The wedding and thus joining of Houses Tyrell and Lannister was in typical Rosalie fashion, quiet, simple and not the big hullabaloo Margaery always required. Rosalie was still rather snarled up at Margaery's actions, thus even Jaime was able to detect the frost radiating from the Tyrell. Her beauty was unparalleled, she was an exquisite goddess in comparison to the rest of the world he knew. However, she was quite sharp in nature and it was often too clear in the way she spoke but it did not deter him, he knew that at the moment she was struggling with her own mind and her opinions, of him, of her sister and of her future. Jaime thought that she was the strongest woman he had come to know, she had a strength within her that she didn't always wield as a weapon like Cersei did, but she kept it beneath the surface, just enough that one knew it was there, but she was choosing to keep it contained.

""In the sight of the Seven, I hereby see you these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say your vows," the celebrant had a faint smile on his lips, possibly detecting the hostility radiating off of the bride though he was wiser than to make anything of it.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days," Jaime kept his voice steady, his eyes never leaving Rosalie's though he knew she loathed eye contact for such lengths, it made her nervous and he could tell it was getting to her when she fidgeted, her eyes flicking sideways out of habit and the softest of smiles broke his face.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days," her voice was soft, layered with a gentleness that contrasted the ice in her eyes. Jaime leaned forward, encroaching on her, something he recalled intimidated her before he lowered his face to press his lips to her own. Hers were almost softer than he recalled and tasted faintly sweet, though the kiss that sealed their union was anything but sweet. If Jaime was fire, Rosalie was ice and something in their kiss defied all laws in the meeting of fire and ice. And when he opened his eyes, meeting hers with a finality, he saw that same ice in her gaze but now, it seemed to burn with a triumphant fire and for a moment, he wondered what exactly he was getting himself into.

A raven in a flurry of feathers hurtled into the sky, rising high above King's Landing as the bells tolled, a scrap of paper tied to its leg, a rose seal burned into it and the smallest drawing of a three-headed dragon emblazoned next to the signature at the bottom of the letter. The Great War was coming and Rosalie Lannister was not going to become a pawn to her new house.

The owner of the raven sat still in her seat, watching with a rare smile on her tight lips, raising a goblet as Rosalie caught her eye, she had seen the bird and she knew what this meant. She knew her place and she knew what would come of that letter, a letter she had written as Sansa braided her hair in sweet movements. Her grandmother winked at her before, resuming her usual pinched look, turned her attention back to Tywin Lannister, who's usually beady eyes were unfocused as Olenna poured him another goblet of her favourite wine. Wine which she had scarcely touched but Tywin seemed to be enjoying, Dornish wine often had that effect on men unused to its sweetness. They drank quickly and deeply and slept even deeper. Olenna was still undecided, she needed Tywin's influence on Cersei and Tommen but she thirsted for his demise, without him, Rosalie would be in power at Casterly Rock and Jaime, the poor fool, would be in her clutches by then, eating from her hand as well as from her cunt.

Olenna knew Rosalie well, more so than anyone else. Rosalie craved affection, she wanted love, superficial or true, it didn't matter. She also craved freedom. She always had, she desired freedom and the power that came with it more so than Olenna had initially thought possible. However, Rosalie had a just streak that no matter how much Olenna had tried, she couldn't comb it out and so it had begun to consume Rosalie. The letter was addressed to the dragon queen, promised allegiance to the point of compliance. Rosalie had always adored the stories of the Targaryens, Aegon and his sisters, Rhaenys and Visenya, who she'd vowed to name her children after and she'd always pitied the Targaryen children that had been scattered across the Narrow Sea. She acknowledged the terrible fate of Elia and thus had a hatred for the Mountain that was only paralleled by Oberyn Martell's. Rosalie was better at hiding it though. Oberyn was too emotional and Olenna knew it would not do him any good.

Margaery fussed over Rosalie before the bedding ceremony, which would be a private one due to Cersei Lannister's strong disdain towards the usual ceremony, Olenna didn't have to wonder why. Rosalie seemed slightly stiffer than usual, she held her head higher than normal and there was an unusual coldness in her eyes, Olenna knew it was something she typically hid but now it was on full display, unconcerned with who saw it. She was readying herself for the war to come, Olenna knew her favourite granddaughter. There was no fear in her, not for herself, only apprehension.

"We will see each other again Grandmother," Rosalie murmured into Olenna's hair, her slim figure wrapped up tightly within Olenna's arms.

"That I do not doubt, in this life and the next. May your womb and plans be fruitful and your mind ever sharp, I trust in your judgment and in your decisions but once you're at the top of the wheel, remember it is quite the fall to the bottom and many men have died trying to do as you want to," Olenna tried to keep her cautioning light, she knew Rosalie to be intelligent, to say the least, but she was also trusting. The dragon queen was practically a foreigner, bringing foreign ways and men if she managed to get to Westeros and Olenna did not want her granddaughter to be led astray because she allowed herself to be taken in by the dragon queen. Olenna remembered the Mad King better than most and the thought of her granddaughter being seduced by his daughter worried her.

"Valar Morghulis," Rosalie whispered, her words snatched by the wind almost before Olenna caught them, her eyes narrowing slightly but she nodded, pursing her lips. She would not be able to change Rosalie's mind, no one could though maybe Sansa Stark had a chance. Rosalie turned away from her grandmother, a smile fading fast as her handmaidens flanked her, Sansa's red hair vibrant at the front of the group and then they were gone, vanishing into the darkness.

Rosalie almost wished she could vanish into the shadows. Nudity, she was fine with. Fucking, she was also fine with. But she was not okay with the way Jaime looked at her, with an expression both of desire and warmth, the kind of warmth one would expect from a dear one. Not a one handed Kingslayer who fucked his sister. Fury surged through her, lighting her bones on fire and she swallowed the anger, pushing it down until it felt as though it was quenched but she knew it wasn't, not truly. It burned deep within her, a fire she couldn't put out.

"Are you going to fuck me like you fucked Cersei? Fuck a little blonde babe into me?" Rosalie knew she could provoke him, his features she could read like any book and she was angry. She felt slighted and a part of her wondered if they'd fucked whilst she'd known him, whilst they'd been engaged.

Jaime's shoulders were tensed as she strode toward him, naked as the day her mother birthed her. Her tits were heaving, her nipples beginning to harden in the cool of the night air. The sight of her made his mouth water but for a long moment, he did not reply to her accusations.

"We haven't fucked since I found out we were to be wed if that's where you're going with this," She sighed, an almost inaudible sigh of relief and he noticed that she'd relaxed some more, the tension in her shoulder almost evaporating. He wanted her, more than he'd ever wanted anything and now she stood right in front of him, ripe for the plucking but this was her game, not his. Unless she wanted him to take control, that would explain her baiting him and her posture, the openness of the way she stood, legs parted and shoulders loose.

"Come here," It was a test, would she be compliant or a petulant child? When she moved to stand between his legs, a smile whispered onto his mouth. His golden hand brushed up her leg as he used his flesh fingers to briefly tweak one of her nipples, watching a shudder run down her frame. She was much more responsive than Cersei, her cunt warm and wet, an invitation for his cock, which had begun to hard in his breeches. He trailed his fingers down her stomach, briefly wondering how it would look swollen with his offspring before he pushed a flesh finger into her twat. The sound she made when he did that made his stomach tighten and his cock harden further. Her folds were soft and wet to the touch, he could easily slide several fingers into her and the noises she elicited as he did told him just how good it felt.

She had begun to unbutton his shirt when his fingers pinched around her clit, sharply enough that he felt her jump slightly, an almost squeal spilling from her open mouth. He dragged the golden hand against her twat before he pressed it to her lips, pushing it into her open mouth as she began to suck the golden fingers clean. He began to strip further, yanking his breeches down before he slowed, eyes meeting hers with one of his fingers still hooked in her twat.

"If something hurts, you need to tell me, but otherwise, I'm in control," His voice was a low growl, the lust surging through his veins was hot and the way she moaned at his words, he knew that she was enjoying what he was doing to her. She nodded, her eyelashes fluttering as he pushed another finger into her hot twat before he stepped back, pulling his shirt off.

"Kneel," He rumbled and she bared her teeth in a brief grin before she collapsed to her knees, taking his cock in her hands as she sat up. His flesh fingers laced in her hair, he gave her a moment to adjust before he began to plough into her mouth and throat. She spluttered around his cock a few times but the saliva only aided in it going further the next time as he pounded into her throat. He released her hair as precum began to coat the tip of his cock, mixing with her saliva as it did. He pushed her back onto the bed, smirking at the slightly dazed expression on her face as she wriggled up the bed. Jaime loomed over her for a moment, asserting his dominance in the motion before he pressed his mouth to hers in a fierce kiss. Then in a swift movement, he pushed into her warm twat, the soft squelching sound that accompanied that motion made him groan aloud before he began to pound in rhythm to her erratic breathing.

When he finally came, she had come twice already, both times with an expression so exquisite that he wished it painted and framed. His golden finger; still wet from her, he slipped into his mouth to suck off as he pulled the fur up and over them as she nestled into his side tiredly. Her hair was a state but she was too exhausted from the combined effort of the day and the evening's antics and he knew she would be asleep soon, her eyes kept closing and she seemed content to not move at all. He wrapped an arm around her, comforted that she smelled like him now and that his seed hopefully coated her womb, a legitimate heir was all that he desired apart from Rosalie, who had begun to drift off in his arms. For a while, Jaime lay awake, listening to her breathing evening out before he too began to drift off, the warmth of happiness like a blanket around him.