A/N: Sup? Well, as promised, here you all have the latest update.

I've changed a minor thing in the last chapter just because I had forgotten that I had given Daven the title of the Hand of The King. I forgot that I had done that so I accidentally updated saying that Daven and his wife were to stay on a near-permanent basis. But I have now changed that to saying that they will be staying only a little while before heading to King's Landing (which, if you read what comes in this chapter, actually ends up making much more sense).

Edmure

She was happy. And for the time being, that mattered to Edmure far more than what the source of her happiness may be.

In the time he had known Roslin he had found her to be quiet -no less delightful, but still...quiet. It was a trait he could tell stemmed from her not being used to speaking so freely, not like he had been. But in recent weeks his wife had been spending more and more time with the Lady of the Rock, and he found happiness in her that he usually only saw when she was sat with little Brynden.

Of course, he still did not trust the motives of Lady Lannister. He had not met her himself but Roslin had not stopped speaking of her charm, her kindness, her warmth. In times of war Edmure's immediate suspicion would be that she was trying to extract information from them or baiting Roslin somehow, but he had found it hard to crush Roslin so when she had obviously tried so hard to keep things light and positive between them.

Though he could not bring himself to so easily stomp on the new friendship she was enjoying he could not resign himself to accept that this prison was now a viable home for him. He would throw himself into the sea if it were not for the very reason he was here, his family.

Edmure could never find any beauty or appreciation about the West, not while he knew the circumstances regarding his being here. The Sunset Sea was loud, and smelt of fish to him. The land was too dry. The horizon too grey. Everything was grey. And he did not want it to be any other colour, for the dreary grey fueled his anger and he feared losing everything if he did not yet have his anger.

At least I can make use of my anger, he thought to himself bitterly as he sipped his wine harshly.

He was sat on the balcony graciously afforded to his suites just feet above the high tide. Roslin had decided on taking Brynden out for some and had suggested he should do the same, he wanted to show his wife he could heed her advice whilst still remaining subborn.

The waves crashed against the stone holding up his balcony, the sound from the waves and the wind covering over the sound of someone entering his chambers.

"Enjoying the fresh air?" He heard come from a masculine voice he was not accustomed to hearing in recent days, and wished for it to remain so. There was never any need to rub salt in the wound.

He spun in his chair to confirm his unfortunate visitor and found to his disgust Jaime Lannister standing there bathed in all the sun's glory, near glowing in his shine doublet and arrogance.

"What brings you down here, Kingslayer? Tired of your new guests so soon?" His jab was only awarded with a tight smile, and Edmure was impressed that not even the Kingslayer's fists were clenched.

"I'm afraid there are matters we must discuss." He rolled his eyes.

"I do believe the last few times we had things to discuss it did not leave us friends, Kingslayer."

"Thankfully I do not seek your friendship."

Edmure was surprised at the ease the Kingslayer had found at slinking off to his side and sitting down on one of the chairs adjacent to him. He was thankful for the table between them, it served as an obstacle to keep Edmure from pouncing at the smug Lion.

"Then what is it you seek?" His curiosity was not piqued enough, not even when he noticed the KIngslayer absently playing with his own fingers in an attempt to phrase the discussion correctly.

"I suppose you already know quite well that the Capital is not exactly stable."

"Yes." He said with a wild grin. He could still not be sure what this was all about but it did bring him joy to think of King's Landing, Pig's Bay, in tatters. The Queen Mother shamed, the King but a boy and the Hand murdered. Lannisters, be it, imprisoned, befuddled or dead were always welcome to Edmure's thoughts.

"With my uncle's death comes the reshaping of the small council. The King had asked that I give suggestions to whom to place onto the council."

"Asking for my opinion Kingslayer?" The Lannister's smile seemed to grow grim as his eyes pinned him to his seat.

"No. Your opinion is not needed. Randyl Tarly and I have agreed that it is best you be placed on the small council as Master of Coin."

The wine he had gulped down hitched in his throat and he had to cough up the remainder. He did not want to seem shaken by the news, but he could not help but show that he was taken aback.

"Are you out of your bloody mind Kingslayer? Master of Coin?"

"Yes. Believe me, it was a decision made in full clarity."

He eyed him with unprecedented suspicion.

"Why? What you and your lot have to gain by placing me as Master of Coin? What would you get if I were to go to King's Landing?"

"First of all allow me to correct you, there is no if in the matter of your departure to King's Landing. You will be going with Daven. Secondly, I suppose you know as well as I that the Riverlords would never accept Emmon Frey as their liege, not to say that he is even worth it. The Kingdom, and the King, need peace. You provide that peace. You prove the King with a merciful image, and your service will be viewed as a sort of penance. After a good number of years of service, you will be Riverrun will be returned to you -and you may return to it."

"There's a catch, i'm guessing."

"Many. Your son will be left as a Ward to the King when you return to Riverrun in the future." It was now his fists that balled up tightly,

"Never."

"I don't recall saying you had a choice. How else are we to ensure you behave after you've gone?"

"How are you to ensure i'll behave in the first place?"

"King's Landing is a pit of snakes, you're a fool if you think every move you make will not be closely watched. You won't even be allowed to leave the Red Keep."

"And what if fail miserably at my role?"

"You won't have a chance to really, it's almost purely a title. I suppose this is what politics is, isn't it? Not my cup of tea, personally, but it must be done."

"Do you think i'd go along with this? That i'd let that bastard have my son? That i'd let you send me there just to have my throat cut?"

He must have thought he was an idiot, surely. King's Landing, of all places? He was a good as dead. He had given up his family's home just to die. He was boiling in anger, and bubbling over ever more as he read the Kingslayer's calm demeanor.

"You and your family, just as you will be closely watched, will be fully protected. And frankly I do not have to explain anything to you, but your son will return to you. Just as it has been your duty to keep your family safe it has also been mine to ensure that the Kiing finds peace with his people." He could not reply for even with reason he was still suspicious that this was all an elaborate assassination.

"Do not mistake my words, my Lord. Just because I promise your protection for your cooperation, it does not mean you are invincible. One wrong move, one whiff of treason, and your head will justly mount a spike and even the Riverlords would not contest it."

Bitterly, Edmure thought about how well planned this had all been. He was surprised that it had even come from Jaime Lannister, whom he considered thick. But of course, he must have had help from Randyll Tarly. A sudden idea popped into his head, and he decided to pursue it, if only for the mere end of giving Jaime Lannister a bit of suffering.

"Tell me, Kingslayer, what does your little wife make of all this? Won't she be sad losing a companion? Perhaps I should meet her before it is too late."

"Good bye Edmure."

And just like that, the Golden Knight had gotten up and exited without another word, leaving Edmure to simmer in his bitterness. He replayed that same conversation they had had in his father's study the last time they were at Riverrun.

You will never know how sick it makes me to see you in this room, Kingslayer. You will never know how much I despise you.

You will never know how much I despise you.

You will never know how much I despise you.

"You will never know how much, Kingslayer."

Lorraine

It pains me to admit it, but our dinner was far more cheerful than it would have been had it been just Jaime and I, as has been the case for over a month now.

Daven was a delight, and I knew he would be so from the moment I met him. Strange to think he is so different from my husband when he is in fact the closest relation to him I had met thus far. I almost felt a little guilty interacting with Daven as much as I had, laughing freely as his jokes -as I had always done with anyone I had come across, whilst simultaneously giving his wife the lesser of my attentions.

In truth, I had tried to encourage her to join in more and I believe I have given her ample opportunity to do so, but she had succeeded in avoiding participation at all costs thus far in the evening.

Strangely enough, I felt like Daven was quite well suited to his wife. Even though it is my firm belief that no one can ever be devoid of laughter and joy, Marla Frey and Daven Lannister looked well complimented sitting by each other's side, perhaps even juxtaposed. Daven is boisterous, frank and quite loud -which Gods know we needed around her, and Marla is quiet...a kind of quiet I believe I can appreciate in no time. His long golden hair made his wife's shine brighter, her dark eyes made his grow a little greener, it would all look so perfect if I did not catch the strong sense of misery that overcame their features whenever their eyes met or their hands brushed against the other's.

While I can admit I had been quite enthralled by our latest company, I could not say that I was not also focused on my husband, who, for some strange reason, looked extremely uncomfortable in his own seat. His brow knotted, his eyes seemingly focused on a spot on the table but still distant. He was not there, and I began to wonder why.

I had not had the chance to ask him how his discussion with Daven before dinner went -I had not even asked truly what they were discussing, but I knew Jaime would tell me on his own now -of course it would give him no joy at all to hear that that was a lesson he had probably learned thanks to me.

Daven had grown accustomed to me straight away, if he were not my husband's cousin one would think he was all too familiar but in truth I did not care, his directness and sharp tongue was a breath of fresh air.

"I do hope I am not too much of a bore, cousin." Daven had directed his gaze to Jaime who was sitting at the head of the table, opposite me.

He smiled back at him, I did not need to be as perceptive as I was to know it was not a sincere one.

"Self-doubt does not suit you, cousin." Jaime drawled out before taking a large gulp of wine from his embellished goblet.

Daven laughed loudly and it resounded through the entire hall.

We had not eaten here before, Jaime and I. It had always just been...Jaime and I, and so there was no need to ever take up so much space. But now, even with present company this hall seemed eerily empty. Its walls were barer than I had expected them to be and for some reason I could not look away from the dark naked brick, slightly damp and waiting for life to enter it. I could imagine people would ignore the bare walls if the hall was full of people. Full of joy and laughter and dancing, I wonder, will we ever have that here? Or did I leave that all behind in Ashemark?

I had always taken the sense that Jaime enjoyed keeping to himself. As much as I believed he desired glory I don't think he enjoys festivities all too much. He had never been a man of too many words especially in the company of many, but between me and him he spoke more than enough for the both of us.

I noticed Daven's gaze shift to me then and I adjusted myself once more to face him.

"It seems my cousin is still preoccupied in thought from our earlier discussion." His eyes were directed at me but I could tell from the sheer volume of his speech that it was meant for all to hear.

"I can not blame him though, the state of things is quite heavy to bear." I looked to Jaime then, hoping for some kind of an explanation as to why Daven was so openly talking about this at the dinner table and I realised my husband was not looking at me but at his cousin, in a way that I could only describe as fierce scrutiny.

And again, Daven laughed at Jaime's expression.

"Oh calm cousin! There are wives, not strangers! Surely it is of no harm to let them in?"

At this point I did not even care what Daven had to say, my eyes were frantically on Jaime hoping he would not twist the knife his was now gripping hardly in Daven's eye or something of the sort.

But just as I thought he was about to burst I could visibly see him calm suddenly. His shoulders relaxed, his eyes forewent the intensity they had just a moment ago held and his let the knife fall out of his fingers loosely.

"You are mistaken, cousin, if you think I do not inform my wife of everything there is to know. It is just something I much prefer explaining to her in private."

Daven nodded in some sort of defeat, but not without a victorious smirk that suggested that he had perhaps gotten what he wanted out of that exchange.

"And now that you have reminded me of the matter you have so...graciously brought back to my attention, I beg to take your leave and retire with my wife. There is, as you have stated, much to discuss." Continued Jaime, and I did not even have enough time to gesture to my guests that I wished to bid them a good night before I was awarded with the sight of my husband's back exiting the hall.

As I trotted after my stormy husband I wondered in earnest if would be at risk of facing another...tantrum. The last time I had seen anyone get to him was when he had gone to see Edmure Tully that one time, and that one time was almost enough to break whatever faith I had in him.

And even though I followed him blindly through the halls knowing we would be in the privacy of our suites, far from anyone to her me should I scream, I still wondered whether I was in any danger from my own husband.

How curious must that be? This is a man I see every day. A man that makes love to me with vigor and inspires a lust in me for things I had never known I wanted. A man whose hands drape around my body while I sleep and his fingers trace around my neck when he kisses me. But he always also the same man that pushed against a table and had attempted, in a blind fit of rage, to use me harshly. And even though I had said he was forgiven, which I truly thought he was, I can't completely forget it. Not even if I wanted to.

Once we had reached our rooms Jaime waited for me to enter before closing the door behind us and pacing hurriedly by the sofa. He was not even looking at me. I stood still as I waited.

When he finally stopped he looked at me with a sort of regret, and proceeded to sit down in his accustomed spot on the sofa,

"Won't you sit down? I suppose there is much we ought to discuss."

Instead of taking my assumed position by his side, I found my feet freeze when I had arrived in front of him and I hesitantly bent down until I was sat at the floor by his feet, like a cat. I rested my back on the sofa and lay my head by his knee as I felt his hesitant fingers sift through my hair and my own draw aimless circles on his knee cap.

I looked up at him already peering down at me,

"I am listening"

Jaime

As he began to explain to Lorraine the important discussion he had had earlier that evening he could not help but relay it all in his head like it was unfolding before him again.

"I can't say the council sounds particularly...enticing. Nor the idea of court as it so currently stands. But who am I to refuse my King?"

"While I know you won't be the most exemplary Hand, it is not what worries me most."

"And what worries you, cousin?"

"You know."

Daven leaned back in his seat, looking past Jaime's shoulder into some unkown point in the sea.

"Yes.

They were both silent, waiting for whichever one would dare to elaborate first. Whilst Jaime was sure they were both on the same plane of understanding he knew there was no shortage of secrets on both their parts, he would await the clarification.

And finally, Devon had regained his hard stare and returned it to Jaime.

"The ironborn. No slow movers, i'll admit."

"They'e been surprisingly quick pillaging the North which, as you know, is too vast and the ironborn too vain to be done with so swiftly. They're moving down, and it's with purpose."

"And what do you suggest we do? The Capital is in disarray, at a near war itself with the Faith Militant, what match are they to pirates?"

"They don't want the Capital. They can't, at least not now."

"Then what do they want?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe they've just been too quiet for too long, their balls are itching."

Silence reigned once more for a short while before Daven continued thoughtfully.

"If you say they don't want the Capital why would you bring this matter to my attention?" Jaime was almost stunned at his answer. If he had not known Daven's dislike for holding more heavy burdens to him he would call him insolent -not that Jaime had ever paid much mind to insolence.

"Because it concerns you. What happens in the West concerns the crown, just as what happens in the Riverlands."

"If you're so convinced they don't want the Capital what makes you so sure they'd want the West at all?"

"Because the chances of them having it are far greater." He found it strange, looking at Daven from the same seat in which he watched his father work for years. Was he destined to become like him? Shaking off the thoughts, he continued,

"The Sunset Sea leaves us exposed, we're one of the smaller Kingdoms and we're just on their way but not too far down south. And as far as they know we are rolling in riches and rubies and gold."

Now looking around his study, Daven looked upon the hanging tapestries and the ornate walls before answering,

"They're not too wrong, cousin."

"I need you to bring this matter to the council. Send a fleet out for our defenses and a host of men to arm the borders and push back the pillagers out of the Riverlands."

"What then?"

"What do you mean?"

"They'll be back in the North-"

"We'll drive them out of the North."

"The North needs to be left alone right now."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Even there were any plans for the North the ironborn must be put to rest immediately. I've had enough of those damned pirates and their drowned god."

Daven looked at Jaime suspiciously,

"What do you have planned, Jaime?"

Choosing to speak thoughtfully and with care to his words for added diplomacy in his conversation, Jaime explained,

"Things needn't be so delicate much longer. The North must have a solution, no one will respect a King who in addition to allowing his own wife to be imprisoned on false charges would let a handful of his Kingdoms get pillaged and his largest Kingdom run wild in wars and attacks and a sadistic Warden."

He could not tell exactly, but he sensed a small smile grace Daven's face,

"I did not know you cared so, cousin."

He thought about what that meant as Lorraine took in his information. He had never cared, why now? Some part of him felt like he owed it to Tommen, some part of him felt like it was his twisted way of honouring his father, and an even smaller part of him felt like he was protecting the realm for Lorraine, for their children.

He wondered, as he spoke of the matters discussed, just exactly when it had all gone sour.

"Do you think they know about the mines?"

"The ironborn are imbiciles, Daven, but even they know about the mines."

"Not that they exist, but about what gold is left." It was then that Jaime had eyes Daven suspiciously,

"What do you mean?" Daven laughed at Jaime's incredulous expression.

"Oh, cousin! You needn't worry. You did not think i'd have been made Warden and not been made aware of the dry mines?"

He knew it was the truth. And he knew he could not lie. But it sounded unsavory, and it sounded like he was being taunted for it.

"We have other means-"

"Not enough to fund a war, old Lion."

"And what is it exactly you propose we do? Hmm?"

"Call in the debts from the crown, surely"

"Demand money from my nephew, a boy newly crowned?"

"There is no room for a high horse on a tight ship, cousin. I can't pretend to know too much but I do bel-"

"Enough of this."

"But you aske-"

"Enough."

Lorraine drew his attention back as she climbed onto the seat next to him, obviously deep in thought. Jaime knew he should not kept the information about the approaching Ironborn from her for so long but he did not want her to worry, nor did he want to lie to her by saying it was no real threat. For the most part, it was unlikely it would be a real threat as the Ironborn were never known to usually venture this far south and they had always been crushed. But now they were under Euron Greyjoy's leadership, and his savage reputation preceded him. Jaime had never feared the idea of a war or a fight, but he stood to lose more now he ever thought he had.

The last time the Ironborn ever ventured to the West they overtook Fair Isle and had to be forced out. He wondered if they would strike there again, and how much worry that would instill in Lorraine since her sister was now living there? In a brief moment of selfishness he wondered if he would have to accommodate her sister and her husband here if things got to that, or whether he would have to send them away all together, including Lorraine for her own safety. The Gods must surely hate me.

"Should I be worried?" It was the question that he feared the most. He had already told so many lies by omission but he now believed they were all to protect her, to keep her, would he lie to her now?

"I don't know, my darling." He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers and twisted a stray hair in one of them. He hoped they would not have to separate, for he would miss the dark strings of muddy brown intertwined in his hands.

She smiled at him somberly and he tried to return a more cheerful smile in hopes of keeping her from a grim mood.

"What will happen?"

"I'm still not sure, we're still discussing that. But I plan on ordering men to head up to the Riverlands as soon as possible to start attacking, as well as strengthen the defense of the borders."

"What about the Sea?" Her worry was obvious, her eyes almost welled up.

"That's where they came from last time, so it's unlikely they'll come the same way. There's no need to cause unnecessary panic, but if we begin to suspect they'll attack there I assure you and your sister will be kept safe -be it here or elsewhere, you'll be safe."

"And you?"

"I'm almost offended you're worried about me."

She jumped on him and held him tightly to her in a close embrace, digging her face in his neck.

"And on the other hand, I find your concern quite sweet." At that she moved her face back to look at him, their noses touching slightly, her breath hot on his.

"As is every part of you." He whispered.

And then she kissed him with a kind of desperation he did not know she had ever contained.

He rolled them over on the sofa so that he was pressing Lorraine beneath him, grinding his hips against her as she moaned. He wanted her, he had always wanted her, but not like this. He pulled away to look at her once more, stroking her hair,

"You're not...really worried, are you?" And he had his answer when the woman who had an answer for everything could not even look at him.

He had her now, he was in a place he never knew he needed to be and he could feel it slip away. He did not want the memory of her face to be marred with fear, nor did he want to think about her waiting for him -biting her nails and anticipating news. Somehow it did not suit her. Lorraine could never wear sorrow or worry very well, no, he thought, she is only fit for the sun and warm the night breeze.

He leaned down to kiss her once more,

"Gods and men could not keep me from you, wife." And once again she laughed, the laugh he was always subtly desperate to hear. The laugh he had heard the first time he had ever laid eyes on her.

Now touching her with renewed passion, his fingers grazed at her thighs roughly once he had slipped them under her gown and she in turn pulled at his doublet. He kissed down her neck and onto her chest as he removed her smallclothes and she tried to in turn reach for his breeches but her hands were too short.

"You need not rush" He laughed as he looked up at her, glowing with want.

He swallowed her upcoming giggle, he could taste it in her mouth. The vibrations tantalizing against his tongue, she tasted like peaches. As he swirled his tongue against hers he unlaced his breeches and pressed himself against her, relishing in the feeling of closeness -of intimacy. She opened her legs for him so naturally as if she were a blooming flower and he was the sunlight. He had never thought of himself as anyone's sunlight.

As he entered her he kept his eyes on her face and found her eyes in turn staring back at him. He watched as her mouth slowly opened and the groan of pleasure slowly left her lips knowing it was him causing it, and proceeded to enter her again with a strong thrust just to see her react again. Every thrust from then on gained him a different sight, a different sound, and he continued on that way until she herself could not take it any longer. She rolled her hips desperately against him begging him to pick up the pace and satisfy her with release and he feigned ignorance by continuing on with his torturous pace and dug his head in the crevice of her breasts. Taking initiative on her own on the path to her own end, his wife effectively rolled him off of the couch and onto the floor so she could land on top of him and adjust herself as she took all of his length in.

He now wore a wicked grin, impressed by the strength of her desire as she rode up his length in a fast pace. She grabbed at his collar to steady herself and she grind up on him on every thrust and her eyes closed as she took in all the pleasure in shocking waves. Jaime moved his hands up to her hips to help her keep up her desired pace and he slowly felt himself lose control with every grunt she awarded him with. He was slipping away to pleasure and could not hold on for much longer. He squinted hard, trying to retain himself just long enough for Lorraine to reach her end, but when he opened his eyes he found her staring back at him already -and he knew exactly what she wanted.

With a load groan he climaxed into her warmth, emptying himself completely and swimming in pleasure. And as his eyes were awake with fulfillment he watched as Lorraine's face contorted as he spilled his seed in her and she rolled her eyes back in pleasure as she came to her own end, grabbing even tighter on his collar as she clenched around him.

When she had calmed she lay her head on his chest and they breathed in silence, their sighs and moans echoed in the room and lust filled the hot air around them. He kissed her dark head of hair and thought to himself that now, he was home. And there is not a thing he would not kill for it to always remain that way.