The days following the wedding were like hurricanes condensed into a matter of hours. The death of the king had apparently had less of an affect on the residents of King's Landing but the effect on those dwelling in the Red Keep was a whole other magnitude. Cersei was seething, both with anger and sadness, accusing Tyrion Lannister of being responsible for his death and Rosalie was glad that Sansa was by her side, out of Cersei's line of sight and thus away from her wrath.
Rosalie had not spoken much with her grandmother, nor with her father and sister, Margaery had been swept away into mourning and into fresh plans, marriage to the next in line, Tommen and Rosalie was glad her older sister wasn't going to be cast aside by the capitol. Margaery wanted to be queen and queen it seemed she would become. Rosalie never understood it. That desire that Margaery, the need to be in control. Even with Renly, she was unhappy, not only because he had little sexual interest but because he wasn't the true King. But now, with the promise of the next King being hers, the boy king with his bright eyes and gentle demeanour and Rosalie pitied him. He was but a pawn in the Tyrell game now and though he was sweet, he was no longer her concern. Her primary concern, was getting herself and Sansa away from King's Landing, Jaime was more than welcome to join them but Rosalie knew of something that was about to happen and she knew better than remaining in King's Landing lying in wait for the storm to blow over. No, another storm was brewing, one that had extended across the Narrow Sea and from what Robb Stark had told her, carried with it a vengeance enough to level King's Landing.
Daenerys Stormborn, the last Targaryen, had set her gaze on King's Landing, set her vengeance on Cersei Lannister and allied herself with Robb Stark, who had joined her across the Narrow Sea. The last raven he'd sent to her had had a slightly twisted foot but the note was in a familiar code. Two ravens and a crown. Two to flee King's Landing. Sansa and Rosalie, before the real war began. There were also whispers in the North, some things unsettling, murmurs of wights and whitewalkers, armies of the dead and wildlings allied with those on the wall. Casterly Rock looked very appealing to Rosalie right now and even Sansa had voiced her unrest at the tales being brought to them by Varys' spies, he had taken a liking to Rosalie as well as being faced with the formidable force that was her grandmother, he knew than to go against either, as Rosalie was becoming quite resourceful, she was beginning to realise that when the war reached their shores, there was little chance that King's Landing would survive, Daenerys had dragons, three terrible beasts of fire and blood and terror and Rosalie was looking forward to meeting them. All her life she had been infatuated with tales of dragons and the sister wives of one of the Targaryens that had each ridden dragons. Because of that, tales she'd been told as a child, Rosalie knew that when the time came, she would ally herself with the dragon queen. They were of similar ages she knew and yet everything Rosalie had accomplished in her life paled in comparison to what Daenerys Targaryen had done.
She hadn't been speaking with Jaime after what she had witnessed at the Purple Wedding. He had attempted to speak to her, on many different occasions but she managed to otherwise avoid him like he had a sickness. In her eyes, he did. Incestuous relationships, though prevalent throughout many of the great houses over the ages, revolted her to the degree that even thinking about committing such acts made her stomach turn with disgust. She had thought Jaime to be better and though there clearly had been something between the two Lannister twins, enough to create not one but three children, she hadn't noticed it until now, until it was blatantly obvious. Sansa knew she was troubled, and had helped in keeping Jaime Lannister out of Rosalie's way as much as she could, though it was dangerous for her to be so bold, she cared little about the consequences when the person who provided her such happiness and protection was so forlorn. Tommen helped, though he was probably not aware of how helpful he was truly being. He awarded Rosalie one of his kittens, a sleek silver furred she-cat that Rosalie named Dusk, as her fur glinted that pale grey that came just as the sun set when sunlight glanced off of her pelt.
That was how Jaime eventually stumbled upon Sansa and Rosalie as they were outside playing with Dusk as the sun began to sink in the sky, the stars coming up. Rosalie was on her back, staring up at the clouds drifting listlessly through the early evening sky, bringing with them the smell of rain, rain to wash the stench of shit from King's Landing, even for just a night. Sansa was toying with the kitten, letting it chase one of her ribbons as she chuckled faintly, neither had noticed the approaching Kingslayer and given Rosalie's guards were nowhere to be found, it was lucky it was that had found them. But as usual, he had underestimated how aware Rosalie was of her surroundings as she didn't flinch when gravel crunched beneath his foot as Sansa did. The two girls eyed with, neither looking very friendly and he noticed that Sansa reached for Rosalie's unfurling fingers as Rosalie moved to sit, her spine straightening and her usually relaxed posture was a lot less loose than usual, her shoulders tight with tension and her knuckles were faintly white, the skin stretched tightly over the back of her hands. Her eyes were narrowed, just a touch but there was none of her usual warmth in her gaze. Something had ticked, something he was unsure of had solidified in her mind and she was waiting, waiting to spit her venom at him.
"Rosalie. Lady Stark." He acknowledged both of them, Sansa having the courtesy to smile faintly though Rosalie's gaze did not waver.
"What do you want Kingslayer?" Her tone was clipped and he nearly flinched at the use of Kingslayer, he couldn't recall if she'd called him it prior to today but there was a subsequent amount of hatred bubbling within her tone, enough that he noticed it plainly.
"I wished to make sure you were doing alright, your sister has noticed you have been quite absent at meals and such and had a word with me about-" Rosalie's eyes narrowed, fury brightening her gaze and for a moment, her eyes blazed a darker gold. How dare Margaery speak with Jaime about such private matters without her consent, she had never outed Margaery in any form and here was her sister, going behind her back and unsettling the delicate balance.
"Margaery has no right." Rosalie spit, her eyes burning though to her distress she could feel tears welling in the backs of her eyes, burning to emerge and her lip wobbled as she spoke. How could she? How dare he bring it up, as though it was something they could speak about, it was not his affair but yet, he was looking at her, pity shining in his pale eyes. She didn't want his pity. She wanted his respect and him to fear her anger but yet he was trying to soften her to him.
"She is your sister and I am to be your husband, it is within my right." His tone was gentle and for a brief moment, she wanted nothing more than to fly into his arms and let him make her feel better. But Rosalie had too much pride. Nodding at Sansa, the Stark girl stood, with a swish of skirts and she was gone. Jaime sat then, folding himself quite awkwardly in beside her with their knees brushing. Neither spoke, for the longest of times and Jaime wondered if she wanted to speak but couldn't bring herself to, as was his dilemma but for now, he was content in silence.
