puff of a certain Dornish plant would help her relax.

It has been three days since Rachel watched the cart with her father's remains disappear in the horizon, bound for Casterly Rock. Donnie had offered a place in the Sept of Baelor, that he can have a spot because he earned it and is very much deserving, which is a great honor because only royals are interred there. She refused. He would have wanted his body to be beside mother's.

And now she's standing before the King, back turned towards the people who have come to witness the official naming, controlling the urge to grab the pin and put it on herself at Donnie's clumsy attempts to pin it on her finest dress. When he finally manages to do it, he straightens, beads of sweat clinging on his forehead.

"I present to you, the new Hand of the King."

She faces the crowd, mostly cheering, but some, particularly the older men from noble houses, wore long faces. Her glare reminds them of the fate of those who dared oppose and question her position as Master of Coin, and they rethink their decision, slowly clapping along.

The doors suddenly open loudly, and everyone turns to look at the interruption.

When the person who barged in steps into view, the whole crowd gasps as one, but not in enraptured manner like Delphine's case, but of pure shock. A brief silence hangs around the room, and once the initial shock is over, the silence is broken by the torrent of murmurs and whispers. Some were in awe and fascinated, (Cosima and Scott), some were flabbergasted and alarmed(Alison), most were aghast, horror and disgust painted on their faces as if she was an anomaly, which she sort of is. She stops at a small distance below the Iron throne. Delphine's eyes were wide with recognition, mentally commenting on how this is unmistakably the same person, but rougher, more raw, more primal and untamed.

They are unabashedly gaping at the coopery skin, painted with blue stripes starting from beneath the collar bones, stretching and forming a V to her lower back. There were braids on the right side of her scalp, dark eyes fierce and painted with khol, sinewy arms bent a bit at the elbows, leather wrapped hands casually atop the handle of an arakh and a curved dagger on either side of the hips.

When she speaks, her voice is rough and guttural, belying her feral intensity.

"Khal vezhven" She addresses the King.

I don't know if this is a surprise or not, because I've been running on coffee for the past 2 days now. I'm pretty sure I have more coffee in my veins than I have blood. These characters have destroyed me in the most wonderful way.
Ok. I think I'll go sleep now, I'm slowly turning more and more like Helena the longer I stay awake.