Chapter Two: In the Lion's Den


Joslyn Lannister was the youngest daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister. Joslyn was similar but still nothing like her siblings, she was a bastard child of Tywin Lannister. She knew what she was, she had known it since she was old enough to understand. For no reasons no one questioned, he ordered for her to be placed in the royal family behind Cersei, Tyrion and Jaime. Joslyn believed Tywin took such a liking to her because he was looking to fill the void he felt after he had Tyrion, he blamed Tyrion for the death of his wife, Lady Joanna Lannister.

Years later she had died, Tywin took it upon himself to engage with another woman and she shortly became pregnant with Joslyn. Her lady mother had got into a depressed after Joslyn's birth which no one knew why. Her mother had thrown herself off the cliffs of Casterly Rock and Lord Tywin took her in knowing she had no one else in the world. When she had turned two, Tywin took it upon himself to send her away to King's Landing with Cersei

Her eyes were the lightest shade of blue, and her signature golden hair that all of the Lannisters had was long just past her shoulder blades. She had slight freckles on her face, a thin small nose and dark brown thick eyebrows. When she smiled, her dimples were visible to see. She had sun-kissed skin that undoubtedly wasn't inherited from the Lannister blood she had in her. There were rumors throughout the realm that Joslyn was indeed a bastard child of a Dornish woman, but rumors were all that it had remained.

Joslyn was nine years old, bored out of her mind within the walls of the Red Keep. She sat on a bench in the courtyard with her guard Ser Arys Oakheart who was sipping wine from his leather flask. He was older than his true age. Years of drinking had robbed him of his youth, but Joslyn still found him handsome in some way. Tall, dark, and handsome.

Between the flowers of the beautiful courtyard, were septas sitting and reading. Gardeners wandered around, pacing amongst the flowers and whole landscape was bathed in the warm glow of the sun.

Her septa, Eglantine, was assigned specifically for the princess Myrcella today, the reason why was unknown to Joslyn. Whatever the reason was, she knew her sister could care less about her own lessons. Cersei cared fiercely for her own cubs. To Cersei, Joslyn was just bothersome.

Joslyn's hair was placed in an intricate southern-style, wearing an extravagant floor length gown with the signature Lannister red and gold colors. Around her neck was the necklace her father had sent to her on her fifth name day, a golden pendent of a lion with their words, Hear Me Roarengraved in the back of it.

Her eyes were planted into a book of hers, scanning over the words and sentences, taking her brother's words to heart. A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone if it is to keep its edge.Joslyn repeated it in her head. Her brother Tyrion always did have the most interesting stories and far more interesting advice to share with her. She sighed, once she came to the epilogue of her book, she'd realize there was nothing left to do.

"Do you have a paramour, Arys?" Joslyn asked bravely.

"What?" Arys Oakheart always knew children were naturally curious and inquisitive, but of all the times he had spent with the little lion, she had never showed any interest in him.

"Do you have a paramour? A lover? A wife?"

"No. What kind of question is that, anyway? You're supposed to reading about history, okay?" Arys shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

"It is history... Arys history."

"No... that's ancient history." Arys took another gulp of wine before screwing the cork back on his flask. He drank just a little less than the amount that would slur his words. He had short dark hair, a beard that framed his angular shaped face, and a predatory look in his dark eyes that would scare any grown man away.

Joslyn rolled her eyes. She always liked Arys, but she couldn't say the same for him about her. Arys always kept their conversations short and Joslyn knew if he were to be able to be relieved of his duty as her guard, she would never see him again. She understood, he was a grown man after all with needs and other things that he found far more interesting than being a watch guard for a child.

It was only two hours past midday and she'd already managed to finish an entire book. If only she knew how to read any slower she might have more things to do in this boring castle. She shut the hard cover, practically slamming it closed. Her bright blue eyes shimmered in the glowing afternoon light as she stared hard at her guard, Arys Oakheart.

"Done..Can we go now?" Joslyn asked, her eyes pleading Arys to say yes.

Arys sighed, "Fine. But stay within my eyesight."


The trees were big and full of life, the towers of the wood. Arys and Joslyn walked through the Godswoods in comfortable silence. The only sound was the crunching of twigs in the grass and the occasional clanking of his sword he wore on him at all times. The Godswoods overlooked the Blackwater Rush. It was an acre of elm, elder, and black cottonwood trees.

When Arys was assigned to her, it would become almost a cycle to walk through the Godswoods or take a walk in the gardens, anything was better than sewing or reading. She agreed that enjoyed both, but repeating the same routines every single day of her young life made her feel numb at times and frankly, quite bored.

"What was the King celebrating last night?" Joslyn asked walking on the side of Arys but keeping a proper distance from him.

"The arrival of his new guests..." Arys replied rather bored. "Late... but they still managed a proper welcoming feast."

"Why wasn't I allowed at the feast?" Joslyn didn't get much sleep last night as the loud music from the Grand Hall kept her up until the early hours. She knew Joffrey was to attend the feast with Cersei and his father, for he was the prince. But she still didn't think it was fair since she was a year older than he was.

"It was past your bed time... Myrcella and Tommen were in bed as well-"

"They're babes!" Joslyn interrupted, raising her voice, "I am not a babe-"

"You're a child!" Arys voice boomed over hers as he gave her a stern look for the tone she had just used. "And besides, who would want to baby sit you rather than choosing to enjoy their selves with wine and whores instead?"

Joslyn scrunched her face up in disgust as he said the word "whores". That, and the stench of wine coming from him was stronger than ever.

"You wouldn't choose wine..." She carefully thought about her words and how improper it would be of her to use such vulgarity, "Or, women over me." She finished.

"I wouldn't?" Arys let out a small chuckle, "If the Queen didn't assign myself to you today, where would you think I'd be?"

"That's rude... And I thought you liked me."

"There's not much to like about you, little lion." His face was as still as stone.

Her face was glazed for a split-second and then she frowned, her pouty lips pursed together and her ice blue eyes unblinking. At that moment, if her eyes were a weapon, the piercing look in them would have caused Arys some serious destruction.

"You jest." She said, still frowning. "You know as well as I do that I'm far more fun than wine and women."

"As you say..." He paused to look around the wooded surroundings before turning back to Joslyn.

"Stay right here. Don't move. I need to take a piss." He turned his back on her.

"As you say...Ser." Joslyn said mockingly while she watched Arys's retreating form disappearing into a thick covering of trees.

She sighed as she stood there and waited. She watched as a squirrel searched for food under the bristles of wispy green moss.

The forest didn't scare her as much as it did when she was younger. She read that in the North, Godswoods were of an active religious center than a secular garden as this was. There was no weirwood tree likes most castles in the North still had.

Getting bored from standing in one place, Joslyn started to wander through the trees slowly and without hurry and listened to its sounds. She heard the singing of the birds enjoying their life and sharing their joy through their songs. She kept wandering and still listened to the sounds of nature, until she came upon a small clearing.

Joslyn was in shock with the scene that was before her eyes. Out in the clearing was a girl, about her own age and height, swinging a wooden playsword. She was swiping the sword in different ways, in and out, up and down, at absolutely nothing but the air. It looked almost like a dance.

The girl had messy black long hair, tanned skin almost the same as Joslyn's. She definitely couldn't have been from King's Landing. She was dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, a bright blue short sleeved dress that reached right above her ankles. The flowy material was sheer and thin, and from where Joslyn stood she could see something orange and yellow stitched along the fabric.

Joslyn wondered why the girl was out here by herself. Ladies weren't meant for sword play. They were supposed to practice matters of etiquette, history, sewing and singing. Everything and anything to prepare their selves for a noble highborn man someday.

She started to walk forward to the girl, curiosity flaring in her cerulean eyes.

Perhaps it was the same curiosity that influenced her to one day, long ago, to ask her brother Jaime to teach her something with a wooden sword.

Joslyn's small fingers had barely grazed the handle of her sword when Cersei caught them.

"What have I told you about encouraging her to play with swords? She's a lady, not a common sellsword." Cersei chastised Jaime firmly. Her hard gaze met with Joslyn's soft expression.

The sound of a "thwack" pulled her from her past memory. Joslyn felt a tinge of jealousy through her veins as she looked at the girl who swung her wooden sword against a tree. Joslyn's eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, and hard.

"That's not very lady like!" Joslyn declared.

As if Joslyn hadn't said anything, the girl continued to swing her wooden air slicing it through thin air. She called out to the girl once, twice, three times. Nothing.

She squinted her eyes. Her voice was heard, but the girl clearly wasn't listening. Joslyn's temper was a simmering pot, slow burning, ready to bubble up at any moment. She took fast strides over to the girl, and made sure she was in the girl's peripheral vision.

The only time Joslyn was deliberately ignored was by Cersei. Joslyn stomped her foot on the grass, the thought of her sister only angered her more.

"Are you daft?" She asked louder this time. "Hello? You can't just ignore me!"

Joslyn suddenly walked up to her, grabbing the little girl's shoulder.

The girl abruptly turned around holding the wooden sword to Joslyn's chest.

"I heard you!" She said with a thick foreign accent.

Joslyn looked at her in disbelief. This girl would dare raise a sword to her, a wooden sword at that. Her father was Tywin Lannister. Her sister was the Queen. She wasn't allowed to do this to her.

She pushed the sword down and away from her body.

"Do you know who I am? I am Joslyn Lannister! Sister of the queen-"

"I don't care!" The girl stepped so close to Joslyn that they were almost touching each other's nose.

Joslyn drew in a deep breath, the girl's the burning hard stare felt painful and piercing. She could now see the pores on the girl's face, her dark long eyelashes as Joslyn stared back into the grey orbs that were surging with fury.

The unmoving gaze was accompanied by both the girl's deliberate slow breathing, neither of them backing down.

"HEY!" A fierce yell came from the distance.

The two of them quickly took steps back from one another and turned to see Ser Arys Oakheart walking rather fast towards them.

"Didn't I tell you to stay put? What the hell is so hard about listening? If something were to happen to you, it would've been my head on the spike!" Arys shouted, still tying up the strings to his pants.

Joslyn knew he cared more about himself than of her, but if she were in trouble or went missing, his life would be in grave danger.

Joslyn glanced at the girl, whose face was still smoldering, before finally turning to join Arys.

"Seven hells, girl! I told you to stay put. Not to start wandering about! We need to walk back before anyone starts to wonder where you are." His words were spat out with ferocity.

She knew she should just stay quiet and wait for the storm to abate but she had too many questions about that girl she just encountered.

"Who is she?" Joslyn asked as she struggled to keep up with the pace of Arys who was fueled with anger.

"Who?" He asked with an irritated tone.

"That girl, Arys! That girl back there with the sword!" Joslyn struggled to catch her breath and tried not to trip over the hem of her dress.

"She is the daughter of the King's guest. King Robert has business with her father."

"What's her name?"

"I don't bleeding know!" Arys threw his arms up in frustration. "I would think that was discussed between you girls as you were standing so close to be aquainted...and perhaps even more than that."

At this point, Joslyn was too annoyed to notice his sly remark at the end as she continued her rant, "She was rude!"

"Maybe it was you who was rude." He bit back. He took the wineskin that was in his belt, downing the rest of its contents.

"Quiet." She glared at him, her patience was thinning too now. "And it doesn't matter, she should have answered to me."

He swallowed and tossed the wineskin out onto the grass.

"Why is that, little lady?" He looked down at her as If she was crazy.

"Because I am a Lannister. My father is Tywin Lannister. And my sister is the Queen." She stopped walking.

She felt her ears starting to get hot. Arys turned his head back to look at her but continued walking forward.

"And that will make you?" His sounded as if he was truly curious.

"Joslyn Lannister. House of Lannister. Bastard or not, I have my father's name!"

She tried to sound proud but she came off sounding snobby. She wanted to cry as rage filled her belly. Arys laughed at her, adding fuel to her wrath. She took a deep breath in before storming off right past Arys, her father's words echoed through her mind.

A lion doesn't concern itself with the opinion of a sheep.


King's Landing was altogether different from Dorne. The food was bland, tasteless, with no seasoning apart from salt and a little pepper. Everyone was quiet, silent except when spoken to yet when Odin looked a man or woman in the eyes, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. They were wolves and lions, foxes and snakes-beasts, all of them. They smiled, bright and blooming when it suited them, but behind it there was the promise of blood.

The scent of trees and grass drifted through the air as Odin and Antoinette sparred against each other in the Godswood.

Odin had kept his sister company whenever he could during their stay at King's Landing. Most of the time though his father insisted on keeping him company with the King.

Antoinette attacked. The two siblings stood in one place, trading feints, thrusts and parries with lightning speed, almost impossible to follow. She had no trouble matching Odin.

"Excellent form, sister... But how's your footwork? If I step here-" He took a step around an imaginary circle.

Antoinette stepped the other way, maintaining her relationship with Odin.

"Very good! And if I step again, you step again." He continued to step around in the circle.

To any outsider, it looked as if they were in a serious spar but they dared not to injure each other seriously.

It was time for a rest when Odin saw a little girl sitting down on a tree log in the near distance. Her golden hair was braided in an resemblance of a crown around her head and she wore an extravagant plum colored long sleeved dress with gold trimming. Next to her sat a man in a customary knight's uniform. She was the same little girl he had been seeing almost every day now.

The girl was looking in their direction, speaking to the knight whose eyes were elsewhere, ignoring her as he continued to drink from a wine skin.

"It seems like your friend is back." Odin said before he took a drink of water from his leather flask.

Antoinette turned her head where Odin's gaze was held. "She is not my friend!"

"She looks like she's about your age, huh?" He continued to stare back at the girl.

His eyes glimmered the color of emerald, sparkling in the light of the afternoon sun.

"Who cares? She's a Lannister!" Antoinette spat.

Odin raised his eyebrows at her remark. So far King's Landing wasn't overall enjoyable to his little sister, but he did warn her. He was surprised for her harshness and her judgement towards the child. Even though the girl was a Lannister, what happened to Elia Martell was before they were both even born. The child had nothing to do with it, and he'd be surprised if she even knew about it.

"She's just a child. She doesn't know better. It looks like she's bored out of her mind." He sighed.

"And?" Antoinette asked and she turned back around picking up her sword.

Silence lingered in the air, thick and heavy, like a blanket. Before Antoinette could turn around and say something, Odin had trailed off leaving her alone with her thoughts.


Odin walked across the green grass until he was in front of the pair that was using a fallen tree as a bench to sit on.

"Hello there." He smiled down at the girl before him and a polite nod to the guard beside her. "I am Odin Sand of House Martell."

"Pleasure... I am Joslyn Lannister, House of Lannister." She titled her head up at Odin and the sun shined on her face. Odin didn't notice her eyes until now. Her eyes were stunning. They were iridescent and flecked with every shade of blue.

"And this is my knight, Ser Arys Oakheart." She finished.

Arys stood and the strong odor of wine followed him. They exchanged formalities before Arys sat back down on the log. He looked like he didn't want to be there.

"I think I've seen you here a few times... Would you like to join? I mean, if you're permitted.." Odin glanced over at Arys, knowing that she would need some sort of permission from him.

"I would love to!" She smiled and turned to look at Arys with pleading eyes, "Arys, please! Please, let me play with them!"

The knight didn't answer. Instead he lifted a wineskin to his lips, tilting his head back. He drank like a child who hadn't seen water for a week. But this was no child, and it certainly wasn't water was drinking. Odin stared at the knight before him, feeling disgusted in a way. How was he supposed to guard and protect this little girl in such a state?

With each gulp his Adam's apple bobbed violently and the liquor drizzled from both sides of his thin weathered lips. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

His voice was deep, and raspy when he finally spoke, "No. I forbid it. If something were to happen you-Hell, even just a scratch on your knee-"

"It'll be your head." She finished the sentence for him, rolling her eyes. "You and I both know that's not true. If they even cared, I'd be with Septa Eglantine and Myrcella."

The two of them continued a heated debate. Odin shifted in his spot as he started to feel uncomfortable with the two arguing back and forth. He looked back at his sister who was rooted to the same spot shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

"I guess I'll tell my sister or maybe my brothers that you've been taking me down to the fish market and the streets of the hook." She threanted with a honeyed voice.

The girl displayed such an arrogant pride, it was clear that she was from a high-born family and definitely related to the Queen.

"Bugger that! That's been your idea!"

"Has it?" She challenged.

"Alright... Fine! Go on, then. But don't fucking come crying your little eyes out if they're too rough on you!"

Odin saw the spit spray from his mouth. Fires of fury were smoldering the small narrowed eyes of the knight unbeknownst to Joslyn as she hopped up and threw her arms around Arys in a tight hug.


Odin led Joslyn where Antoinette stood. She walked with a bounce in her step. Odin tried to figure out why this proposal made her so giddy, perhaps she had no friends to play with here. That wouldn't surprise him though. The way she had just spoke to her guard, it was a bit pompous for a girl of her age. It would definitely throw off some people especially children.

Odin was suddenly struck by the coldness of Antoinette's eyes, like a stab of ice, "What are you doing?" Antoinette asked as the two approached her.

"Playing." Joslyn gave her a simple reply and picked up a wooden sword from the grass, "Wow... this is heavy."

"That's my brother's." Antoinette stated defiantly.

"It's okay, sister. We can all take turns." Odin said calmly, hoping Antoinette's temper had changed but it turned out hoping wasn't enough as she tossed her sword on the grass.

"I'm not playing! She's one of them." Her eyes were a cold grey, they showed no sense of kindness or compassion, or any feeling for that matter.

"One of what?" Joslyn innocently asked.

"Come on, Antoinette. It'll be much easier if you were two. I can tell you what to do."

"Why? You play with me all the time." She bit back, shrugging her shoulders.

"How many times did I end up hurting you by accident? Because of my roughness?" His eyes glimmered the color of emerald, sparkling in the light of the afternoon sun.

"Never!"

Odin rolled his eyes at his sister's stubbornness. There was an uncomfortable silence between the three. Antoinette had her arms crossed, and Joslyn's face was lit up with excitement still.

"You know, I've read a few things about Dorne..." Joslyn said, breaking the tension in the air. "Is it really hot there? They say your city bakes under an angry red sun."

"Yes... It is." Odin chuckled. "It is hotter than here definitely."

"And women can actually be a ruler there?" She asked, raising the wooden sword to have a closer look of it.

"Yes..." Odin took note that the little girl was naturally curious.

"Wow... How long will you be here for?"

"Why do you care?" Antoinette finally spoke.

"Antoinette!" Odin warned, he didn't mind Joslyn being so inquisitive. Children were naturally curious, always asking questions. Just like his own sister...

"As long as it takes... The king and our father have private matters to tend to. So who really knows how long that'll be?" Odin saw the little girl staring up at him now, her focus was directly on him.

"Your eyes are beautiful... They're so green."

Her comment was so out of character, so far from what he knew of her, Odin just stared at her open mouthed. His brain formulated no thoughts other than to register that he was shocked.

"Why are you blushing?" Antoinette asked her.

"I am not!" Joslyn said defensively.

"Alright, alright. Stop it. Can this hate cease between the two of you? You know nothing of each other yet there is some hidden war going on between you girls." The two girls continued to glare at each other.

"Okay, lets get this started." Odin clapped his hands. He didn't want anything to escalate, especially with the queen's sister.

"Antoinette? Are willing to be nice or are you going to stand there and be a brat?" He asked.

"Fine." Antoinette sighed and went to pick up the sword she had tossed earlier.

Odin had to teach Joslyn the proper way to hold a sword first. Everything else came after; stance, how to block, twisting, turning. Hours then had turned into days.

For the first few days Joslyn complained about how heavy the wooden sword was, her dress being dirty, the sun being in her face, her hands hurting-Everything and anything she complained about, but as the days went by her complaining finally lessened.

Odin teased her and she would joke back, occasionally he would catch her blush when he would speak to her but he knew it was purely innocent.

Sometimes even Arys would join in on the sword play and gave them helpful advice without anyone asking, but it was still appreciated in the least. If he wasn't pissed drunk, he would get up and demonstrate a technique.

After spending so much time with the Lannister cub, Odin realized how much his sister and Joslyn were so much alike. They even started to sound the same, use each other's words and finished each other's sentences, even though they both denied it.

One was dark haired and the other was golden haired, but they both had the most wonderful eyes-Joslyn's didn't capture light, but defied it, they were so blue that they literally glowed. Antoinette's grey eyes were very pale, as if almost all the color had been sucked out of them.

The two young girls had horrible attitudes and a dangerous passion that burned through their veins for each of their family names.

Antoinette was hot-blooded, quick to anger and slow to forgive but that was common for a Dornishwoman. It had been said that the fiery and strange spices were the reason for why Dornishwomen had such hot tempers.

Joslyn's attitude was matched with hers. The world revolved around her, she saw no points of view other her own. If she was forced to yield, she assumed he or Antoinette had cheated or wasn't playing fair, no other explanations occurred to her. Then she would suddenly become defensive or even go hide in her room. Her tantrums were legendary. But most of the time she was like a well-mannered high born that spoke so properly and practiced her curtsies.

Odin never forgot that Joslyn's father was Tywin Lannister, the man who ordered his soldier Gregor Clegane to brutally murder his cousin, Elia Martell and her two children. There had been bad blood between the Lannisters and the Martells ever since. Joslyn was just a child... she wasn't even born when that had happened. She had nothing to do with it but sadly her family name will forever be remembered for such a tragedy.

Antoinette was arrogant and tenacious, while Joslyn was too innocent and naive. One was day and the other was night, always together yet forever apart. Odin couldn't decide which girl was what...The only thing that continued to get in the way of the girls forming anything of a friendship was pride.


"How do you expect to be able to fight properly if you can't even do the moves right during sparring?"

Joslyn stared in panic at the angered look plastered on Antoinette's face. Slightly ashamed at her performance, she looked to her feet, not being able to hold Antoinette's stare for too long.

It'd been two weeks since she started sparring with Odin and Antoinette, and while she's improved a lot, she never managed to get a upper hand over the Dornish girl. Her gowns made everything even more difficult, but thankfully she had been wearing long pants that she stole from Joffrey's room.

Quickly and deliberately, Antoinette dropped down and swept Joslyn's feet from under her.

Joslyn gasped at the unexpected attack tripping over her feet and falling on her back, head just barely scrapping the ground. The wind was knocked out of her completely, she stayed laying down, staring up at the sky with wide eyes. She could hear Arys's laughter from the distance, embarrassing her even further.

Antoinette walked over, lifting her leg up in the air before quickly bringing her heel down towards Joslyn's face. Joslyn would've screamed if she had her breath, but instead could only flinch, turning her head away in fear. This was the first time Antoinette ever aimed for her face, but Joslyn knew the girl had a strong kick that would most likely leave a bruise.

She felt a whoosh of air near her face but felt no pain afterward. Slowly, Joslyn opened her eyes and stared at the heel of Antoinette's shoe in shock before glancing to her face. Antoinette was staring down at her, her lips turned in a frown of unhappiness, before placing her foot back on the ground.

"Idiot, you didn't even do anything to block the kick. You just sat there and stared."

Joslyn couldn't stop the frustrated growl from escaping her throat. Antoinette just wouldn't give her a break, even though she had improved a lot during her few days with the two siblings. Odin would praise her for how well she was doing, and go slow when she couldn't figure out a move with the play sword or body combat.

"Maybe if you'd go easier on me until I get the hang of it instead of charging at me-like some beast!" Joslyn yelled.

Antoinette snapped to hers in anger, "Yeah? And what'll that do? My father said the only way you'll get better is if you fight someone who's better than you, and I'm better than you by far! If you're not getting the move, it's your fault... not mine!"

"But I understand all the moves Odin teaches, and that's because he actually explains how to do it! How do you expect me to get this if you don't even tell me how? I'm not the problem here, you're the problem by being such a terrible teacher!" Her tantrum was getting the best of her for she wanted to beat her hands on the ground like a toddler.

Antoinette's body twisted quickly, turning to stare at her incredulously. Joslyn had gotten frustrated with Antoinette many times before, but she'd never gone so far as shouting at her. A part of her couldn't help but regret her words. Antoinette had helped her, had agreed to teach her even when Odin wasn't around, and she had thrown that in her face just because she couldn't get a move down.

Antoinette's eyes narrowed at Joslyn, and she began to stalk towards her, as if she was some sort of predator who had tired of playing with its prey. Joslyn felt the blonde hairs on her neck raise in panic, and before she really knew what she was doing, she stepped back, slipping into a fighting position that Odin had taught her.

Antoinette moved towards her quicker than Joslyn expected and reached for the sleeves of her dress. Joslyn quickly ducked before she could get a good hold of her. Instincts taking over completely, Joslyn stuck her leg out and quickly spun around, only getting about half-way before she lost her balance and fell over on her knees, hands bracing herself on the ground.

Breathing heavily, she sat in the same place for a couple moments before she realized what she had done. She quickly turned around, and to her immense surprise, saw Antoinette lying on the floor, a look of disbelief on her face. Joslyn couldn't stop the surprised grin from forming on her lips.

"I can't believe it! I did it, I beat you! This is amazing! I never even did a move like that before, and suddenly I just bent down and-umph!"

Antoinette was looking down at her once more, but this time a satisfied smirk was playing on her lips.

"Remember our first lesson? Never let your guard down, even when you think you've beaten your opponent."

Joslyn's eyes widened in slight awe at the girl standing above her. For a mere moment, she didn't look so... angry. She looked happy-Joslyn was still unable to read her well. The irritated look in Antoinette's eyes had dissipated and had been replaced with a sharp dash of playfulness.

"I did better today. You should just admit it." Joslyn said, wiping the blades of grass off her dress.

They had both got up and started to walk towards Arys who was drinking from his wineskin and sitting down comfortably on the same fallen tree.

"It doesn't matter..." Antoinette mumbled, the same irritated look in her eyes appeared once more.

"Why can't you just admit that I did good? You can't even admit that you like me, and I know you do." Joslyn grinned, glancing at sideways at her.

"You're still your father's daughter." Her eyebrows knitted together.

"And, what does that mean?" Joslyn asked and Antoinette stopped walking facing her head on.

"You don't get it do you? What do they teach you with those history lessons? Are you so wrapped up with your sewing and singing those dumb songs about chivalrous knights that don't even exist?" She moved her hands so animatedly that someone else might've thought she was trying to swat a fly away.

"Hey! I like those songs!" Joslyn said defensively.

"You're so stupid!" Antoinette scowled.

"Shut up!" Joslyn barked back.

"You're a Lannister. Your father is Tywin Lannister. It's his fault my cousin's dead."

Her mouth was frozen wide open in surprise. She stumbled over her words, "I... I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Will that bring her back?" She frowned.

"I love my father. I'm sure he's made mistakes but everyone has." Joslyn stated full of pride.

"You love your father? Does he love you?" Antoinette asked.

"Of course." Joslyn confidently raised her chin.

"Then why are you here and not at Casterly Rock with him?"

"Enough!"

The two girls were too engaged with their argument to even notice that they had reached Arys. He must've heard some or even most of their conversation.

"Seven hells, will you two stop with your bellyaching? Damned twats are giving me a headache."

Joslyn and Antoinette didn't say a word. Arys was only intimidating when he had too much to drink and his patience was practically gone. He rarely cursed or spoke with such a harsh tone. The three started to walk back to the Red Keep in silence.

They arrived in the gardens, turning towards one another before going separate ways; Arys who had to chaperone Joslyn to her quarters, and Antoinette who will be off to find her father or brother.

Arys sighed, running a hand through his short hair, "Who won?"

Joslyn rubbed gently at the back of her neck while staring at her feet.

"I think we tied, don't you?" She mumbled.

"Yeah, I guess so..." Antoinette shrugged, her voice quiet and a frown on her face once again.


"And who are you, the proud Lord said..." Joslyn sang. Her voice was smooth and clear, quiet yet powerful for a nine year old. "That I must bow so low? Only a cat of a different coat that's all the truth I know. In a coat of Gold or coat of red, lion still has claws. And mine are long and sharp my lord, as long as sharp as yours."

Her presence seemed to buzz around Antoinette like a fly she could never swat. Every word, movement, and breath she performed infuriated her to no end. She convinced herself that the only reason she spent more and more time with her was purely out of boredom.

"Will you shut up?" Antoinette yelled. The gritty sand went between her toes as the two of them walked the edge of the Blackwater Bay. The sun made the sand sparkle like a thousand tiny gems. They had met at the usual clearing in the forest but it was occupied by men who were training. Joslyn thought of heading down to the beach, she was supposed to be with her Septa today but instead she decided to sneak off unnoticed.

Joslyn let out a loud sigh and instead of singing, she continued to hum the song.

Antoinette found a white seashell that was going to make a great addition to the sand castle she built. She liked this part of King's Landing, maybe the only thing she liked here. It definitely smelled better too, seaweed and salt filled the humid air. In a way, it reminded her of Sunspear when her father would bring her and Odin to the shore of the Narrow Sea. The Narrow Seas were known for whirlpools and infested with sharks and kraken. They would watch the sun set in the east as their father would tell them stories of the broken arm of Dorne, the stepping stones as others would call it.

"You can't sing?" Joslyn suddenly asked her and Antoinette responded with a shake of her head.

"I can teach you!" Joslyn said excitedly, "You've showed me all sorts of things, you and Odin. Maybe I can show you how to-"

"I don't like that song."

It was a famous song in Westeros, the "anthem" of sorts for House Lannister, dedicated to Tywin Lannister in particular. A song for House Lannister would be the last thing she'd sing.

"That's fine. A different song then. I can even write one for you."

"No thanks." Thankfully, that ceased the conversation from going any further. They continued along the shore collecting more seashells rocks, and sand to build each of their own castle. It was quiet save for the occasional crashing of the waves against the rocks. The silence didn't last for too long as Joslyn continued to sing once again.

"And who are you? The proud lord said, that I must bow so low..."

"Oh my dearest aunt." A mocking voice said from behind them.

Both of them turned to the direction of the voice. A boy, no older than they were, walking across the sand with an arrogant smirk plastered on his pale face. Following close behind him was his sworn shield known as the Hound. Antoinette remembered him when she had first arrived at King's Landing. The only man that can frighten her so. The left side of his face was a ruin. All around it was a twisted mass of scar, pocked with craters and fissured by deep cracks that gleamed red and wet when he spoke. Down by his jaw was a hint of bone.

"I knew that was your voice I heard... I almost mistake it for a shrieking babe." There was just something so horribly empty about him, so terrifying about the cruel smile that played about his lips.

"Shut up, Joffrey!"

Joffrey. Joslyn's nephew and the Queen's eldest son, golden haired like the rest of her children.

"Lets hear you sing, then!" Joslyn challenged. Her face fell as Joffrey locked his eyes on hers.

"Princes don't sing. And do not speak of me that way.. You should respect me."

He was deliberately taunting her now. Joslyn's face had turned red as she sat back down on the sand focusing intently on her castle.

"Playing with the dirt like the mutt you are."

Still, Joslyn refused to acknowledge him. She looked almost, defeated. Antoinette felt herself getting angry. She narrowed her ash colored eyes and looked brazenly up at Joffrey.

"What? Do you have something to say?" He chuckled after receiving only a death-like stare in return from her.

"Where there are mutts...there are fleas." Joffrey let out a short laugh.

"Says the ones that's always around a dog." The words came pouring out from her mouth, she was in more shock than the rest of them. A shadow fell across her face. She turned to find the Hound looming overhead like a cliff. His soot-dark armor seemed to blot out the sun.

"Watch your mouth, child." His voice rasped from above.

"Do you know who you're talking to, girl?" Joffrey's eyes pierced right through Antoinette, those cold blues eyes of his. "You cannot speak to me that way. I am the Prince."

"No. You're leaving." Antoinette crossed her arms. She wasn't going to have this boy scare her into silence as he did with Joslyn. She was stronger than that.

Joffrey's eyes never left hers as he stood there in shock, his mouth opened. Joslyn stood.

"Leave." Antoinette said. His flowery perfume made her feel as though she were choking on feathers.

"Or what?" demanded Joffrey, "What power do you hold over the prince?"

Antoinette suddenly kicked sand at him.

"Leave!" Her voice was louder, clearer, and much more confident than before.

"You little bitch." Joffrey spat at her, marching towards her. Antoinette stood her ground, she braced herself for his violent vengeance.

"Leave her alone Joffrey!" Joslyn stepped directly in front of Antoinette blocking Joffrey from coming closer but he simply shoved Joslyn out of the way causing her to fall right onto her bottom.

The Hound roughly grabbed hold of Joffrey's shoulder. Antoinette took this opportunity to scoop up a handful of sand, tossing it directly into the prince's face. His hands flew to his face, screaming and wailing from the pain in his eyes.

"I'm telling mother!" He screamed and blindly tried to scramble away, the sand slowing him down.

"Get up!" the Hound grabbed Joslyn from the scruff of her dress lifting her onto her feet.

He then turned to Antoinette. She held her breath as the Hound's face became impassive as he stepped closer to her, bending down to her eye level. Antoinette cringed and fixed her gaze on the clasp of his armor; anything to avoid his terrible face.

His voice grumble out a harsh whisper, "You will do best to remember you are only a guest here."

He stood straight and stormed off towards Joffrey.

As Joffrey glared back once more with his sparkling blue eyes, eyes like the Queen's, Antoinette felt a shiver run through her body causing goosebumps to rise up from her skin.

"Are you okay?" Joslyn asked, her eyes in search of any bodily harm on Antoinette.

"Of course. Are you?" She was the one who was knocked down.

"Yes, I am fine. We should probably go back now. Joffrey is going to tell my sister, I know it. We both will get into trouble!"

Antoinette wouldn't admit out loud that she was as scared as Joslyn, maybe even more than she was. She promised her father that she would stay out of trouble and whatever business he had here with the King. She started to regret what she had done to Joffrey as they started to walk back to the Red Keep.

"Thanks for defending me."

Antoinette looked at Joslyn as if she was insane. "I wasn't defending you."

Joslyn rolled her eyes. "Well... I tried defending you."

"Did you? By falling on your ass?" Antoinette asked mockingly. She laughed at Joslyn's sudden flush of embarrassment on her face. "I didn't need you to defend me. I can handle your nephew... He's just another spoiled brat."

She remembered the first the day Joslyn had walked up to her, speaking so snobby and prideful. Just like Joffrey had just done... But even though she had just met and spoke to him for such a short amount of time she could tell they were nothing alike.

"Why did he call you a mutt?"

"He always calls me mutt... and other names."

"Yes, but why?" Antoinette could see the back entrance of the kitchens which they had went through earlier to go out to Blackwater Bay. They finally reached the Keep.

"I guess because I am a bastard." Joslyn continued to look ahead in the distance.

"But your last name is of your family's." Antoinette said confused.

In Dorne, if a bastard was born, he or she was given the name Sand. Just as she and her brother were. She knew in different parts of Westeros, bastards were given different surnames but she never knew of a bastard having the same last name of their own parent.

"My father gave me his last name." Joslyn answered.

"So, they aren't married?"

"Who?" Joslyn asked.

Antoinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Your mother and father."

"No." Joslyn said, her voice getting quieter. "My mother is dead."

"So then they were never married?"

Joslyn sighed. "No... they never were."

"I don't understand how you have the Lannister name if they were never married."

"Look who's asking all the questions now." Joslyn grinned.

Antoinette's questions were left unanswered. They both fell into a silence as they proceeded to walk through the kitchen without being spotted out by the wrong person. Antoinette definitely had caused enough trouble for the day.