A/N: Well...Sorry for the long-ish wait -if anyone is truly waiting, but I found it hard to work on this chapter for some reason, I got stuck when I started the Jaime POV. Plus, I watched the whole second season of Penny Dreadful over the past few days and read a few fanfictions as well and I myself find I am incapable of writing while i'm engrossed in other media.
It was interesting seeing different reactions to the last chapter and speculations (as well as suggestions) on what it is Lorraine wants from the Tullys. I guess you're about to find out.

Enjoy!

Roslin

Roslin fidgeted with the end of her long sleeves as Myra led her to the gardens where the Lady of Casterly Rock awaited her.

She tried not to think of all of Edmure's warnings and instead focused on the darkened head she was fast approaching. The figure was sitting down and leaning back into a chair, staring out at the view of the Sunset Sea in front of a table adorned with a myriad of different foods.

"M'lady," She heard Myra announce, "Lady Roslin has come."

The Lady turned around to face Roslin, standing up to face her at once when she had registered her presence.

She was older than Roslin by a number of years, but something about her seemed evergreen and youthful as she smiled kindly are her. Roslin thought to herself how beautiful Lady Lorraine really was, for she had a gentleness the servants did not mention lay in her features. The wind blew gently through their hair and Roslin marveled at the thickness and richness of the Lady Lannister's hair in comparison to her own fair brown hair.

I wonder if Edmure would think her fair. Or if he would think her fairer than I. She thought to herself silently.

Giving her a shallow bow, Roslin clasped her hands together and began to address her,

"My Lady, I am honoured to meet you, and humbled by your request that I join you." She fumbled out the words, still not entirely sure how to address the silent woman. Myra had assured her on their way there that she should speak to Lady Lorraine just as she would with anyone. "But how can she speak to me?" She had asked, to which Myra replied, "M'lady knows how."

Now nodding to Roslin, Lady Lorraine motioned for her to take a seat and they both sat down in unison.

It was awkwardly silent for a few moments and Roslin had to fight to finally look up from her yet to be filled plate.

Lady Lorraine was looking at Roslin strangely, like she was examining something, like she was checking if she was real. As the Lady moved to grab a hold of something next to her Roslin finally registered the notepad sitting on the table next to her. So this must be how.

"How is your son?" She had asked first by way of her notes and Roslin smiled gently at the thought of her son asleep safely in their rooms.

"He is well, my lady. Though perhaps he much prefers sleeping in the day time to the night." Her hostess gave a slight chuckle -or it could have been scoff, Roslin could not yet tell since she was struck at hearing the sound of her voice. It was a normal voice, for the most part, but the fact that it was there led Roslin to realise that the Lady's muteness was somewhat of a choice.

They proceeded on with light small talk as the food was served and Roslin, in slow waves, grew less apprehensive and relaxed more in present company.

"How are you finding Casterly Rock?"

"Are you comfortable here?"

"What do you spend your days doing?"

That was the content of most of the Lady's questions, and it seemed more and more obvious to her now that Lady Lorraine had very little idea of their whole situation, including their lodgings. Somehow it made Roslin feel better, for it only placed the Lady far away from all that happened and confirmed that she had nothing to do with any of it.

After a long silence following the niceties Lady Lorraine materialised from the folds of her lap a small letter and slid it across the table in front of Roslin. Roslin eyed the small piece of paper, and then back at her hostess and gulped down before her small fingers picked up the paper and proceeded to read it.

"My Lady, forgive that there is no other way I could communicate this to you but to write it down, and I preferred to get this letter done beforehand than to have you wait while I write it.

Just in case you have not already been told so, I would like to extend to you my warmest welcomes to Casterly Rock.
I realise, my Lady, that our situation is not an ideal one. But I would like you to know, despite any animosity between our houses -or husbands for that matter, that you can consider me a friend. Or at least someone that wishes you well.
Your unfortunate situation is a result of this monstrous war, and I understand completely if you have taken it to heart that the Lannisters are the enemy. I am not here to defend any house -even if it may be the one I have married into, but I am here to let you know that I wish for you and your family to be comfortable here.
I understand you, strangely. The feeling of being away from my home is so foreign, even if I am not too far, but I still feel so lonely without any friendly faces or familiarity in sight.

If you would accept, and I understand how hard it is that you trust the wife of the man that has made an enemy of your husband, I do not see why you and I can not be on good terms. I know that no place can replace your home, your true home, nor Lord Edmure's, but if I may speak freely neither I -nor Jaime if I am correct, want you to feel as prisoners.
Casterly Rock is, as you can see, a very large place. And we are the only two families living in it. Would it not make sense to have a friendly face around? If not, I would completely understand if you would like to retain your freedom in a different wing of the castle that is farther away so you would not have to happen upon us. It was only by coincidence that I happened upon the sound of you and your babe whilst I was examining the south garden, Brynden is it? He is so lovely, even from afar.

Do not be afraid or embarrassed to be honest or refuse me, it is perfectly within your right to do so. And I apologise if you feel like I have put you in an uncomfortable position, I just thought it was worth the effort."

Lifting her eyes from the page, she looked upon the woman that was claiming to be her friend. Or at least offering. Her eyes seemed tired, and her posture was relaxed. She looked upon Roslin with understand and a glimmer of hope that Roslin had all too much seen erased from her own time and time again. Without much care to herself Roslin began speaking without heading her brain first,

"The gods wouldn't hear my prayers. I prayed it would be a girl, day and night." She started, and Lady Lorraine's expression of hope contorted into one of confusion.

"If it was a girl, no one would want to hurt her. She'd be safe. Even though they had told me that The Kingsla-" She faltered before correcting herself briefly, and the Lady herself urged her to continue.

"Even though they had told me that Lord Jaime said we would not be harmed and that we would get to be with Edmure again, I was still so scared. But then I held the baby in my arms and I felt so happy, it was so strange. It made me think, did every woman my father put a child in feel this way? I didn't want to let him go. I didn't want to let him go so much that leaving everything else behind didn't matter at all. I love him so much that the thought of little Bynden safe made me hate Riverrun." She looked back at Lorraine then, a tear stinging her eye.

"When I lived in The Twins, I hated it. My sisters were awful to me. My father cared not for any of us. It was always crowded, and loud. My time in Riverrun was not one I am too fond of recalling either. They took my harp away and I had little to no comfort. I had no one, not even an enemy's wife to confide in. In Casterly Rock, I can not pretend it was not been difficult seeing my husband in such a state of sadness, but Casterly Rock is safe. The sound of the waves soothes my child to sleep and the air is warm and I can move from balcony to balcony and bathe in sunlight." Her eyes had become engaged with a sense of excitement over her ramblings and she stopped slightly to lick her lips, taking a moment to lock understanding in her hostess's eyes.

"Living by the sea is not at all like living by a river."

And just like that, it was like Lady Lorraine had had her answer. She nodded discretely, and moved to the chalice to pour the young girl some water. After eyeing Roslin carefully, the Lady moved her hands up slightly, venturing to motion something to her and hoping she would understand.

"Harp"

"Harp" Roslin repeated in more of a question.

"You like the harp?"

"Do I like the harp?" She asked once more, hoping her lucky streak would not end there. Lady Lannister nodded eagerly to her then and Roslin gave a toothy smile of pride in return,

"Yes, my Lady, I like the harp very much."

Jaime

Training and taming the horses had afforded him with some reprieve from all the day's happenings. All this madness had only just occurred the previous night but to Jaime it felt like time was passing by all too slow.

He had made his apology, and somehow felt proud it had gotten him somewhere with Lorraine. He had been prepared to be rebuffed and pushed away, to be lashed out at and it going nowhere really -as he had been used to with Cersei. But what he was continuously being reminded of every passing day was that Lorraine was not at all like Cersei. In fact, she may just be the farthest thing from her.

He had been "forgiven" -for now. Even then, he tried to forget how she had felt uncomfortable at his touch and though he had felt good about discussing the issue with her and clearing the air, matters were still not as clear as they could have been with them. Would she still sleep in my bed? He thought, or would the night she spent in that other room be the first of many? He almost sneered at the very thought of a suddenly empty bed after he had gotten used to the strange warmth she brought with her.

She still blushed at his mentioning of having her, surely she must think him a fool for being so affected by one thing. Did it even matter to her? He wondered if it truly did, whether it even made a difference to her if he touched her at night when the light was low and her skin moist.

She had been so...receptive to him before. Always returning his kisses and venturing for her own. Grabbing at his shoulders, sifting through his hair, cupping his cheek whenever she saw fit to do so. He recalled the way she would subconsciously press her body to him, was that all of no consequence to her? How could it? He asked, How could it not matter to you so when you had sighed at my touch? When you had rolled your hips back to meet mine? When I felt you clenching when I was inside you? It was a kind of ecstasy he had had a taste of from her and the idea of it being so frivolous to her was not one that gave him much solace. She enjoyed him, she must have. She must have wanted him -for he could not get the image of her eyes in the candlelight, so hooded with lust and so aroused by the wonder of those unexplored sensations.

But even with her more or less obvious enjoyment and reaction to that one night, Jaime knew that she had not known pleasure. Not true pleasure. He had taken his knowing full well that she would not have hers, telling himself all the while he had plenty of time to make sure she did. Plenty of days to spend with her body splayed across his and his hand entwined in her hair.

It was a foreign sensation to Jaime, a foreign want to give someone pleasure purely for the experience of doing so. Cersei had always known herself, had always known what she wanted. There was nothing new to do, no new length to explore -nothing but the thrill of the forbidden. Looking back on all of that now, he wondered whether pleasure was something his sister was even capable of feeling. He had surely, almost immediately, stopped searching for hers. But it was something he wanted to give Lorraine. He wanted to see her squirm and convulse, to see if she could squirm and convulse under his touch.

But how could he do that without her thinking it was all for him? How could he do that without her thinking he was taking something from her, more than he already has, in the process?

He walked up the many stairs and through the many halls to their chambers. He was still sting with the dirt of the day, the airy smell of the outside, and he somehow relished it -he was not made for lounging around his castle all day. It was almost dusk, still too early for dinner, but surely not too early for some wine.

The door to their chambers opened with a click and was greeted with the sight of Lorraine sitting on the sofa, sewing something into what appeared to be one of his tunics.

He could not help but compare that they stood now almost just as they did last night. But last night he had stood at this door as a monster, and now he stood repentant. Isn't it strange? I have murdered men without a second thought, how is it I am able to feel such guilt towards her only? Jaime thought to himself then that he probably knew the answer to his own question, but wished he did not.

Just as he had entered the room his wife looked up tentatively from her sewing, pricking her finger in the process. Her face contorted in the shocked pain and Jaime swiftly made his way to her side and sat by her on the sofa as she carefully sucked on the pierced flesh of her finger. She waved him off then, smiling softly but still not fully meeting his eyes and carefully inspected the shirt in her hands, hoping it had not been stained by her clumsiness. Sufficiently satisfied at her thorough inspection, she handed him the flimsy sheet of weaved cotton with a triumphant smile upon her, and Jaime could not help but return it as he took the tunic in slight confusion. Looking down upon it now, he understood what she had done and why she was proud of it. She had sown on to one of his plainest tunics a luxurious crest of his house, lining the golden threads that made of the fighting lions in a bright scarlet, almost bringing them to life.

"You made this?" She nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

"I did not know my wife was such a seamstress." And unknowingly almost, she giggled at his joke, the realisation that she had forgotten all that happened the previous day and night dawning upon her quickly.

Jaime knew almost as soon as he had met Lorraine that she was the kind of woman to quickly forget a wrong, but force herself to remember in some twisted way to honour herself.

Now realising that they were indeed not sat apart at any icy distance, he venture to bring his hand to her knees gently, trying not to bring with it the crude implication it usually had.

"Thank you. It is far too good for me" He hoped she knew what he had meant. But Lorraine, still unsure of his touch, got up slowly in a way to try and not cause Jaime any offense.

"You're welcome" She gestured quickly before turning away and making her way to her room, their room.

Listening to the sound of her shoes clicking, Jaime felt himself get up and follow her into their bedroom, finding the door open -finding relief that it had not been locked. She stood slightly solemnly by the window sill, her back fully facing Jaime. He had to remind himself that Lorraine had never seen the sea before, strange as it is I can imagine here with ease with her feet in the water. It would only be natural for her to marvel at a sight he had been long used to, but Jaime could not help but notice a strange stillness to her stance and it gave him the idea that perhaps she was not looking out in wonder, but perhaps in search of some sort of peace or understanding.

He approached her carefully, hoping his steps would not pull her out of her gloomy haze so he could observe her still. But once he had reached her side her head then twisted to him and she gave him a consolatory smile, one he could tell was laced with a sadness he could not describe. He reached for her cheek, and she closed her eyes briefly as she trembled and then relished in the contact but turned away after that brief moment of weakness.

Now finally resolved in his next course of action, Jaime remained persistent. Somehow, he knew that if he would leave her to her own devices he would have no chance in regaining the potential of what he had so carelessly thrown away. He cupped her cheeks with his hands and turned her to face him fully as the setting sun's rays danced across her face. He could see every bump and blemish on her face, every dot, pigmentation and hair was no his to look at. He could see the reluctance in her eyes, the fear of handing herself over so easily, but her stubborn nature would not let her look away -and so he delved into her dark orbs hoping to be lost in them. He knew that now was the time to say something.

"I want to show you something. Will you let me?" It came out far more strained than he had wanted it to, but he kept himself silent awaiting her response.

They stood there for a long moment, her face held tightly in his hands and their eyes locked on one another, and eventually, Lorraine nodded her acceptance.

He moved his cool gold hand down her neck slowly, and she shivered. Soon both of his hands had slid down to her own and still looking straight into her, he moved backwards and led her to their bed.

Her eyes now held a slight alarm to them as she registered their destination and he could feel her form stiffen slightly as she hesitated in moving forward with him. Adamant in allowing this to play out, Jaime encourage her forward with a hand to her back and waited until she had sat down, albeit with her back painfully straight, to reassure her,

"You have nothing to fear" He whispered, and he knelt down so both his knees were now on the ground to look at her and hope that she would find truth to his words through his own eyes.

Her back sagged slightly, but Jaime knew Lorraine well enough to know she did not like what was unknown to her -it made her nervous. But he was determined to continue on the course of action he had set for himself, as he always had, and face the consequences later.

Still knelt on the ground, Jaime shuffled through the lower skirts of his wife's gown in search of her feet. Once he had placed his hand gently around one ankle, he gently pulled her foot from her ankle out of the slipper she had been wearing, and proceeded with the next one. He made a conscious decision not to look at Lorraine as he did so, for a part of him did not know what he would do if he saw fear in them once again.

Finally done with both of her shoes, he stood once again. And still avoiding her stare he bent his back down and leaned down to her level, resting his weight on his hands at either side of her.

"May I kiss you?"

He could hear her heart now and they way her breath hitched at his question. This is it, he said to himself, this is it where it I start. Finally bracing himself to look back at her and receive her answer he was surprised to be met by the curled darkness in her features. Her breath was hot, everything about her exuded hotness, and he realised in himself some desperate urge for her to accept -not only so they may move forward tonight, but as a sign that they move forward from every night onwards.

Instead of nodding, Lorraine arched her neck upwards so her lips were perfectly angled to meet his, and he gulped down as he leaned to kiss her -hoping he had not misinterpreted.

It was gentle regardless of his desperation. His lips danced on hers, and savoured the sensation of her soft lips as she moved to caress hers across his own, teasing him further. But despite the urge, the want and the tease he did not push the kiss further -only getting enough to taste her and giving enough for her to become sufficiently reacquainted.

He pulled away gently, hoping not to rouse too much suspicion as she reopened her eyes to face him. Her eyes were somehow darker than they usually were, and he recognised something in them, something primal but yet too scared to admit it.

"Do I have your permission to proceed?" Gods, he did not want to ruin the moment with the technicalities of consent, but he felt like it was necessary for him especially to know whether he may proceed -mostly out of fear of the sting of rejection.

Taking no time to think, Lorraine nodded, her curiosity now piqued. Moving closer to her, Jaime wrapped his hand around her back and pushed her farther down the bed as he balanced himself on top of her. Placing a delicate kiss to her lips and planning to place another on her neck, he was surprised that she trapped is lips in yet another kiss, using her tongue to coax out a more fervent response to her own efforts. He indulged her so, gently nibbling at her bottom lip and she opened her mouth further to him. He reached for her skirts then, bringing them slowly up her legs and she continued to lose herself in the kiss. Once her skirts had reached her thighs he pulled away from her lips finally, stroking the skin on her the inside of her thigh as he grazed her neck with his teeth. He brought himself back up again to look at her passion stung lips and her half-opened mouth.

He did not know what she was expecting to happen, but Jaime was quite sure that she had not expected to see him move down her body until his face had almost come in contact with her own thighs.

Knowing that he did not want to explain to her exactly what he wished to do next, he decided it was best she lose herself in pleasure. He kissed her soft thigh, licking and biting softly until her cocked up head and returned back to the bed and he could feel her body moving in a natural response. Distracting her with his ministrations he moved his hand farther up her thighs and then pulled down her small clothes, removing himself from her skin for only a second as he moved to discard it. She looked up at him once again, her cheeks red and eyes wide in befuddlement. Before she could ask what he was doing, he pulled her skirts up all the way and placed his hot mouth on her deliciously wet sex.

Lorraine's hands moved quickly to his head to push it away from the most private and unexplored part of her, but to Jaime's pleasure her hands quickly went from trying to push him away to digging into his hair in arousal.

He could hear her mouth now open and a small moan escaped it as Jaime darted his tongue into her, savouring the sweetness of something he wished he could taste day and night. He snaked his good hand up her body to cup her breast and he squeezed to mirror the pressure he had applied to her sensitive bud. She sighed out audibly at the sudden sensation and Jaime had to hold her down to stop her from moving away so he may continue. He wanted to give her pleasure, he wanted her to know there was pleasure to be had.

Her fingers combed roughly through his hair, urging him to pick up the pace. He used his tongue to dart, lick, stroke and press upon every area he noticed her display a reaction to and before long he could all but smell the desperation in her for something she did not yet know she could have, release. Despite her now near frantic movements, Jaime remained gentle and refrained from allowing any roughness in his touches. He massaged her breasts steadily as he moved his mouth back up to the sensitive bud he was sure Lorraine had yet to know could give her what she needed. Creating a sort of vacuum around the sensitive area Jaime sucked at it, simultaneously darting his tongue on it and he could feel Lorraine's hands press his head closer to her delicious warmth as her body convulsed out as it heightened to meet her climax. Her moans only grew loader, and her sighs had more shape to them as she neared her end, breathing out to meet every stroke of the tongue and every flick to her bud. Jaime was unrelenting, not stopping to even breathe until he had known she had taken her pleasure. Positioning his mouth at a higher angle he kept up the pressure once more and she cried out high pitched and desperate "oh's" and "ah's" and then she let out a strangled sigh,

"Yes" she said, and all at once she unraveled and Jaime could feel her cunt convulse under his mouth, her opening pulsing as he savoured in her climax dripping down her thigh. He licked her thigh gently, aroused at the sight of her so shattered and the sound of her voice reacting to his expertise.

He plopped down on the bed beside her as she caught her breath, and then and there Jaime Lannister decided he would taste his wife every night until she would have him again. And he had to admit to himself that a large part of that was for him to hear say something in ecstasy.

I truly am shameless, aren't I? He thought to himself with a smirk resting on his satiated face knowing Lorraine's arousal still shone at the edges of his mouth.

Lorraine

It was safe to say I had never felt anything like what my husband had done to me.

All of the apprehension I had felt at his strange approach to my lower body dissipated when his mouth touched my wetness, and I was suddenly in a world that was not my own. It felt like everything around me, including myself, was on fire, and a particular spot in my nether regions burned with a sensation I had never before known.

But it was the ending, my ending, that shocked me the most. I was no longer even in control of my own hands, nor was I in control of my mind or voice. Sounds and words slipped out of me as I trembled in pleasure beneath my husband's wicked touch, and scorching brightness was the only thing I could see as I encountered the highest of heights I could have ever reached.

I feel like that is what Jaime thrived on the most, my inability to control anything when in that state. He proved me powerless and completely at his mercy, whimpering whenever his mouth or fingers came in contact with my mound.

And he did not want anything in exchange for the mountainous pleasure he had pushed me into. We did not discuss it, why he was not taking his rights when I was so obviously allowing him to touch me in wicked ways, but I got the impression that he wanted me to approach him when I was ready. And I was glad for that, for although I could easily give in to him like this, letting him inside me once more now came with a kind of intimacy I was still not so ready for. But he did not seem to mind so terribly for the moment now and after what had happened I knew in my heart that Jaime would never try to force it on me again. And for the most part, I could not argue with the current arrangement. Night after night he lay me down and took me to my end and back again, and after it was over he would hold me to him and I would fall asleep. It is hardly inconvenient for me.

One night, I recall, he played with my budding nipple as he kissed me down there, and my back arched out as I felt his touch to my nipple down in my core and somehow my mouth said yes to him once more. He would have nearly stopped if I had not held his head back down.

The night after that, he introduced his finger into the equation, sliding it in to my folds and then pressing it into me, creating an excruciatingly delicious rhythm as he penetrated me with his fingers and drove me to insanity with his tongue. I don't even remember what I said to that, for the pleasure was far too much to bear and I climaxed immediately afterwards, staying in a pleasured haze as I watched my husband lick my slickness off his fingers.

We did not speak of it -the fact that I had spoken. Surely he knew it was all involuntary, but a part of me hoped it was not in his expectations that I speak. A part of me hoped that he did not enjoy it, hearing me speak, for I have come to not only forgive but to grow extremely fond of my husband -and I have no wish to disappoint him.

That's all for now! Expect the next chapter to be out within the next week.