Rosamund

"You must be strong," she told her brother as she kissed him on the forehead. I'm the one being sent away, but he's the one crying. She could not blame him for that either. Today was the day that had been set for her to finally leave King's Landing. She would be leaving this life in King's Landing, and beginning her adventure to start a new one in Dorne.

Trystane was already waiting on the ship, Seaswyft, the fastest of the royal fleet that still remained in King's Landing. Her mother and uncle had worried that their ship may be intercepted by uncle Stannis's men as they passed by Dragonstone, so they would be traveling with ten ships to escort them. Uncle Tyrion had assured her though that he didn't think it likely they would be attacked by Stannis. All his strength was still at Storm's End, laying siege after all. Her father's other brother, Renly, had been killed too, though how remained unclear. She had been fond of Renly, and now his castallen was holding out at Storm's End, forcing Stannis to stay there until the castle fell.

She had said goodbye to Joff first, and he had been polite to her. He always could be polite enough when he needed to be, but she could always see the more angry look in his eyes. It was plain to her that he did not want her to remain in King's Landing any longer. A part of her hoped this would be the last time she ever had to see him again. If she could live the rest of her life without seeing her brother again, only having Myrcella and Tommen, she could be content.

But it was Tommen who worried her more. "Promise me you will," she said, wiping away the tears from his emerald green eyes.

"I will…" He replied, but with how softly he spoke, it didn't really reassure her.

"Perhaps mother will allow you to visit sometime," she told him. She didn't think it was very likely. Her going to Dorne was already dangerous enough, and Tommen was the heir to the throne. If anything happened to him, that would mean Myrcella or little Eddard or Uncle Stannis would be heir. Myrcella or her older son being on the Iron Throne didn't seem so bad to Rosamund, though of course she wouldn't want anything to happen to Tommen. She thought any one of them would make for a better ruler than her older brother, but she knew better than to say that aloud. Especially in King's Landing.

Her words seemed to cheer him up a little at least. She didn't need him to say anything to know he was imagining what it would be like to go to Dorne, and perhaps for them to pay a visit to Myrcella. One day, she hoped, thinking of how the Young Wolf had sent peace terms to King's Landing. Uncle Tyrion had told her the terms were unacceptable, though perhaps a peace could be made in time. With Dorne in the fold, he had said perhaps peace can come a little sooner. And her marriage had been the key to that.

"Goodbye," she told him one last time, before turning to her mother. She was wearing a red and gold dress, with her emerald crown, that made her look beautiful. Like a queen should, Rosamund supposed.

"You look wonderful, dear," her mother said, kissing her on the cheek, and Rosamund forced herself to smile a little.

"Thank you mother," she said. They embraced each for only a few seconds, and then she began to turn away, walking to the ship. Her uncle was speaking a few words to the captain, while the princess took her place on the stern of the ship, waiting for them to leave.

As the ship began to move, she could see her mother, uncle, and brothers all clearly standing on the docks. Rosamund waved goodbye for a time, blinking as little as possible, taking in the last sight of what had been her home, as it faded from view. She remained there a while afterwards, until Ser Arys came to her.

"Are you well, princess?" the white knight asked. He was a comely man, with brown eyes and lighter hair. Strong and brave and honorable. A true knight. Trystane had a sworn sword of his own, Ser Gascoyne of the Greenblood, who had come to King's Landing with him when Lord Arryn had agreed for him to be taken as a page in court. Rosamund prayed neither would prove to be of need during their journey though.

First they would be sailing to Braavos, and then from there they would be safe according to Tyrion. If Uncle Stannis attacked them then, he would be angring the powers of the greatest of the nine Free Cities then, he said. And after that, they would be able to continue on to Dorne, unmolested. Each of the ships carried a dozen guards total, which she thought seemed at least a little bit absurd. One hundred and twenty guards, which she knew from how much her mother had seemed obsessed with it in the days before father had died was more than they'd had then. Only Tyrion arriving with his hill clansmen from the Vale and several hundred more guards from grandfather had been there to shore things up, though as far as she knew, almost all of those who weren't going with her had previously been sent to escort her cousin, Ser Cleos Frey, back to Robb Stark's army at Riverrun.

"Yes," she lied. She already felt a little seasick, even though she never had before in the past. Or at least she wished it was only seasickness. Deep down, Rosamund sensed it was something more than that. The sooner we arrive at Sunspear, the better. She had been a fool, but she had felt it better than entertaining the fancies of Morros Slynt or allowing herself to be shipped off to the Vale to marry Jon Arryn's sickly son who was quite a few years her junior. Dorne had been the only kingdom save for the Iron Islands that she had never traveled to before, and she was glad for the adventure.

The Slynt boy had mentioned the possibility of marrying her to her face, not long after Joff had ordered Lord Eddard to be killed. Apparently it was a notion that her mother was considering, he said, though when she asked, her mother denied it vehemently. Not long after, Lord Tyrion had sent Lord Janos to the Wall though, and stripped the family of Harrenhal, and he told her not to worry about it. The idea of marrying her to sickly little Robert Arryn had been her uncle's idea, and one that she had cringed upon hearing about it. According to him though, the plan was always for her to marry Trystane anyway, and that the plan involving her marrying Lord Arryn's son was just a ploy to test the loyalty of some members of the Small Council, so all of this had been for naught, she supposed. Uncle wouldn't lie to me about it would he? He wouldn't pretend like he had always been planning to marry me to Trystane to cover up the fact that somebody found out about us?

"You don't look well," he said.

Rosamund shrugged. "So be it." It's not going to be easy where I'm going.

She started away from the rail, looking for Trystane, and eventually found him below deck in their quarters, setting up a game of cyvasse. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

"Care to play?" he asked her.

"Sure," she said. I don't have much else to do at the moment. Myrcella had taught her how to play Cyvasse as a girl, when she had taken one of her trips back to King's Landing from Winterfell, but she had never learned where Trystane was taught how to play.

Rosamund began to arrange her pieces to start, taking note of how Trystane had already set his up. She knew his strategy well enough by now, but still had yet to find a way to beat it.

"Are you ready?" he asked when she finally looked up.

She nodded, and made her first move, bringing forward one of her elephants.

They played silently, as they often did. The game seemed to take several hours, with them carefully thinking through each and every move- though in reality it couldn't have been more than one. This time, she won.

"Another round?" he asked after. She tried to read his big brown eyes, but wasn't sure what he was thinking still. He is still a stranger to me, even though we are wed.

She shook her head. "I… I have something to tell you…"

"What is it?"

"I… I…" She couldn't quite bring herself to say the words aloud.

"What's happened?"

"C-come here," she told him.

Trystane did as she asked, walking around the Cyvasse table, looking over here. "Is something wrong?" he sat down next to her, looking over her, concerned, trying to figure out what was wrong.

She grabbed his hand to place it on her tummy, pressing down to reveal it wasn't quite flat. It had grown, just the tiniest bit. Enough that it had started to become noticeable whenever she was naked at least.

He was silent for a moment, and then his eyes widened as he realized what he was telling her. "You… you're…"

Rosamund nodded. Her mother had forbidden them from sharing a bed after they had wed, whilst still in King's Landing. After they had been caught with one another, her mother had been furious, and threatened to geld Trystane. Only Uncle Tyrion had been able to talk her down from that, and convinced her that a Dornish alliance was needed. "Let them wed," he had said. "Their marriage shall heal the rift between our two houses."

"Small good that served us with Ned Stark," had been her mother's only response before storming off. Yet it had served them some good.

Her uncle had explained that their marriage was the finishing touch on a large proposal that he had made with Prince Doran. According to him, the Lord of Sunspear had looked like he was going to declare for Renly, and had marshaled his forces in the passes, indicating that they might be marching to war. So he aimed to secure the prince's loyalties for their family, with the offer of some lands and castles of course, as well as coin, some honors, the head of Ser Gregor Clegane (which she never quite understood), a seat on the Small Council and her marriage to Trystane. It seemed just a little bit excessive to her, but her uncle had said it was all necessary. With my hand in marriage and children being what the pact is sealed with, she thought to herself.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he asked, sitting down next to her. There was a little frustration in his tone, but mostly shock..

"My mother… she… she wouldn't have been-" she started.

"-Pleased?" he finished, with a knowing look in his eyes. "That won't matter in Dorne," he assured her.

"Can you tell me about your mother?" she asked. She and Trystane had not been allowed much time together since the wedding, and had seldom spoken before. "Is… is she kinder than mine?"

"I scarcely know her," he admitted, shrugging "She returned to Norvos when I was seven. Not long before father sent me to court."

"Oh," Rosamund said. Her father had seldom been present in her life, but she had a hard time imagining what it would be like without her mother. "W-what's her name?" Uncle Tyrion had told her at some point. Melanie or Mylenda, she thought, trying to remember.

"Mellario."

"Mellario," she echoed. A pretty name. "Perhaps we could visit her… after the baby is born."

Trystane pondered the notion. "Mayhaps," he said. "My father though…"

"What about him?"

"Mother returned to Norvos because of my father's plans," he told her. "Quentyn was fostered at Yronwood and Arianne in Tyrosh. Fostering children isn't custom in Novos, you see. She protested vehemently both times. When my father suggested that I would be sent to court to serve as a royal page, she told him she would leave Westeros, and did." He snorted a little. "They wed for love once, but all I ever remember is them arguing."

Rosamund had been only a girl when Myrcella had gone to Winterfell, but she still remembered how her mother and father had fought that entire night, just as her mother and uncle fought over her marriage. Her mother's voice had been completely gone the next morning, while did not see King Robert that next day at all. Myrcella had departed with Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn less than a week after that. "My mother and father never loved each other," she said. "Father was to marry Lady Lyanna Stark, until she was taken by Prince Rhaegar. After Lord Eddard returned, my grandfather suggested my mother as a bride."

Trystane nodded. She could tell he already knew the story well enough, so she did not dwell on the details. Rosamund had always wondered whether her mother and father might have been able to be happy had Lady Lyanna lived. Mother would most likely have wed some knight or lord in the west, for better or worse, and she was not likely to exist at all. Rosamund tended to avoid thinking about that part.

They had a silent exchange between them, and Rosamund could tell they were both thinking the same thing. Trystane put his hand on her belly for a moment before kissing her on the lips. A short kiss, but sweet.

When they finished, he went back over to his side of the table. "Care for a rematch?"

Rosamund grinned, thinking of several ways she might have wanted to torment him if she won. "Oh yes, Trystane. A rematch would be good."

She won that round, and the next, and the one after that, until it seemed that it was almost night time, judging by the mustering of the crew for supper.

The evening that followed was not the most pleasant she'd ever known. After eating supper, Rosamund went below, reading for a while, until she felt so sick that she went back up to the deck, which caused her to throw up all of her supper over the railing.

"Are you sick, princess?" Ser Arys asked.

"You asked me that earlier," Rosamund reminded him. She began to realize the thing that she probably would miss the most while at Sunspear, which was the fact that there were people who might call her anything but princess. Amongst her family, she could just be Rosamund, or sometimes Rosa, when they wanted to be a little bit affectionate. Maybe she could get Trystane to do that too for her, but a man like Ser Arys Oakheart lived for the honor of his white cloak. He'd never call her Rosa, even if she asked him to. The only other who might have was Septa Eglantine, but Rosamund never counted on the septa for warmth or love. When the septa called her by her name, it was to chide her or scold her for something- certainly not meant to be taken as affectionate. "I thought I told you I was fine."

"Yes, and now you're throwing up into the sea," he pointed out. "Do you need to take you to a maester? Do we have to go back?"

"No," Rosamund said, going red with embarrassment. "Mother will be furious."

"And why's that, princess? You got too scared to face this new adventure and decided you couldn't bring yourself to leave your home?"

I told Trystane. I suppose I can tell him now. "It's because I'm with child," she said. "Mother will be angry because I didn't listen to her." The morning after her wedding, Rosamund had been visited by her mother, who had brought a cup of some strange looking liquid. Moon tea, her mother had called it. It was supposed to keep her from getting with child, and she was to drink a cup of it every morning, even after nights when she and Trystane hadn't fucked. Her mother had told her that she was to drink it every day until her sixteenth nameday. On that day, she would be free to decide if she wanted to keep drinking it or not, and have children, but otherwise her mother had forbidden her from getting with child before then, since she was too young and it was too dangerous. Only problem was that even then, Rosamund knew her moon's blood was late, so she found a way to put the potion somewhere other than her mouth every morning.

The white knight gawked at her. "With child, princess?"

"What?" she replied, trying not to sound nervous or hesitant. "Did you think I was going to remain innocent forever, ser?"

He looked utterly confused. "Your grace. You're just a child yourself…"

"Myrcella was even younger," she pointed out, even though it wasn't entirely true. Myrcella had not married Robb Stark until the day of her fourteenth nameday, and their little Eddard had not come for a little more than a year after that, when Myrcella was fifteen. But Myrcella had taken Robb's daughter as her own when she had just turned thirteen. "I'll manage."

Ser Arys offered her a hand, which she ended up agreeing to take. "Your mother is right," he said, "it is dangerous."

"So is war," she pointed out. She leaned a little bit closer towards him. "I know why they chose you to escort me to Dorne- and why you always would get charged with me."

"Do you now?" the white knight replied. "Why would that be, princess?"

"Well…" Rosamund began to say, "you've always been the only knight on the Kingsguard who seemed to really care. Not even Ser Jaime, who seems to love my mother more than anything ever cared. Myrcella had Ser Merlon, Joff had the Hound, and I got to have you. But you've always seemed to care a lot more, like I was a daughter to you."

Ser Arys Oakheart was very slow to respond, but she knew that her words had gotten through to him. "Do you… truly, see me as a father?" he finally asked.

"Yes," she confessed. "You're more like a father than my actual father ever was." She remembered stories of Kingsguard knights who had fallen in love with their charges. Men like Prince Aemon the Dragonknight who was said to have loved his sister, Queen Naerys with all his heart and had been heartbroken by the fact that she married their brother, King Aegon the Unworthy. The life of a Kingsguard knight was one of service and duty. That was why they were forced to take vows to take no wives or father children, just like those of the Night's Watch. Their job was to protect the royal family at all costs. But what if they love a princess as though they were their father? She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you are my white knight, ser."

That also seemed to make him uncomfortable. "If you're seasick, princess, what helps is looking ahead," he said, leading her to the bow of the ship. "Just look at the horizon."

So she did. They were there together at first, until Ser Arys disappeared from her side, but told her to stay there. A little while later, he came back with some food, and encouraged her to eat it so she wouldn't sleep on an empty stomach, before staring at the horizon for at least another hour or so, until her stomach felt like it had settled.

Rosamund began to slowly snuggle up to Ser Arys, who stayed with her the whole time after she ate. It was improper for her as a princess, of course, but she felt better about expressing her true feelings now. At Sunspear, she might have been able to develop new friendships and bonds to replace the ones she was leaving behind, but she doubted there were any that could match Ser Arys in her life.

"I wish I was as brave as you, ser," she told him, as the stars were beginning to come out. "But I'm a coward, just in my own way."

"Why's that?"

"Well… I seduced Trystane at first to make sure I would get married to him, instead of someone else. Morros Slynt thought we were going to marry, but he was well… Morros. So I got myself into Trystane's bed, gave him my maidenhead, and a few times after that, so that I could force mother to marry me off to him, but I didn't even have the courage for it." Rosamund exhaled deeply. "Uncle Tyrion arranged for our marriage anyway, so I guess it worked out, but apparently there was this plot to test the loyalty of the other councilors, and that's why Grand Maester Pycelle is imprisoned."

"Can't say I blame you, princess," he said. "Bravery is one thing. Facing your mother's wrath… that's not something many who know her would be willing to do."

"Yes," she agreed. "There's all this talk of alliance though, and peace. I didn't want that with our family. I just wanted to make sure I wouldn't get married off to someone who I thought was repugnant."

"Are you happy with Trystane?" he asked. "Do you like being married to him?"

"I don't really know," she confessed. For the first time, they could at least be open in their feelings together. Even after they had married in King's Landing, she still mostly stayed in her own bed and didn't spend much time with Trystane, which was how he was still such a stranger to her, even after all this time. "I'd rather be married to him than Morros Slynt… but compared to other options… I can't say…"

"Maybe you should find out then?" he suggested. "Go on, you should get some sleep. The gods know you need rest in your present state."

"Could you do me a favor?" she asked.

"What sort of favor?"

"Could you refrain from telling Septa Eglantine until we've arrived at Sunspear?"

He chuckled, "Why? So you'll have an entire castle to hide from her?"

"No," she said, immediately. Discipline rarely involved anything physical now that she was older- and she doubted the septa would want to be remembered as the woman who beat a princess so hard that she caused a miscarriage. "I just prefer her to not know while we're on the sea, that's all."

"You should go below deck," he said. "When you wake up, we should already be past Dragonstone."

"Right," she agreed. "Maybe you could tuck me in tonight? Read me a bedtime story?"

"Rosamund."

"I want to be brave like you, ser," she reminded him. "I guess that starts with the little things, doesn't it?" Like not hiding my feelings anymore.

Unfortunately, Trystane was already in bed when they got to her cabin- which immediately dashed her hopes. She wasn't even given a kiss goodnight as she left him at the door. Instead, she was just supposed to join her husband.

Rosamund was also not at all in the mood, which was something she had to tell him right away. She was heading about as far away as possible from the person she really wanted to be with that night- which was her sister. Her uncle had told her that Myrcella was in fact with child again at Winterfell too, which had made her want to go there even more. Does Myrcella feel happy where she is now? Is she lonely with her Robb off at war? Surely she must be stressed and worried about potential news that a single letter might bring. If there was anyone who she could entrust with her own secrets, it was her big sister, and it was that comfort she craved now.

Unfortunately, while Trystane did not force himself on her, that didn't stop him from trying to get her in the mood with his words. She figured eventually he would stop once she began snoring- one of the things she was always glad for. Mother always wanted her to be every bit the proper princess, as beautiful and ladylike as possible, just like her, yet the one thing that she did that infuriated her mother was snoring, which she apparently did almost as loudly as her father.

Rosamund didn't remember falling asleep, but she did remember dreaming. She dreamt of a man and a woman in a world far beyond her own, who grieved for the daughter they had given up so that she could not be claimed by the king- their only child no less. It felt like there was something familiar to them, but she couldn't say what. Rohanne, their child had been called. Their sweet little Rohanne, who they would never see again. Who would go an entire lifetime without them, leaving her mother and father with naught but sorrow.

When she woke up all covered in sweat, Rosamund began to cry. She got out of bed and made her way to the corner of the room. There she kept crying, cradling her only little baby that was hardly even there. Something about the dream haunted her. It kept haunting her all night.

Author Notes:

This chapter does take place chronologically before the first Jeyne chapter, so keep that in mind. Rosamund doesn't know about Myrcella's "death" or anything. Rosamund is 14 here, and Trystane is 15…

For the ASOIAF readers/GOT watchers who are confused, in this I sort've pulled a concept from a now deleted ficlet that I had written about Rosamund. Essentially, she is Jaime and Cersei's daughter, rather than Myrcella's body double (since Myrcella is much older and married to Robb). With some toying of ages, Rosamund is third in the birth order, after Myrcella and Joffrey but before Tommen.

Thanks for reading!