A/N: Hey all! Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter and sorry for the long delay!
I realised that I accidentally forgot to copy paste something (or may have accidentally deleted something) from my last chapter so i'd advise you to go back and read the ending because there was a part missing (so sorry!).
I'm afraid that updates will probably be a week/8 days apart from now on cause my class load has tripled! I hope the story (or the quality of my writing) does not suffer too much for it!
In a stroke of genius or insanity I came up with an idea for a new story (also ASOIAF) and in my excitement spent a lot of times giving it thought, but then I realised I probably shouldn't start writing anything else whilst i'm still writing this. As far as what i'm planning for this, I can assure it DOES have an ending, and i'm planning for it not to exceed 60 chapters in total.

I would like to thank reviewer (and recent follower) Quindecim : Your words literally woke me up and got me writing, welcome and I hope you enjoy!


Roslin

Roslin smiled at the sight before her. Brynden was in Lorraine's hands, held up slightly so the sun was smiling at him crookedly and gurgling merrily at Lorraine's funny faces. She could not help the giggle that escaped her.

She had, admittedly, been on the more solemn side of things since hearing news of their departure. A part of her hoped that despite Edmure's suspicions he would at least find a freedom in King's Landing he had never felt at Casterly Rock, but a larger part of her still felt the jilted injustice of being torn from the kindred spirit she had so longed for.

Roslin had a husband, he loved her to what she believed was a great deal. He was charming, had done everything in his power to ensure her safety, cared deep for her and inspired passion in her when they were alone at night. Roslin also had a child, a son. Her son would quiet down in her arms only, would wrap his hand around her little finger, would make her feel wanted and needed in ways she had never thought she could possibly want. Roslin had had many sisters, many brothers, many step-mothers, many servants, but she had never had a friend until she met Lorraine Lannister. She often pondered if it was some cruel joke from the Gods, to give her everything while also condemning her in every way. She had, for most of her life, been a victim to circumstance. But she had finally met someone that did not see her as unfortunate for being Walder Frey's daughter -and that same person was to part with her soon.

Was she crazy for growing so attached? Perhaps. It was only natural; Lorraine was kind -something not many had been to Roslin over the years, and she inspired strength in her. Now, Roslin would be thrown in the snake pit with not even an ally by her side, would she succumb to the loneliness now that she had tasted earnest friendship?

Resuming her thoughts to the commotion at her side she noticed that Lorraine had shifted positions by lying on the grass with Brynden lying on top of her, lightly fighting his way up.

"Are you sure that's comfortable?" She asked, and Lorraine only responded by looking at her then back at Brynden as she made a face that indicated nothing less than contentment.

The South Garden was one of her favourite places now, it was where she and Lorraine spent most of their time since Lorraine had taken it upon herself to fix it up -to which Roslin had to admit was excellently done. She had felt guilty for sitting idly by as Lorraine had relentlessly weeded out and dug holes in the garden, but as they lay here in the splendor of the grass rolling in the fruits of her efforts, Roslin felt like it hardly mattered.

"Did you not say Marla would be joining us?" She tried not too look as curious as she did.

Marla was only her half sister, and in truth her and Roslin had not ever had much to say to one another when they lived at The Twins. But still, Roslin always thought she could see herself in that particular sister, and they were afterall kin, it was strange that she had not even a peep of her since her arrival. Perhaps she was too shy to approach knowing she was a guest and Roslin was a hostage -even though Lorraine made it sound like it was the opposite way around.

"I asked. She's shy"

"Yes, I suppose she is." Her curiosity glimmered through her once more and she could not help but satisfy the nagging urge to ask about details Lorraine had not yet mentioned.

"Does she.." she started as she adjusted herself to sit on her feet, and in response Lorraine sat back up with Brynden now in her lap.

"Does Marla seem at all happy with her new husband?"

As her friend offered her a knowing look, Roslin quickly chose to rephrase.

"I..I was not assuming anything my Lady. I just umm..I wish to know how she fairs. We were not always the closest of sisters but i'm sure you understand that, as kin, I merely-" her mouth was stunned shut when Lorraine handed her the notepad she had been scribbling in as she had been rambling on,

"There is no shame in being curious." She smiled at her gratefully and decided to continue with transparency.

"Is she miserable?"

"I think it best she answer that herself" Quickly remembering herself Roslin brought her hand to her lips swiftly,

"Have I over-stepped my Lady?" She was awarded with a loud laugh escaping her fast friend,

"Not at all. I merely believe I am unequipped to answer that question." She wrote to her and Roslin could only sigh out in relief and frustration. Surely one would think it strange that two sisters could be under the same roof -albeit a remarkably large one, and not see each other. As she looked away somberly she felt Lorraine's reassuring warm hand on hers and turned her head back at her to find her calming disposition and a note in little Brynden's hand,

"Fear not, before you are set to leave I will make sure you are properly reunited."

Roslin was not sure how to feel, grateful was definitely part of it. She wondered why someone would go out of their way for her, no one besides Edmure ever had before. His voice in her head rung through, telling her to not be so trusting and naïve, but the overwhelming warmth she felt blossom through her pushed it all aside. This lady had done near everything to make Roslin feel welcome. She gave me a harp. All the emotions swarming through her could only result in a simple smile.

"I will miss you in the Capital. I would ask you to visit, but i'm not as silly as I used to be. Write to me?"

Her friend nodded affirmatively, and they both returned their gaze to the Sunset Sea wallowing in the final glow of the sun. In truth, Roslin felt slightly guilty that she would look back on her time at Casterly Rock fairly fondly whilst her husband would remember it, or possible everything thereafter, with disgust.

Just as her mind had settled on how comfortable Lorraine looked with a child in her hands, and how she fondly wished for the Gods to bless her with one for herself, she noticed a flash of ginger fur followed by a spotted flash and her eyes chased the sight, as did Lorraine's.

"Was that Amber?" She inquired, and Lorraine sighed out in exasperation.

"New cat."

"A strange cat. You best make sure her new friend is not such a bad influence!"

"Just as you are to me?"

And as their laughter breezed through the air, accompanied by the babe's happy gurgles, Roslin prayed for a fraction of that happiness to follow them, and silently composed a song for her beloved friend on her harp. A song of smiles for you, Lorraine, a song for all the smiles you have given us.


Lorraine

Walking down the long halls once again on my way to meet Jaime in his study, I tried not to allow the dark walls to bring out the solemness tugging at my chest.

I had known the day would come, of course. I knew since before I had ever even laid eyes on Roslin Tully that she was not a permanent guest at Casterly Rock. And so it was my own grief to bare, only me to blame, for any resulting sadness I may feel at her leaving. I had approached her, I had asked for her friendship. In the most unlikely way, I had built a stronghold of affection that I felt was irreplaceable to me at the moment. But, like all good things, they must come to an end. And I sincerely hoped that it would make way for even better things to come her way in near future.

I was not stupid, of course. Part of my worry of parting with Roslin stemmed from the fact that she would not have any protection whatsoever in King's Landing aside from what my husband had promised in exchange for her husband's cooperation. I had never met Edmure Tully, and I was not sure I would get the chance to before he left, but I had the strange feeling that he was not a man who so quietly accepted defeat and extortion. That is not saying that Roslin had anything to do with that impression, for she always grew tight-lipped when her husband came up in conversation and I quickly learned to avoid the subject altogether so she would not feel like there was a conflict of interest or doubt my intentions.

What worried me almost as much as the safety of Roslin and her babe was the fact that she would have no companion. Roslin would more likely revert to the sweet and silent girl I had found her, unwilling to have any sort of opinion or express herself. Would she not laugh in King's Landing? I could not stand the idea of that. Perhaps I could write to Duncan, and he could ensure her safety for me. Perhaps, if permitted, Duncan could also keep Roslin company -or suggest a fine lady who could.

As I reached my husband's study I reached into my notebook to write in a reminder to write to Duncan regarding the matter occupying my mind. As I mechanically made my note the door opened from the inside and I was now faced with my husband's cousin, Daven.

"Ah, my Lady. So good to see you! I would ask you to accompany me for a walk but I see you've come here with purpose." I nodded affirmatively and feigned disappointment.

It was not such a lie, I had wished to spent a little more time with Daven since our last dinner. Perhaps I should schedule a game of chess with him and his wife, two birds with one stone.

"That is not to say I do not have my own wife to attend to, my Lady. I must take your leave. I'll see you at supper I hope."

"See you then."

And he was on his way.

Feeling aversely relieved from that certain exchange I calmly strolled into my husband's office to once again find he had not been alone. A tall, stoic figure stood ahead of my husband's heavy desk clad in black armor. I knew it could not have been any of the castle guards just by the figure's outline, so the question stood -who was he?

Jaime then stood, allowing my eyes to ween of the strange figure -who had not even turned at my entrance,

"You're here." He said, and it sounded like he was exhaling in some sort of relief as he approached me, moving to grasp my hand in the process. It wasn't until then that I realised that I had stood completely still since entering and registering the foreign company at hand.

"Who's that?" I signaled to Jaime knowing it would go unnoticed by the object in question.

Jaime raised his eyebrows as if he had just now remembered that his visitor was in fact still in the vicinity.

"Right."

He turned swiftly so that he was still grasping my hand but facing the stranger's back. I thought he resembled a draw bridge then. How funny, I should tell him so. Perhaps later.

"Ser," And almost at Jaime's command the figure turned to face me, and it was almost as if his being so unremarkable took me by surprise. I don't know what I had expected, but his stoic disposition and his silence gave me an impression of strangeness. For some reason I had thought I would be faced with some sort of warlock with black lips and pale eyes -how silly! Instead I was met with what many would call a plain man -but I have always lived with the belief that no one could ever be plain.

He had a pale face, his lips were thin, his shoulders were broad and his back was impeccably straight. Everything about him on the surface would suggest hardness, but there was something else. Something in the way he clasped his hands so firmly at his front and averted his gaze from my eyes directly suggested that a rock-hard shell was not all there was to him, to this stranger.

"This is your new Lady, Ser. Lorraine, this is Ser Benedict Broom, Casterly's Rock newly returned master-at-arms."

Benedict Broom. What a lovely name. The man -Benedict, nodded to me briskly then,

"An honor to make your acquaintance, my Lady." He still would not look at me directly, and I found myself staring at his hands. I extended my hand then, awaiting him to shake it if he would, and I was taken by surprise once more at the queer softness of his fingers. I had never met a knight with such soft hands.

Benedict Broom, however, looked positively mortified at the contact and so I decided to withdraw promptly, sensing that it was not at all his preference. Interrupting my silent investigation of our new head of staff came Jaime's voice once more -how strange that my silent knight is now the only one filling the room?

"I was just speaking to Ser Benedict about you," I looked at my husband with easy suspicion,

"Where you?"

The smile growing on his face did not make me feel too well. It had mischief written all over it.

"Yes, matter of fact, i've decided to assign him as your sworn shield." I did not want Ser Benedict to think me a ridiculous woman, but I could not stop the widening of my eyes and the drop of my jaw at Jaime's statement.

My eyes hardened on Jaime's and I tried to somehow give him a glimpse of what I was really thinking without offending Ser Benedict. How could I describe glaring at my husband as if to say "What in the world would I need a sworn shield for? Why have you done this? Why didn't you tell me? You could not have asked? What farce are you running?".

I was caught off guard once more by Ser Benedict who rose his voice to speak,

"I would be honored to serve you, my Lady." I hoped he did not consider me too rude as I shook my head at him incessantly and laughed nervously at his statement, somehow trying to desperately write this off as some sort of joke or misunderstanding.

My frantic attempts at alluding the situation were stopped by my dear husband's hands on my shoulder accompanied by his own very fake laughter. He forced a sincere smile to Ser Benedict,

"As i'm sure my wife is also proud to have you at her service. Now that we've got that covered I'd like a moment alone with the Lady, you may leave"

"As you wish, my Lord. Good day."

"Good day."

As soon as the door clicked behind the tall knight I forced myself out of Jaime's grasp with a war in my mind,

"Have you gone mad?"


Jaime

Jaime stood in his large study, and it seemed like there would never be enough room to hide from his wife's obvious anger.

Once again, Lorraine was fuming at him. But he had a reasonable explanation for it all this time.

He put his palms out towards her in a calming surrender and hoped it would at least marginally sooth her temper. And he was only marginally correct in his assumption.

"Won't you sit down?"

"No." He understood from the shake of her head and her feet remained firmly pressed to the floor in defiance.

"Please?"

And still her head shook and he sighed out loud. What in the world am I to do with you, woman?

"There was been word from the Ironborn." And just like that, the Lorraine's fuming anger that had so filled the room went silent and there was nothing but her blank eyes staring back into his, waiting.

"Perhaps I should have led with that." He quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

"What have you heard? What has happened?" He found his hands once again snaking their way to her shoulders, perhaps to provide them both with some comfort.

"Be still. Don't worry so much. Sit down." And this time, she listened.

He almost felt nervous. How was he to phrase it all? It had all come in one quick wave and he could not afford to put off telling her especially with all the upcoming events, there would not be enough time to avoid the situation.

"I've received word from the Riverlands informing me that there's been a host of Ironborn scum seen around Oldstones. It's...farther south than I thought they were."

Why isn't she moving? Should I keep standing? Should I sit next to her? He decided perhaps she would receive the coming news better with comfort, so he sat himself down on the chair beside her -but he still could not look at her.

"It wouldn't be fair of me to ask you not to worry, but I need you to trust that I won't let anything happen to you, or us." At that she gave him a sharp turn,

"Is that why that man is here?" Pace yourself, he thought, I am not done giving you the news.

"That man is here for your protection, Lorraine."

It struck him a little, but still far more than he thought it would. He almost expected her to spit it in his face, "you were supposed to protect me". Knowing that he was not the one who could protect Lorraine the way she would need did not sit well with him. He looked down at his Golden Hand, what good is this gold if I can not use it to protect the one I love?

And at that it all came crashing down on him. He could not even focus on Lorraine's shallow breaths and what she was trying to say to him, his own breathing had become shallow at the realisation. Had his wife finally fallen prey to the precious circle of people Jaime called his loved ones? He hardly thought it was possible, he did not even know if that was something he could even be capable of. Love is a farce, he told himself. He used to tell himself that there was no love anyone could feel as pure as the love he felt to who's blood was his own. You are mistaken, and he reminded himself that it would not be the first time he was so. But still, it begged the question, if not love -then what was it he was feeling towards his wife? What made him wrap his arms around her carelessly in the mornings? What drove him to watch her as she made her personal notes? What was the force pulling him to her regardless of the outlook, weather or circumstance? What in the Seven Hells could it be? He pushed the thought aside and welcomed Lorraine's furious waves for his attention again,

"I'm sorry, what was that?" For some reason Lorraine seemed taken aback by his brief moment of reprieve. He always listened, and the subject matter at hand was far from boring or irrelevant.

But nevertheless, she repeated herself with peculiar patience,

"I do not need protection" He laughed. Sure, it was not the venomous insult he had expected anyone to have spewed at him but still, it was laughable.

"With all due respect my dear I do not think Amber's claws are sharp enough to be considered as real protection."

"I can protect myself. And I have you." Her sentiment warmed him, even though he knew he had to crush it.

"That's not all, my dear." His hand moved on its own accord, stroking her cheek the way he usually did when they were alone, when she was his.

Once again, he recalled his conversation with Daven. There was so much they had gone over, and so much they needed to go over still. If there was anything he could commend about Daven outside his dominance in battle it was that he was upfront. Jaime had never had much mind for social niceties -he could say he had had his fill of it after all that time in King's Landing, so Daven's forthrightness was refreshing. That was, if there was anything refreshing about the topics of discussion between them. After Daven had suggested calling in the crown's debts the idea stirred within Jaime and he had eventually grown a little more reciprocal to the notion. But among the chaos of chasing the crown for coin a solid solution for funding a shut-down against the Ironborn had yet to be found.

"Sources around the Banefort, not completely reliable ones might I add, have sent word of a ship coming out of Pyke, heading south."

Once again alarm reigned through his little wife and he had to physically stop her from shooting up from her seat and pacing around in worry.

"Listen, listen to me. We can't be sure, and we can not afford to stir up unneeded panic-"

"But my sister!"

"I know, I know. Defenses are being called up as we speak for both bare spots of endangerment. And I promise we'll bring your sister here as soon as we find out the truth about the ship. If it's true you have my word you and your sister will be safe. You have my word. You have my word, Lorraine." He kept repeating his promise over and over again it would mean something, somehow trying to calm her racing heart.

His wife, his woman, leaned over to him and held him closely to her, clutching at the very threads of his clothing to keep him close. It was not long before he felt dampness at his shoulder. He tried to move her away to look upon her, to somehow reassure her, but she resisted and kept him close. Stroking her hair, he did what he could do to stop the sound that seemed to rip at his chest.

"Hush now. I promise, I promise the borders will be heavily guarded. I promise the voyagers will do all they can do to seek information about any thing coming our way, be it a seagull. I promise Ser Benedict will protect you. I promise that if it comes to it you and your sister will all be safe." But it was no use, she kept slowly sobbing in his arms.

"I know you're worried about Elaine, but I promise you will have no reason to. She will be with you if there is any slight sign of danger approaching. And there is not a chance in all the Seven Hells I would ever let any harm come to you. Do you understand me?" He finally succeeded in pulling her far enough away to look upon her, to make sure she had understood all he was saying. To make sure she knew just what her safety meant to him.

But she would not let him have it, and instead kept her hands over her face -now only slightly sobbing in sparse shudders of breath here and there. He watched her with his hands drawing soothing circles on her wrist until she had calmed enough.

He reached to her hands once more and moved to uncover her face. This was it, he thought. This is when he would look her in the eyes and suffer the consequences to his decision.

"I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you sa-"

"Not just me. I want you safe too. More than anything" Another stray tear fell, and Jaime knew she was not making it easy for him. He could only find strength in repetition.

"I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe...even when i'm not there."

Incredulous, as always, Lorraine looked at him with horrified suspicion.

"What are you saying?"

"I must leave soon after Daven, to gather the soldiers and head for the defenses."

"Why?!" Her desperation was apparent, her worry over-flowing out of her silent words.

"These are my bannermen, Lorraine, I can't order them to fight what is to them a still unnecessary war for me while I sit here!"

"You can't fight! You can't go to battle! I won't let you!" She was frantic now, almost jumping out of her chair for air.

"But I can lead!

It's necessary, Lorraine. That's why Ser Benedict is here and he will continue to be here for you until I can-" And before he knew it she was on him once again but this time her crying went completely uninhibited and Jaime could almost hate himself for it.

It was often enough that he would hear the sound of Lorraine's voice nowadays. He would hear her laugh, hear her grunt and groan as she worked and walked, hear her coo at Amber whenever she was in their room. He would hear her moan out in pleasure whenever he had her to himself, he would hear her release sighs of ecstasy by his mere touch. He cherished every sound he heard from her. But he could not bring himself to relish in the sound of her voice as she sobbed wildly into him -because of him.

He gripped her tightly and brought her fully on his lap, cradling her like she often cradled Amber and rocked her back and forth.

You are young still, he thought to himself as he looked upon Lorraine, now silent and drawing the same circles on him -though he had the sneaking suspicion they were to calm her more than him. So young and soft and unmarred by the tribulations of war. My heart -if I had one, sings to you. I hope you hear it.

"Look at me," and gently, she did.

"I can not ask you not to worry. I just need you to know -you must know, you will not lose me. Is that understood, my little wife?"

She smiled. It was little, but to Jaime it felt like she had not smiled at him for years. Her lips were the sun, the curve in her cheek its rays.

Somehow, in some twisted way, they had managed to recompose themselves and stood facing one another obeying the silent order to leave the room that was now racked with so much emotion. It was definitely not an ideal place to leave their conversation, but Jaime could daresay it was a better outcome than he had hoped to have in the past.

Lorraine was full of flaws, he knew, but those flaws would never consist of malice -at least not to those she was fond of. And Jaime often hoped he was one of them -though he could more or less confirm it. He knew that whatever aggression she was feeling now or might feel in the coming days would be a reflection of her worry and grief. He tried to understand that she was feeling loss and anxiety and fear all at once but he could not help but feel slightly offended that she did not think he felt the same -or possibly even worse. Did she think he relished the thought of leaving her? Especially with unknown threats approaching? Did she think that he was choosing to leave to chase some awaited glory instead of lay in her arms all afternoon? Did she think having her out of his sight would bring him anything other than a suffocating sense of loss?

Nevertheless, he stayed mindful as he walked with her. Strange enough, she was the one leading him -he barely registered where they were even going until the reached the Conservatory and he found a set table waiting.

Awkwardly, he remembered that she was having her lunch with Marla today, and realised that his presence at that moment was not required.

A little shocked and a little impressed at how easily Lorraine looked unaffected by the emotional encounter they had just had, Jaime finally found it in him to break the silence once more.

"I suppose...I will leave you here."

She nodded. All she did was nod. And he leaned down to kiss her.

"I will see you in our rooms later?"

"Yes"

And with nothing further, Jaime walked out of the room his wife was in.

He walked the halls in silence, which was surprising since he could usually hear the faint pitter-patter of some servant's feet at any given time. But for some reason, today of all days, it was silent. It was not all too welcome to him, so instead he filled his thoughts with logistics and the details of their moves forward -and before he knew it he was fast approaching the main part of the castle, and the rustle and bustle and resumed.

A fortnight after Daven leaves the troops will have assembled. I'll leave then. I'll have to speak to Daemon in case Lorraine's sister comes. What of Ashemark? Should I send them there if it gets too dangerous? Or is it not far enough away? He was thinking to himself in silent ferocity before a rattled messenger approached him lead by Daemon himself.

"My Lord, there's been a message-" Jaime, as always, paid it very little mind.

"Yes, i'm a little preoccupied so i'll have to ask you to have it delivered to my study."

"If you would not mind my Lord, it has come with instructions that you receive it personally, it's been said to be of grave importance-"

"Everything is of grave importance Daemon, I am Lord of Casterly Rock"

"Yes, yes, I know my Lord it's just tha-"

"It's from Meereen, M'Lord." And just like that, Daemon stopped existing to Jaime.

Meereen? He pondered, who would write to me from Meereen? What business do they have writing me from Meereen?

"Who is it from?"

"I've been instructed not to say M'Lord, not that I would know. The letter's not sealed with any known crests, M'Lord."

The scroll on the plate glared at him, juxtaposed by the dead paper and the light illuminating off the silver platter. Jaime snatched it and without another word nodded a swift thanks to the messenger and returned to his chambers. Barely even in through the door Jaime tore at the seal and marveled at the sight before him.

I know this handwriting. It was a penmanship he had dared not forget. He began to read,

Greetings, Brother

...


A/N: On a weird note a lady moved in upstairs and her wifi is called "Lorraine" how weird is that?

Tell me what you think!