The Southern dresses were definitely easier to move in than her Northern ones. The flowing skirt and non-existent sleeves encouraged movement as she fluttered about the castle, talking to people with a cheerful smile on her face. This was what she could do, what she was good at.

The general well-being of the castle had been, for so many years, left up to the Maester of Castlerly Rock, but Merilyn wanted to be the real Lady. She had risen early every day, sought out the kitchen staff, the waiting staff, every stable boy, every scullery girl, intent upon getting every name and having every face know her own. She knew Maester Culwin was irritated with her. He was not used to being forced to go through a chain-of-command, having to ask someone's permission. His dislike for her was obvious. But she was determined to make him like her. She was determined to have all of the inhabitants of Castlerly Rock like her, and that included her Good Father.

His dislike for her had been even more obvious than Maester Culwin's was, as Lord Tywin had no need to hide behind courtesy or fake manners.

In fact, he took full advantage of his superior status, commenting often on her shortcomings and Northern countenance. The first meeting with him had been stilted, based upon his circling of her with his hawk eyes and haughty gaze. Then he had curtly dismissed her from the room. As she left, she heard him mutter to Jaime that though she brought nothing to the family at least she might prove to be a good breeder.

The Stark in her bristled at that statement. Every lecture her father had ever given her washed over her in that moment. She was worth more than the children she would bear. Women were the structure a household was built upon, the strength behind a husband, the nurturer for all children – not just her own. For the sake of the gods, Tywin's own daughter acted the complete opposite of a breeding mule if the Court gossip was true!

Merilyn met his glare every time following their first meeting, refusing to cower to this man. She watched him and Jaime around the grounds, as she flitted about the castle. It was nothing like her own father and brothers' relationships.

There was no hint of approval ever reflected in Tywin's eyes as he looked upon his eldest son, no happiness or joy that the man standing next to him was his own blood, only a biting disapproval and shame at the relation. The relationship instead reminded her of the old Bannermen who would taunt Robb when they came up to Winterfell. She was always angry on Robb's behalf, angry that such old and worn out men would dare to question Robb's abilities, but he'd always shrugged and let it roll off his back. He told her once they needed to taunt him, to push him in order to feel still needed, still necessary. Tywin was subtle about it, his taunts and prods. There were far more skilled and less uncouth unlike the Northern Bannermen. But still held a bite that would make lesser men cringe. Jaime took it all calmly, without blinking. His acceptance gave her another piece of his character portrait that she was secretly putting together in her mind.

She understood that first night in Castlerly Rock more clearly now.

It had been a week since they had partaken in marital duties, a week since the night of suffocating heat. They shared a bed, something she was dearly grateful for, since her husband could have his own room and only come to her when necessary to copulation. But he chose to sleep with her, never touching, but still close. And she took comfort in that fact. After sleeping with another body her whole life, she couldn't imagine being alone at night. Maybe he knew that. He seemed to know things without her telling him sometimes. She felt hope that maybe Jaime and she could have a marriage like her parents, like his own parents seemed to have had from what the servants had told her about them.

"M'lady?" Willas appeared suddenly at her side.

She turned away from the window, where she had been observing her husband instructing one of the stable boys about a horse, and looked at the man in front of her.

Willas had obviously been given the post at Castlerly Rock that he had requested from Jaime when she'd been fake-sleeping. She had a feeling Tywin or Jaime had given him the task of watching over her, for he had a habit of appearing at odd times throughout the day.

"Yes, Willas?" she smiled warmly. He was hardly older than she was and had the normal Southern countenance she was growing familiar with. Golden-haired and blue-eyed, he could've easily passed for a younger Jaime.

"Maester Culwin and the Healer have a disagreement they need you to settle."

She sighed and resisted rolling her eyes, "All right, where are they?"

Willas turned and walked down the stone steps, his boots echoing loudly. This time Merilyn didn't stifle the urge and rolled her eyes, following behind far more quietly.

He recognized the fury on her face from several weeks ago. She was gesturing angrily from Maester Culwin to a young girl he recognized from the kitchens. Culwin reached for the girl and Merilyn stepped in front of him, shielding her. He saw that Culwin's anger was steadily rising from being overruled and stepped down the stairs out of the cover of the doorway. Both of them stopped yelling midsentence and looked up at him. He smirked and looked from one to the other.

"Care to explain?" He drawled, taking another step down the stairs.

Merilyn gazed back at him defiantly, not stepping away from the girl; "Maester Culwin wishes to force Ebohny from Castlerly Rock for being with child."

"The girl is carrying a bastard. She's unmarried –"

"And alone! If you exile her from Castlerly Rock, where will she go?" Merilyn's hair came out in small strands and her cheeks flushed from her frustration. Jaime saw the Stark beauty again in sharp vision.

"She should've thought of that before spreading her whore legs. She will do nothing but taint the Honour of this House," Culwin hissed, looking over Merilyn's shoulder at the crying girl. Jaime noticed for the first time the girl looked very young. And resembled the youngest Stark girl. Understanding flooded him then.

Merilyn stepped towards Culwin threateningly, "And what of the man that fathered that child? Will you force him out as well?"

"The girl will go." Jaime stepped forward cutting off any further argument, "Tyrion's home down by the Coast needs a new scullery maid." Culwin smirked and leaned back on his heels pompously. Jaime wanted to knock the man off his feet, but ignored him.

Merilyn opened her mouth angrily, but he held up a hand and she shut it.

"Willas," Jaime called to the man standing off to the side who had been watching passively the last few minutes, "take the girl, make arrangements. You're in charge of this."

Wills reached out to the shaking girl and smiled kindly. As the two walked away, Jaime turned back to the Maester, "You can leave now."

Merilyn gave him a scathing look and made to follow the Maester, but Jaime grabbed her arm. He waited until Culwin disappeared up the stairs before turning his attention fully to his wife.

"How could you even –," She began to hiss.

"It was noble of you to want to protect the girl, my little wife. But you obviously don't understand. What exactly were you going to do with the girl? Keep her here?"

"She's a child! She doesn't deserve to be exiled away from the only home she's known!"

"Your bleeding heart is beautiful –"

Merilyn ripped her arm from his grip, "You've sentenced this girl to a lifetime of being a pariah because of some man taking what wasn't freely offered. And he certainly won't suffer the consequences the way she will."

"But, yet, you would sentence her to a lifetime of whispers and judgment. As soon as she starts to show, every person she's ever considered a friend will both silently and vocally condemn her. No one will be a safe harbor and everyone will know of her sin. I offered, instead, a new beginning. She can create whatever story she wants of a dead husband and a future for her child. She will be free from whatever nightmares she would face here. Tyrion's home is full of the outcasts. She's safe there. Culwin thinks he's won. When you have, in reality. You wanted her safe. Now she is."

Her chest rose and fell as she panted, his words sinking slowly into her mind. Her body relaxed as she thought about it. He saw her eyes dart up to his and knew he had won the argument.

"Culwin won't ever accept me if my husband continually –"

Jaime scoffed, "Culwin won't ever accept you. Culwin loves and accepts no one but my dear father. Pick a different battle, one that you're more likely to win."

Merilyn was silent for a moment and then nodded, her eyes falling to the floor dutifully.

Jaime groaned inwardly. He had seen the fire in her promptly become doused again and replaced with the wifely duties she considered so important. Without a second thought, he stepped towards her and grabbed her, forcing her lips to meet his in a harsher kiss than he'd bestowed before.

His lips crashed to meet hers and all she knew was confusion.

She had been so angry when he hadn't supported her. But he had, in his own way, hadn't he?

She felt his mouth upon hers, hot and demanding and she responded, surprising herself greatly and even more so, Jaime. She was still angry, still shaking from it really. But she felt hot. The heat enveloped her – so different from the other night. This heat lit up the very tips of her fingertips and spurred her on. She wrapped her arms around Jaime's neck pulling herself closer to him. She relished the feel of his hands sliding up her hips.

She couldn't think about anything but the ache between her legs and instinctively she pressed her pelvis upwards, trying hard to relieve it. Jaime's grip on her hips tightened and she felt herself pushed against the wall. It was wet and cold from last night's rain and was an intense contrast from the heat spreading throughout her. Her hands moved upwards to his hair and she threaded her hands into it, not caring if it was okay with him or not. She wanted to feel it.

There was a cough at the top of the stairs and Merilyn broke away from the kiss, looking up.

There was an older woman standing up there looking highly uncomfortable. She couldn't remember her name. Her mind was foggy as she tried to wrestle the name from it. She still felt Jaime's hands and mouth on her and it snapped her back to reality.

"Septa Aliane!" She pushed against Jaime, not managing to even move him in the slightest but got his attention. He looked up at Aliane without embarrassment while Merilyn knew her own face was burning. She saw him grin up at her and felt like there was nothing that could make this moment worse.

Then her Good Father walked up behind Aliane.

Jaime's grin disappeared. But Tywin didn't take the moment to harp on their lack of propriety or any number of flaws that Merilyn felt were in this situation. Instead, he looked directly at Jaime.

"We have matters to discuss. We're leaving for King's Landing now."

He turned and walked away without another word.