A Crown of Winter Roses

Chapter 26

Okay, I think right now comments are more important than ever because my head is swimming over whether last chapter was right or wrong. I feel like right now Rosie is something that she's not, and acting entirely different than what I had planned. 

My main aim here was to try and show her using techniques that Oberyn would use, like the seduction of multiple people for personal gains, and having Aerys mainly present. What I have planned is that further on in the series, she is slowly progressing into being a figure that her husband would be proud of, and this is what fuels her; however, on the other hand I don't want her to lose who she is because of this, and that her main driving force was to reclaim the throne for her family. This is still the case but I am unsure on these techniques; perhaps using Tywin was a step too far but I had put that in for a reason which will be seen later on. Again, if you don't like or you do like where this is heading, just give a little show of which and why - I would really appreciate it. Thank you. 

Also, I'm really sorry for not updating for a while I've been away and ill and there's homework to do and ughhhh but here it is and thank you for being patient. I'm not sure how often I will be updating from now on, but I will try my hardest as I currently want to bury my head in the sand and disappear but as I said, I will try my best. 

That fucking season finale. 

Chapter 26

Rosie felt guilt pool in her stomach as she sat delicately in her room; her soft curls had lifted from her face in a bun at the back, with select strands framing at the heart shape. It was the coronation of Tommen, and her mind remained swamped in the past. She was going to have to tell Oberyn soon of what happened to Elia, to Rhaegar, to her siblings; why they didn't sit on the throne. Nothing could help claw down the screams that seemed to echo around her head endlessly, desperate to escape her mouth.

Oberyn was somewhere - she didn't know where, there was too much swarming her to care. She wondered what her own coronation would be like, what Aegon's would have been like, or even Rhaegar's. Would they be lavish? Large feasts and arms of Dragons surrounding everyone, or would they have been private? Like her father?

Nym kicked softly, her hand flying down to cup at the lively child she carried, the thick waves of sadness not lifting as she diverted her attention. Was she still capable of doing this? Was she still capable of holding the Targaryen dynasty on her shoulders? Nym would be the one to carry on her line, to be the next great Targaryen; any siblings that followed holding potential seats of importance.

How Rosie wished her father was here, she needed his council now more than ever. The door creaked open, the dark hair of her husband peeking around smoothly so. "My Love, are you ready?" He asked, his Viper eyes falling to the distant figure of his wife. She was dressed beautifully, her gown in a slinky and low-cut Dornish fashion the same material as his golden tunic; she stood as she nodded, approaching him softly.

"Ready." Rosie muttered, her voice lost to the wind as Oberyn guarded the door from her waltzing figure.