A/N: WASSUP. Thought everything was going well huh? Nah, it's still ASOIAF.

Will they make-up? We shall see.

Another POV is introduced in this chapter -I believed it would serve the story well to kind of show this other point of view of Jaime and Lorraine's marriage to an outsider.

Also, i've made the decision that i'm gonna publish each chapter more or less once i'me done with it because I don't feel like I can really start working on the next one until i've had a proper response (here's hoping). So, I hope that decision works out for me.

Jaime

He could not sleep the night it happened.

Jaime Lannister was not grossly accustomed to feeling shame, but there was no doubt that that was what he had felt after the ordeal with Lorraine. It was not really an ordeal, but he could not think of any other way to put it, for he had put Lorraine through something he was usually proud of sparing other maidens from.

It was only at the sound of her voice, of her speaking, saying his name, that sobriety had stung him and he resumed back into an appropriate level of consciousness. It had come over him in a wave, and no part of him fought back. He had been so infuriated at not only the gall of Edmure Tully but at the fact that he could not act on his rage. He had felt like everyone was laughing at him, like Edmure Tully saw fit to mock him and Lorraine was making a fool of him every night she did not let him have her. He had, in his moment of fury, acted foolishly and done something quite possible irreparable to his marriage and to the one person he had allowed to matter to him he blamed himself for it. I could have done anything else. I could have yelled at a maid or exhausted my efforts on some castle guard in the tiltyard, not try to force myself on my own wife.

Somehow when it had all happened he managed to grow even more angry, suddenly betrayed by Lorraine's ability of speech. It had come out of her quite course, what she had said, and her tongue sounded a little heavy or stiff from it not being so often used, but it had still been clear. She had said no to him and to all that he was doing, and he was too ashamed of what he had done to allow her to see it, instead pointing his accusations at her and questioning her harshly. When she had run from him it had only been the cherry on top, and when he was done thrashing at her door, exhausting every form of an apology or scolding he could find, he sat by the door thinking about that strange dream he had had about his father and how he had all but become him.

The hardest part about the entire debacle he was now in was the fact that he had no idea how to get out of it or make things better. What could he possible do to erase such an act? How in the world was he going to get her to trust him again?

He had never given her any reason to doubt him before and she had all but given him her trust freely. But Jaime had never had to fight to regain anyone's trust. The only people he had ever cared for shared his blood and somehow time always healed any wounds coming from one another. He had never had to make up for anything he did with Cersei, though now he doubted it that she ever forgave him for anything.

The cat meowed, and Jaime balled his fists at the reminder that she was not in their room. He wondered if she will ever come out. Somehow he felt she would, but definitely not purely for his own sake. He stared down the door, in the harsh morning sunlight and now fully dressed in a linen tunic and brown breeches, silently willing for the door to fly open and for Lorraine to step out of the darkness. What would he do then if that happened? Would he get on his knees and furiously kiss her hands until the skin was coarse and wrinkled with his regret? Would he pretend like it did not happen?

After spending far too long a moment staring at the door that was no the bane of his existence, a door he now wished he had locked off the moment Lorraine had agreed to sharing her chambers with him forever, he finally sighed out and made his way out -shooing Amber away so he would not slam the door on her.

Somehow, some way, Jaime managed to spend his entire day without seeing Lorraine or the Tullys. Starting at the tiltyard to redirect his frustrations he then moved on to the study -a place he never wanted to enjoy being in. But, apparently, as Lord of Casterly Rock and the newly assigned Warden of The West, Jaime had a lot on his plate. The least of what he had to currently deal with was the matter of the bandits in the nearby villagers; in one village the bandits had even managed to overthrow the local authority and claimed it as their own. Allowing that to happen or to continue happening would give off the impression that he either did not care or was not feared. And Jaime had a serious problem with one of those assumptions.

He had planned on asking Lorraine about it once they had settled into their daily duties since she had proven to be great help in the last matter he had asked her advice for, but even if that would ever be an option again he doubted the matter at hand could wait long enough for him to appease his wife. Of course he knew what his later father would do, he would attack with all forces just to prove House Lannister was not one to be trifled with. He remembered the stories people had told him of his grandfather -an amiable but weak willed man, and how he had almost run their names into the ground, allowing lesser lords to stomp all over him. Perhaps the only influence his grandfather may have had on his father was that his carelessness had served to harden Tywin, making almost any event in the Seven Kingdoms somehow an insult, even in the most obscure indirect way, to their House.

What would my father do? He thought as he tossed a paperweight back and forth in his hands. Surely he would call the banners, make an example out of the bandits. Have their corpses hung all the way from the Golden Tooth to the borders. But Jaime could not help but think it was too much of an effort for mere bandits. It was all too much trouble just to make an example out of them, and with the Winter and the gold not being as abundant as it used to be perhaps it would be a better not to squander resources so freely. Yes, he thought, i'll send a host of my own men. A good thousand. Quick, and to the point. They'll eliminate the threats, restore the peace, hang the bodies outside each town to remind everyone that it never pays to cause trouble for us. Perhaps I shall even visit each of the towns and villages to make sure things have settled and make an appearance.
He loathed the idea of not participating himself. It made him feel useless, and weak. Like he was some high lord too proud to fight, as if it was not what he had spent his entire life doing. As if it was at times the only thing he had. But as the new Lord of House Lannister, it would be unwise to put himself in unnecessary danger. Or be away from his wife so soon -though he did not waste time in correcting himself that she damn well might not want him there regardless.

Time was proving to move far too slowly for his liking. By the time he had finished all the stationary matters at hand in his study it was not even midday yet, and Damion had informed him that there was nothing else to get done for that day until much later when they would retrain the horses -and Jaime was suddenly at a loss for things to distract himself with. And it was only just midday.

Casterly Rock was huge, and no shortage of rooms and crevices to explore, but somehow Jaime did not feel right wandering aimlessly through his own home whilst his wife was probably still in their rooms shaken by events caused at his own hand.

He had promised to be good to her. And he was sure Lorraine knew people made their mistakes, but he also knew she would expect him to admit that it had been a mistake in the first place. A colossal one at that.

He stalked back to their suites, his head down in deep thought to how he could possibly phrase an apology. Apologies were not exactly Jaime's forte. Just as he had made the sharp left turn leading to the hallway their suites were he lifted his head to find Lorraine coming back to their chambers as well from the other end of the hallway. She slowed once she had registered him as he had stopped completely in his tracks, unable to move and too afraid to scare her away -unknowing how to proceed. She was covered in dirt and swear again much like she was the previous day, but what was different was the fact that she was wearing the dress he had given her. He supposed even she was not so stubborn as to turn the dress away when she had no other alternatives to it.

With his eyes still staring at her with caution, he could not make out the expression on her face. But surprisingly so, she continued on into the room at a deliberate, steady pace and did not close the door behind her.

With caution to his step he entered after her. She stood in their lounging space with her back to him, but even he could see her breath was heavy and her fingers were fidgeting nervously. He closed the door behind him with a gentle click and did not miss the slight shudder to come across Lorraine's back at the sound indicating they were now alone once more.

Taking a light step towards her, his mind still uncharacteristically blank,

"Lorraine" He all but whispered to her. And she gave him no indication that she had heard him. Lowering his head down, he pressed the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, trying to think of something he could possibly say to start.

"What...happened last night...it was not..." He could not find the words, and he suddenly heaved out, "I was not worthy."

She turned to him sharply then, facing him fully, as if her shortness was not an issue, and she stared him down. He had thought that the few times they had disagreed he had seen flashes of anger in her -but he was now all too quickly realising that it was merely annoyance he had seen. This is anger.

Her mouth was pressed firmly together and he could all but hear the sound of her teeth grinding. Are you in any way related to Stannis Baratheon? He held back the comic thought as he was faced full on with the wrath of his little wife. Her arms were now crosses against her chest, her eyes wide and her whole frame nearly shook with the bubbling anger. But she made no other move. Nothing to communicate with him. She just stood there, waiting for him to elaborate, and he had no choice but to relent.

"I was wrong to do that to you. I was not thinking, my lady. I hope you can forgive me."

"Why?" Why what? Why do I hope you would bestow your forgiveness upon me?

"I feel ashamed of what i've done, and I hope you can move on from this." He almost winced at how insincere it sounded.

She shook her head at that and once again turned away from him -this time marching to the same table he had pressed her up against, and grabbed a notepad to scribble furiously in.

"You have done things far worse, why appease me, my lord? I am only your WIFE" He sighed out loud as he read the thin parchment she had slapped into his hand, getting the sense now that a calm discussion was not how this matter was going to be resolved. And hiding behind false courtesies and mechanic insincerity was not the way to get anywhere with her now.

He looked at her seriously then, trying to thaw the icy storm brewing in her eyes, and took a long breath in.

"You matter much to me, Lorraine. I was angry at something that had happened, and I took it out on you because I felt frustrated by everything. There is no excuse. Only a promise that it will never happen again."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because the thought of anyone hurting you makes me want to have their head. And somehow knowing that I had hurt or caused you pain...well, it doesn't make me very fond of myself. So I can't imagine what you currently think of me."

Her eyes did not waver from his, but still he felt like she was lost in thought over his admissions and was still confused over how to answer him.

Realising he had not actually yet apologised to her, he decided to do it in a matter that would please them both -him in a way that would not entail him actually saying the words, and her in a way she was extremely familiar with. So, lifting his finger so it stood between them, he bent all his fingers except for pinky into a fist and curled the pinky down in Lorraine's direction. "Sorry"

A small smile escaped her, but it was immediately replaced once more with her perplexed expression as she turned down to write once more.

"What would possess you so in order for you to hurt me this way?"

"I told you, Lorraine, something had gotten the better of my temper earlier on right before I had gone to see you."

"What?"

He audibly sighed out, not wishing to discuss that particular subject with her in the current context.

"If you must know, I had gone to see Edmure Tully." She seemed stunned by his answer, and continued prodding.

"What happened?"

"Lorraine I would really rather not get into it no-"

"What happened?"

Finally giving up and feeling the weight of the entire time from the last evening to right now, Jaime plopped down onto the couch and rest his head in hand. Cautiously, Lorraine sat in the seat opposite him, still eyeing him for a response -albeit with a hint of worry in her features.

"He just... was not very easy to deal with. He resents me -which is fine, plenty of men do, and I took his home. But I couldn't...do anything about it. I had to just stand there and let him think he had somehow won. I felt like I was getting laughed at."

"That's all?"

"Well it didn't really help that you and I...you were miserable before we got here. I would hear you weep at night, and all I wanted to do, strangely, was hold you to me. I have, for quite a while now, as you know felt a very physical attraction to you...I was just not used to feeling that way and not acting on it. Because I wanted you to come to me. And now, I think it's fair to say i've ruined that."

She nodded slowly at his words, trying to look considerate and understanding, but Jaime could see the plain blush in her cheeks and knew that even through all her freeness Lorraine was still shy when it came to sex.

"I was afraid of you" His words leapt out in response,

"I know and i'm sorry. I don't want you to be afraid. And I promise you," It took a lot not to move to stroke her cheek, "I will never mistreat you in that way again."

"I forgive you. This time." He chuckled nervously at her response, but where they stood now with things left it too awkward for him to do anything. He could not completely ignore or disregard her, but he did not know whether he could venture to touch her yet.

Hesitantly, he reached his hand out and placed it atop hers and tried not to feel offended at the jolt of nervousness that he felt in her hands for a moment.

Lorraine

When Jaime placed his hand on mine, I got the sense that I had not really entirely forgiven him. I had become a liar.

His touch still felt threatening and heavy, like it was somehow containing me. I did not look at him then, for surely he had noticed. It was an awkward situation we were in, and I myself was trying my very best to keep images of last night out of my head as we sat in front of one another.

When I had awoken that morning it was with the resolve that I would not allow my husband, or the acts of my husband, to break me. And though I did wait for him to leave our chambers before I left the room so I would avoid yet facing him, I did pick myself up, put on the dress he had gifted me the day before, and gone about my duties. The entire time I had been working in the garden I had worried that he would see me wearing his gift as some sort of act of forgiveness, when it was hardly so. A part of me wanted to let that man know that his gifts did not scare me, his money and gold could never buy me and as his wife I was not obliged to put up with his dishonourable behaviours just because I was too shy to turn away his gifts.

But he had stuttered, and mumbled and shifted and fidgeted out as he apologised, and I could tell he was nervous. He thought I would never forgive him, and at the time I had thought that may have been true. But there he was trying, and I could somehow see that he meant it. His admittance that our lack of copulation was a factor in his eventual rage did make me realise that perhaps I was moving too slow, but I could not just jump into bed with him now could I? I don't even think he would let me, Jaime has too much pride to allow that. He would not accept for me to give myself over to him just because he had expressed a want for me. And truth be told, judging from the way his touch still sent a trickle of fear down my back, I doubt I would savour the thought of him unbuckling his breeches near me so soon.

He made to leave not long after we had settled silently, and I remembered asking whether he was going to see the Tullys again. He had smiled thinly,

"No. Not today. Just retraining some of the horses and taming the others." I nodded.

"Would...would you like to come?" And I immediately shook my head at that, and Jaime obviously held in a chuckle. Perhaps one day I would find it in me to ride, but today had already been emotionally taxing -it did not need me adding to it by facing a new fear.

With a curt nod, Jaime stood up and took his leave from me and I exhaled at the relief that I was now alone again.

Just then, Amber scrambled into the communal area and I walked over to her, picking her up and taking my seat once more as I placed her in my lap. I stroked her soft fur in deep thought at all that had occurred but my thoughts curiously lingered over the Tullys. I had wanted to ask Jaime then about Roslin and her babe, but felt that I did not want to prolong the conversation further. What would Edmure Tully have to say to Jaime that was so...provocative?

I imagined the family in my mind. Was Edmure Tully mean to his wife? Jaime had not let on as much. But I could not stop imagining consecutive family portraits of Tullys in their chambers. The Tullys having dinner. The Tullys by the sea. It made me feel less alone in this castle.

Interrupting my thoughts, the maid I had been working with closely in the garden, Myra, came in after she had knocked asking when I would like my luncheon. I plopped Amber down in the seat next to me and reached over the notepad, expressing to her that I would like to have a bath first before she could bring my food up so I may, once again, eat alone.

Before she left a stroke of genius happened upon me and I furiously waved my hands around to catch her attention. Once again furiously writing into my notepad, I delicately handed her the messy page of instructions.

"After my bath I will have my luncheon in the south garden. Summon Roslin Tully to join me."

Roslin

She sat there stunned at what Myra had said to her, and could feel Edmure's eyes glaring into her skin.

He had been so miserable and grumpy, and the few moments he would find any cheer was when he was with her and Brynden, but Roslin had felt a strange sort of guilt towards Edmure because of how she felt at Casterly Rock.

Strange as it was, Roslin found Casterly Rock, a place she was currently being held in as a comfortable hostage, was far less dreary than any other place she had lived in. The Twins was not only dark, wet and boring all the time she had lived there but had been permanently marred in trauma for her and so many others that spending another night there was out of the question for her. Riverrun had not been any better. But Casterly Rock was suddenly different. Yes, they were confined to the castle -but Roslin had always been confined to castles throughout her life. The sun was a welcome change to the unrelenting rain, and the sound of the waves helped little Brynden sleep at night.

She calls him her littlefish, she thought it fitting since he had been named after the Blackfish -whom she still prays is alive and well somewhere far away from the madness.

When Jaime Lannister and his bride were due to arrive to Casterly Rock the castle rumbled in excitement and Roslin, because of Edmure's constant gloominess and hatred for the Lannisters, had to quiet the excitement she could not help but feel. It was all she had in this kind of existence. She had always been a quiet girl, a nice girl. And she could not really afford to have nothing to be nice about anymore. She was prone to bouts of sadness, to crumbling when it all became to much, to crying when she had not the strength to carry the weight of her sorrow. But she did not want little Brynden to grow and know his mother to be a sad one. Giving birth to him was near impossible -but if she did not die birthing him then there was nothing that could happen to her that would break her resolve to provide, through all the odds, a good home and family for her son.

"And what would the Lady Lannister want with my wife?" Edmure questioned the maid and she immediately faltered in her response, still unused to his bluntness.

"I don't know m'lord, she didn't say." He turned back to face Roslin then,

"I can't let you go, what would a mute want with my wife?" Before she could reason with him Myra the maid interjected,

"M'lord, if I may, my Lady Lorraine seems very sincere. She's a gentle soul, m'lord."

The young maid had had a soft spot for the Tully's since Roslin had arrived with her child, and Roslin was for one glad to have someone to at least talk to. Edmure on the other hand was glad to have someone on his side somehow, which was preposterous since Myra, and all of the servants, were and would remain loyal to their Lord. And from the sound of it, Myra was growing quite admiring of her new Lady. Before Edmure could open his mouth once more and turn down the offer on her behalf, Roslin spoke up.

"Tell Lady Lorraine I accept. I'll get ready at once." And with a curt nod and clumsy bow, Myra left their rooms.

Her husband looked at her hard and slowly stood up to move behind where she sitting on the couch. He rested his hands on her shoulders and began massaging her slowly, and her eyes closed in relief -though she was expectant of his chiding remarks.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking, my love, that I could use the fresh air."

"You could have-"

"No, I could not." And she gave him a meaningful look. Surely he must know that it wasn't even all that possible to say no. They did not have the advantage of refusals.

"I can't help but worry about you." He whispered to her, and she noticed the strain in her voice. Perhaps you could use some fresh air as well, she thought to herself.

They were not confined to their rooms, and have been given leave to walk the many gardens and open areas and clearing in Casterly Rock -though there have been some sensitivities regarding the places they thought the Lord and Lady Lannister would frequent, but Edmure had barely left their rooms since his arrival.

Of course, this was all very hard for him. "I had done it for you" he had said to her, but she did not want their lives to stop at Casterly Rock.

She got up out of her seat, still a little sorely -the birthing bed was not a comfortable one, and made to walk away from him to go and prepare for her luncheon but he had grabbed her gently by her arm,

"Do be careful"

Edmure's concern over her always made her feel warmth for him. She had never been fussed over, never been nurtured in anyway. But even though she was now a prisoner of sorts, her house was now known was a disloyal one, her husband exiled from his own birthright and her wedding a bloodbath as she was being bedded, she was glad that Edmure Tully was her husband.

She kissed him on the cheek,

"I will"

This chapter did not go the original way that I had expected it to, I had planned on fitting in something else but I was surprised at how much the Jaime-Lorraine scene took up so I decided i'd put all that other stuff in the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed! Please review.