Oh wow, so happy this update didn't take a whole week! This was surprisingly hard to start, I already knew exactly what I wanted to cover in this chapter, I just didn't know who to start with! A little longer than the last chapter, but I hope you enjoy it. Feedback would be appreciated x.

Jaime

Jaime stood there almost dumbfounded in the midst of conversation, seemingly he had become the object of his hosts' attentions and right now even he had to admit he was being a bore, restricting his answers to an array of:

"Yes, very much."

"It's lovely."

"You are too kind, my Lady."

In his defence, there were only so many ways in which he could answer how he was finding Ashemark so far. That Reina is an aspiring hostess. As boring as she is pretty.

He took the opportunity to casually stroll about the hall under the guise of examining it when Reina had momentarily engaged in conversation with Elaine about something to do with paints, and regardless of how fleeting that moment was he grasped it and silently took his leave from their presence. Leaving himself to his own company as he walked around in observation, his gaze eventually wandered to Addam and his sister Lorraine with their arms linked together, walking the perimeter of the hall. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but positioned well enough to view their interactions, Addam had rest his free hand atop both of hers that had been clasped around his arm as he spoke to here with a soft smile, bending his head down in order to look at her while she looked straight ahead, seemingly at nothing, reacting with her face to his retelling of his adventures and mishaps, surely. But still, as Jaime observed her, he did not see her mouth move beyond the pretty smile or delicate giggle that may have escaped her.
In his brief moment of strange solitude, he had been left to ponder what exactly it was that had besieged him in such confusion about the girl. He hadn't been flustered by her, he was not prone to getting flustered by women admittedly far more beautiful than she. Still, she was fair, though he could not say he took delight in admitting it. He remembered the sound of her laugh and how it shook through him when he had heard it, how it haunted him when he was alone. He realised that maybe he had craved to hear more from her, maybe her voice was not as boisterously young as her laugh was.

In his deep thought he hadn't noticed Janyne approaching him and sliding her arm through his, breaking him away from his train of thought to once again remember how to be a charming old knight.

"Why the solitude, Lannister? Walk with me, unless you would not prefer it!"

He laughed then, in surprise somehow of her demeanour even though he knew he should have expected it, he was used to it coming from Addam.

"Of course my Lady, though if I were to refuse you I don't doubt the remainder of your pack of sisters would offer their company."

"It's been a while since we've been graced by such a gallant knight, your arrival has corresponded well with the timing of the feast, you're a pretty little thing for decor aren't you?"

He scoffed lightly as they stepped around the hall, her surprisingly strong form guiding him as he forged a response,

"Have I been remiss this evening? I must apologise, it's been a long journey."

"Oh hush, no talk of journeys please -I beg of you. Come this way, I don't think you've seen the outer hall yet."

She led him through the hanging silks into the crisp night air that awaited them, the slight breeze not strong enough to blow out the set candles that offered light to the outdoor hall. Scanning the open hall at his leisure he now found that upon closer inspection, the smaller burnt tree looked more solemn than he had initially perceived it to be, standing there so small and burnt, alone in the relative dark, it looked like a starved figure on a field awaiting salvation.

Caught out of his reverie, he heard Janyne sigh as she looked on, opening her mouth to speak again, which he surprisingly did not mind from her,

"I have missed this place. It's been a while." she said with a smile, her pale eyes slightly glazed as she kept her gaze steady at the same tree Jaime had been considering.

"Is Silverhill not to your liking, my Lady?"

She returned Jaime's earlier scoff, "It's fine if you can handle the sight of those bloody peacock banners everywhere your eyes can see. But it's not here, it's not home -is it?"

What would I know of home? He almost answered. He creased his brow in thought but stayed silent as he thought, where is my home? What is home?

"Do you miss Casterly rock?" she asked suddenly, finally shifting her gaze to him as she extended one of her kind maternal smiles to him.

"Like you said, my Lady,...it's been a while." And he hoped she would leave it at that.

And she did.

"The hall isn't as charming as it is when there aren't people dancing in it-"

"Are you asking me to dance, my Lady?" he raised a brow, glad that the slight sadness in the air had been lifted and had now been replaced with growing merriment.

"Shall I hush you once again Lannister? Come inside, I do believe there is still a dinner to be had."

Walking back inside alongside Janyne, Jaime quickly found himself at ease with being greeted by the same sights as before and felt more encouraged to engage with those that conversed with him, which was strange of him -certainly, but he found that a part of him wanted to face the dark haired girl again, Lorraine, he remembered, and undo the enigma he had allowed to surround her.

Janyne

After engaging in their own private moment of what Janyne believed to be mutual understanding, she saw a visible change in Jaime's demeanour as he seemed more willing and open to engage in conversation.

Not that it was too riveting, she supposed. She took a moment to regard Jaime again, now that he was talking to Reina -about bloody paints no less, and she came to find Ser Jaime Lannister was alarmingly handsome. She had seen many handsome men in her time, some in the traditional sense, and some a kind of handsome you had to look a little closely for -like her husband, Ronald Serrett. But she knows that in her nine and thirty years alive, after marriage, birthing five children and living through a war, she had never seen a man as handsome as Jaime Lannister. Though she knew and assumed he was close to her in age, only a few years younger, the years had been good to him. Even with his hair cropped short he was handsome in some godly way, she doubted whether he was even aware of the extent his comeliness. Yes, Jaime Lannister was handsome, but he was not exactly beautiful. His face was hard when examined, and his features very precise, Janyne always thought some sort of softness should be present to be able to say someone is beautiful. She also noticed his hesitation with his stump, poor man overcompensated far too much with his left, but she appreciated that he seemed far less clumsy with his left hand than she had imagined -he did everything with his left hand, carry his goblet, shake hands, pour wine, everything but hold a sword. She pitied him then for only a moment, she knew Lannisters didn't want her pity, but nevertheless she gave it. Jaime Lannister, who had come to know nothing but war, politics and the Kingsguard all his life -had lost everything he had known within the span of a few short months; his King and nephew, his brother who she had heard had escaped the dungeons the night of his execution, his father -who his brother just so happens to have killed, and now his sister was imprisoned awaiting a trial by combat that he was obviously not there for. The matter held a thin presence in the room, but not enough to soil Jaime's temperament enough-and she was not about to make it a larger issue to the man who so obviously has come to forget.

She had done what she could to lighten his mood -though she supposed she could not entirely blame him for his initial reluctance, she did not expect a certain level of trust to fall freely from the lion. She had found it a little funny seeing him get flustered by her youngest sister so unceremoniously. She had Addam to thank for that, the poor man walked through our gates without knowing a single shred of information about them, so it was a given that Jaime would be confused -most people would be. The problem with that is if you don't explain things beforehand, it makes it harder to explain things afterwards.

She looked to Lorraine then, staying by Addam's side as she had always preferred, and she could not help but allow her heart to clench at the sight. They had come to Silverhill when Robb Stark's army had been fast approaching to keep them safe -surely the Starks would have had no use of them regardless, but one never knows during times of war. She remember how solemn faces greeted her at the gates when she approached, not even her little children could bring a lasting smile to any of their faces during those first few days. Reina went about not changing much -except for the fact that she fell to tears at every mention of Ashemark and the occasional burst of sobs at random intervals, Elaine had consumed herself with her painting and drawing -which she was exceptional at, but at times she would stay in her room for hours upon hours, not even coming out to eat. Lorraine went to the river nearby often, even when told not to, even when told that it could be dangerous -she still went. She had never stayed by the river before, and sometimes Janyne would catch her staring at it without movement for hours, and she could not help but worry. Lorraine had always been...expressive, but after leaving Ashemark something inside her seemed so solemn -it pained Janyne to have to look at it, and she thanked the Gods when they were allowed to go back to Ashemark, hoping it would help heal her heart.

She hadn't realised then that she had been staring at Lorraine, and that Jaime Lannister had followed her gaze in question, conveniently finding the object of his frustration.

"Excuse me, my Lady" he said to her as he gently removed their interlinked arms from their embrace and without a note of hesitation made his way over to Addam and Lorraine.

Gods help him.

Addam

"Thankfully, in the end, Riverrun was not too much of a bother. You'll be happy to know that much." he said as he concluded his explanation of their campaign thus far, and Lorraine smiled in understanding, looking at him briefly before resting her head on his arm.

I missed you too. He thought. But his moment of peace did not last for long as Jaime Lannister appeared in front of him, a wide grin on his face -his eyes pleading.

"Ah! Ser Jaime, have my sisters worn you out? So soon? It seems you are indeed getting old." he jested as he motioned his goblet of wine in his direction. Jaime's grin widened then, but not without a hint of hesitation as Addam noticed he carefully eyed his sister.

"I would like to think I have more life in me than that, these bones do not creak just yet, Ser." he shot back, and Addam let out a loud laugh at the recollection of their last spar -he had beaten him badly, but he heard no bones creaking yet.

"I have endured so much so that i've even come here to learn more, about your other sister. Mainly to prove a point to you." he quipped then, trying his best to keep the air light and not give off his sense of enigma as he turned to face Lorraine so that he was directly parallel to her and eyeing her meaningfully in anticipation, and it was only then that it had dawned on Addam how remiss he had been in offering information about his family and sisters that it was now going to come back and bite him in the arse, or at least make for what he thinks will be a painfully awkward interaction. Steeling his gaze at Jaime, who was trying to be courteous, he was trying for them, he looked to the sister he held close to him expecting to see her half cowering in fear of a stranger -but instead found her standing with a flustered smile to her face. Is my sister being...giddy?

Not exactly, he noticed, she was flustered but nevertheless her chin rose up in some kind of defiance, and instead of looking to Addam for help or an explanation she simply nodded to Jaime, bowed her head quickly and left Addam's side swiftly to take her place by her sisters who were now seating themselves at the dinner table.

Jaime's eyes held in them a sort of non-threatening confusion he still did not have the heart to crumble, as Jaime looked back to Addam in bewilderment he wondered what he would say to him then, deciding to leave a serious talk for another day, he interrupted Jaime just as he had opened his mouth to speak,

"Shall we be seated, Ser?"

Jaime

The remainder of the evening passed without much event save for the moving speech Lord Marbrand gave about restoring Ashemark to its former self and Elaine snorting her wine at something Duncan had said. You're really getting good with these names, he commended himself. He steered clear of Lorraine for the remainder of the evening, though in brutal honesty it was mostly due to her avoiding his presence in general. Even with such obvious merriment, laughter and joy that this family reunion had exulted unto the evening Jaime could not bring himself to feel at ease after his rather embarrassing encounter with Lorraine. After doing what he felt was the equivalent of paying his dues for the night, he retired to his chambers immediately after dinner.

Once there, he relieved himself of all his clothes, leaving him bare and almost crawling back to the comfort of a real bed. Before he could sleep he could not help but think of her once more, for although Jaime himself was used to men's spiteful attitudes and poison-laced words towards him he had seldom had anyone seemingly treat him so coldly, except for Eddard Stark perhaps, he remembered.
But she wasn't exactly cold, was she? Her eyes were different, they were warm and patient, could she not bring herself to offer anything in the means of a polite greeting? Why does she not speak to me? Is it because I am the Kingslayer? Is she ashamed to speak to a man with no honour, such as I? Of course, for I am an awful beast with one hand! Without me, there would be no you or Addam or your beloved Ashemark and paints and lovely dresses that make your breasts look like apples. No, without me the Mad King would have had his way and probably rape any maid in the Kingdom right before her wedding. If not for me, your beloved tree on fire would be nothing but ash.
He fumed silently, shutting his eyes tighter as he decided that he had had enough of cowering to a lesser lady. He would no longer let Lorraine Marbrand plague his thoughts and will pay her no mind, just as she had done him.

And finally, he felt himself fall in to a thankfully dreamless sleep.

When he went down to breakfast the next morning he had renewed his determination to ignore the dark haired maiden. Sitting by Addam though and giving a brief smile to his comrades he realised, with little relief, that she was oddly not present in the hall.

"I was hoping you would not be too weary for a tour, Lannister", boomed Addam's voice as he picked a grape.

"I'm inclined to ask if I look too weary for a tour now." he smirked as Addam laughed on, slapping his palm on Jaime's back in the process.

"I thought i'd offer at least a day of respite for you, I thought we could help train some of the household knights in the coming days" he gave a knowing smile then and Jaime immediately recognised what he meant; while Jaime was far from where he was he could most certainly beat a household knight, and that would serve as good practice for both parties.

"Well then, lead the way Ser Addam."

He was surprised to learn of Ashemark's structure. It seemed boring enough, just as any castle was, from afar, but upon closer inspection he found that it was riddled with obscure halls, intertwining bridges and double doorways. They walked onto an open bridge wherein on one end you could see the gardens below and on the other end the water pools were visible from atop, Jaime regarded the view with respite as he felt a sudden calmness wash over him. He almost forgot he was in Addam's presence until he heard him speak,

"I've learned why my father had requested my presence. It seems he believes it is time I marry before I become Lord of Ashemark."

"Marry? I wouldn't have thought you were the marrying kind, certainly not charming enough for that." he jested.

"You don't need charm to have a wife." Addam gave him a pointed stare then, it seems he was not taking the news as lightly as Jaime was.

In all honesty, Jaime hadn't ever thought of Addam and his prospects for marriage, if he did not know any better he would have thought Addam had taken some sort of vow of celibacy, particularly in recent months. Addam liked a pretty girl well enough, but to Jaime's knowledge he never was prone to touch them, or at least did not brag about touching them. Nevertheless, even when he did like a girl, he never liked her that much. He wondered then what kind of a wife Addam would likely have as apposed to the kind of wife that would suit him well. Surely she would be from the West, she'd have to be tall and slim, not many women would take kindly to a man slimmer than them. She'd have to have dark hair, something that won't cause their children to have that awful red hair. She would be quite willowy, with a slim neck and shy voice. Yes, that would look well by Addam's side. He thought.

"I give my congratulations in advance, i'm sure whomever you choose will be a fine match." he said as Addam scoffed and heard him mutter,

"That is if my father has not chosen for me already."

Sensing a blanket of displeasure and bitterness hover about their silence Addam quickly perked up enough to change the subject of discussion.

"You know, my sisters are quite fascinated by you." He was sat on one end of the bridge now, smiling slightly at Jaime with a quirked eyebrow, waiting to scan his response.

"Not all of them, it seems." he could not help but answer. He saw Addam visibly stiffen for a moment but immediately relax back in to the easy air he had forged. He smiled again at Jaime then, with some evidence of sadness in his eyes, and he got up and motioned for them to resume walking albeit at a much slower stride.

"It is not as it seems, I am afraid."

"Would it be ardent of me to ask you to explain?

"Lorraine is very...different. I understand she must come off as a little...intimidating." And again, before Jaime could stop himself he blurted out,

"Quite the contrary" and Addam swiftly turned then to eye him curiously with much shock to his features,

"Oh?"

"I just meant that I have trouble believing her to be as malicious as you make her out to be!" they both laughed into the breezy air and settled back into an immediate and uncomfortable silence, awaiting elaboration. Sensing that Addam was still a little reluctant and so obviously in some sort of reverie of thought, Jaime started again,

"Is it something I had done?" He asked in reluctance, and awaited his answer as he watched Addam's face contort into further confusion before he realised they were talking about Lorraine again.

"Oh no, certainly not. It was never her intention to offend. It never is. I realise now how awfully wrong it was of me not mention anything of my family before bringing you here. You see, there is something you should know about Lorraine. One, mainly she, would argue it is not a defining quality, but it certainly serves no one to omit it." He sighed in heavily, and Jaime awaited in anticipation.

"You see, Jaime, Lorraine is a mute."

Jaime was stunned in to silence, a mute? That wold explain so much. He had a hard time believing it for some reason. He remembered her laugh, it was so alive and so real, it did nothing but make him wonder about the circumstances in which she found herself to be mute. His thoughts wandered to Ilyn Payne and how he had had his tongue torn out with hot pincers as punishment for commenting that the Hand of The King did more ruling of the Seven Kingdoms than the Mad King, he was the only mute person that Jaime knew and although he would venture to guess that Lorraine did not have her tongue ripped out of her mouth he could not help but compare how different she was to Ser Ilyn.

He didn't feel awful for assigning blame or taking offence at her actions, or inaction, he believes it was still his right to think so. But his curiosity about her did not cease, merely grew.

"Was she...born that way?" he asked, watching as Addam visibly winced slightly at the question.

"No...she wasn't"

"What happened?"

"You see, we're not quite sure. She was four years old when it happened, it was right after King Robert Rebellion, precisely four moons after our mother had been taken from us by sickness. We heard her scream one day in the gardens. She screamed and screamed until her face was pale and her voice was grating, but she wouldn't stop. We found her and I remember my father held her in his arms and carried her, but she still would not stop screaming. The Maester gave her Milk of The Poppy, and right before she closed her eyes she said something that no one could hear. They examined her while she was asleep, to see if anyone had...hurt her..or done anything..." his voice was pained by the memory of what had occurred and Jaime almost felt obliged to stop him if it were not for his curiosity on the matter,

"She was fine. Not a scratch. But when she finally woke, she did not speak. We even waited a few days thinking that maybe she was too tired from all the screaming and medicine, but she was fine. We heard sounds come out of her when she was in pain so we knew that her voice had not died. She just...stopped speaking. To any of us. We wondered why for a very long time, but she was happy the way that she was. It didn't bother her, and after a while it didn't bother us either."
After processing the information Jaime asked again,

"Then how do you communicate, if I may ask? You seem to understand each other well... how is that achieved?"

Addam chuckled then, the lightness returning to the conversation even though the subject was still quite dim.

"I never thought i'd have to explain that to anyone! It sounds strange now that I think of it. We've developed a bit of a system, just to make things easier." He extended his index finger then and moved it at where his first knuckle based at his hand was,

"this means yes", and then he bent that same finger at where his second knuckle was so only half the finger was bent,

"and this means thank you. And we have a lot more little tricks like that. Also, the equivalent of those two can be translated to touch, one finger tap for yes, two for thank you. We can usually understand what she means by motioning and hand gestures, and other times when she wants to get detailed she just writes to us."

Jaime nodded then, trying to absorb the information given, even though it was obviously not expected of him to use it at any time in the upcoming future.

"That's very clever." he commented before adding,

"But she does understand you well enough, does she not?"

"I'd say more than enough. She told me once that she was happier without words, that when you took away the words you would see that things clearer, truer, I think she meant. You can say whatever you need to without speaking a word. She can usually tell what we want to say before we even say it."

Jaime could not stop himself as he thought of her eyes once more, and how they had treated him with patience that he did not expect. Was she speaking to me then? Jaime could only nod to that, not knowing what to return with.

They were still walking, he noticed, albeit without proper direction, but he found that they had neared a door, the first ornate door they had come across for a while on their tour after they had passed through the main wing.

"It seems we've been lead to the library then," said Addam dryly,

"Didn't we pass the library when we were touring the main wing? By the Gods Marbrand, have you been away for that long?" he quipped in hopes that he would restore some comedy to the situation.

"Oh no Lannister, I said we passed the local library, this is the library." he said as he gave a cunning grin and latched his hands on to the door handle.

As he opened it a sudden cluttering noise could be heard, like the fall of a few books, and as they both looked around the grand room of dark orange and deep browns with double-story shelves of books decorating the walls his eyes once again wandered to the familiar view of dark hair whirling around, alas this time it was in surprise. There, in the middle of the library with a look akin to a deer in shock of its predator's sudden pounce, stood the subject of much recent conversation and constant enigma to Jaime Lannister, Lorraine Marbrand.