Joanna thought after two days in King's Landing, she'd never curtsied so many times in her life. She thought this as she rose from her position before Princess Rhaella in her chambers. The room was decorated with embroidered dragon tapestries, littered with settees, stools and chaise lounges for the princess and her ladies. Only now most of them were empty. Most of Rhaella's handmaids perished in the fires at Summerhall. Joanna didn't want to think what would happen to her if she stayed long in King's Landing.
"Your Grace," Joanna said, rising from her stooped position. "Please allow me to convey how happy I am to come to court as your lady-in-waiting, and how sorry I am for the tragedy at Summerhall."
Rhaella smiled, her smile not touching her sad, lilac eyes. She rose, and came to stand before Joanna. Rhaella kissed Joanna's cheeks.
"It is I who should thank you," she said, taking a few locks of Joanna's golden hair in her hands, and running her fingers down it affectionately. "I hope King's Landing is not too lonely for you… as it has been for me. Maybe we will do each other some good."
Joanna smiled. "I hope so, Your Grace."
"Please sit," Rhaella bid Joanna, indicating a stool just beside her small throne-like chair that overlooked the courtyard.
"How do you find King's Landing?" Rhaella asked, grabbing her embroidery, placing it in her lap, but not working on it.
"It's..." Joanna started, fearful of speaking her mind to the princess. "Different."
"I've never been anywhere other than King's Landing, so you'll have to tell me what you mean by different," Rhaella said.
"I come from Feastfires, a holdfast just outside of Casterly Rock," Joanna said. "It's beautiful there. Rolling hills, greener than any emerald in Westeros. There are streams so clear you can see every fish in them," Joanna stared wistfully into the distance.
"Ah," Rhaella said, a smile playing on her face. "So it doesn't smell of shit? I've been beyond the walls of the Red Keep, I know what it's like," she added with a laugh.
This set Joanna more at ease. "No, Your Grace. Lannisport is filthy enough, but my father rarely let me go to market."
"The future Lady of Casterly Rock can't be seen among the fishmongers and brothels," Rhaella surmised.
Joanna was silent a moment. "I still can't quite get used to the idea."
"Being the Lady of your House?" Rhaella asked. "A trifle less frightening than becoming queen of the realm." Joanna opened her mouth to apologize, but was cut short by Rhaella. "Don't worry, I know what you meant. I merely mean to say that I understand."
When wine had been poured for them by the servants standing by, Joanna drank thankfully to give herself something to do.
"Have you seen much of it?" Rhaella asked.
"What, Your Grace?" Joanna responded.
"King's Landing. Or at least the Red Keep. With the war abroad, I don't see us being able to take the air in Flea Bottom any time soon, but the courtyards are beautiful."
"I have not seen the courtyard, Princess," Joanna said hopefully.
"We'll go. Though you are excellent company, Lady Joanna, I don't like staying here just yet. I'm still reminded of those I lost."
She rose, and Joanna followed suit. When they left Rhaella's quarters, they were followed by four Kings Guard down to the courtyard.
Rhaella and Joanna walked in comfortable silence down to the courtyard, where the sun was shining, and warmed their backs. Rhaella unexpectedly took Joanna's arm in hers, and the two of them walked arm in arm like they were long-lost sisters. It struck Joanna then just how lonely Rhaella must have truly been, if she was treating her this way after knowing her less than an hour.
"Stay here," she bid the King's Guard as they passed the entrance to the courtyard. When they were out of earshot, Rhaella let out a breath.
"I hate being followed everywhere. Here and the Godswood are just about the only places I can get them to leave me alone," she said, and they sat under the arbor.
"I can't imagine it," Joanna said, unsure what else she could say.
"Let's not talk of such sad things," Rhaella said after a moment's contemplation. "Tell me of your intended."
Joanna chuckled and shook her head. "To tell you the truth, Princess, I don't know him much. We did not grow up close, you see."
"That could be a good thing," Rhaella said with sad detachment. Joanna thought in that moment how horrible it must be to have been forced to marry one's own brother.
"If I may speak plainly…" Joanna began.
"Of course, Lady Joanna," Rhaella said, smoothing her grey dress out over her lap. "You have my strictest confidence."
"He's…" Joanna started, looking around. "More arrogant than I had hoped. When our betrothal was announced at his sixteenth Name Day celebration, he spoke rather unkindly towards the match."
Rhaella smiled. "I've come to know him well enough in the years he's been at court. He's become rather close with Aerys. Aerys, Tywin and Steffon Baratheon have become somewhat inseparable to tell you the truth."
"Have they?" Joanna asked, her interest piqued. She knew so little of Tywin, and she hoped for any information that might change her current perception of him.
"Yes," she said. "I consider myself a good judge of character, Lady Joanna, but I never have considered Ser Tywin to be an arrogant sort of man. I think 'proud' is the word I would use."
"I hope you are right, Princess," Joanna said.
"Right about what?" a cold voice came from behind Joanna. A voice she'd never heard before.
The man who spoke rounded on Joanna and the Princess, and came out from behind the ivy-covered arbor. It was Prince Aerys, clad in black velvet. He leaned on the arbor with an arrogance Joanna thought was impossible for one man to have.
Joanna quickly rose, and curtsied for the prince. The prince took this as his opportunity to look down the neckline of Joanna's olive green gown.
"We have not had the pleasure yet, my lady," the prince said, and extended his hand. Joanna hesitated, looking to Rhaella, before giving the prince her hand, which he held too firmly for Joanna's liking. He planted a lingering kiss on the back of it, and caressed the spot with the fingers of his other hand before letting it go.
"No, Your Grace," Joanna said, all color draining from her face. Could the princess see she did not want these attentions? She hoped she would not be banished from court.
"Another lion in court," he mused. "I'll be riding with your lord father to the Stepstone islands to battle soon."
"I am sure my father is honored by your presence, Your Grace. You are so brave to fight," Joanna said, the words tasting like acid as they poured from her mouth. She hated false flattery, but knew when it came to the Targaryens, she must speak so.
Aerys let Joanna's hand go, and in a display of possession, leaned down to his sister-wife, grabbed the back of her neck, and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. "Wife," he said. "How is our son?"
Joanna noted the look of disgusted tolerance on Rhaella's face. "He is well. The Septas will be happy to bring him to you, Aerys," Rhaella said, only a trace of bitterness showing. "I wish you would see him more."
"Hmmm," he said, dismissively. He looked back at Joanna with a hungry eye. "My dear friend Tywin tells me you're to be his bride when the time comes."
"Yes, Your Grace," Joanna said.
He said nothing in response. Aerys smiled a crooked smile, and straightened his doublet. He leaned down again to kiss his wife's neck, and straightened back up.
"I hope to see more of you, Lady Joanna," Aerys said, and sauntered off before Joanna had a chance to reply.
Joanna looked to Rhaella in apology, but found that the princess's expression enough to set her at ease.
"I am sorry, Lady Joanna," Rhaella said. "My husband is… a complicated man." She looked around herself before speaking her next words. "If the gods are good, he won't come back from the war."
Joanna sat in horrified silence. Should she agree? Or disagree?
"Don't worry, Lady Joanna," Rhaella said, looking years older than she actually was. "The gods are never that good."
The light cast through the stained glass in the Great Sept of Baelor struck Joanna Lannister with awe. She had never seen a more beautiful sept in all her life. The Sept at Feastfires looked like a kitchen larder in comparison to the Great Sept. The entire coronation happened without Joanna truly paying attention, as there were so many sights to be seen. Not only the great building, but so many lords and ladies of the great houses of Westeros. People with faces unlike any she had ever seen, with skin as dark as midnight.
When the coronation was over, Joanna shook herself from her reverie, and took Tywin's arm obligingly. When they reached the courtyards of the Red Keep, which had been lined with feast tables, they were seated among the first tables closest to the royal family.
Having been seated with her family, Joanna drifted from the conversation of the male members of her family. She could only listen to battle strategy so long before her mind started to wander. It was in her wanderings that her eyes found the royal table. She watched sadly as Princess Rhaella's eyes glazed over. Joanna wondered if anyone else saw Prince Aerys's hand gripped so tightly on Rhaella's knee. She looked at Tywin, and confirmed that at the very least, he knew, and was as powerless as anyone else to stop his prince.
Joanna lost count of the courses before the newly crowned king called her name. Joanna did not hear, having lost herself in a song that a harp player was plucking out, but her father drew her from her daze.
"The king bids you approach, dear," Ser Jason said, and Joanna swallowed.
"What?" she asked. She had hoped the celebration would pass, and she could retire to her quarters early.
Tywin turned and looked at her expectantly. It was his look that made her move faster. She pushed her chair back, and walked to the table that seated the king and his family. It felt as if it took minutes or hours for her to get to the high table. When she was close enough, she curtsied.
"Your Majesty, many blessings on your coronation," she bid the king, uncomfortably.
He nodded away her well wishes, uninterested in her flattery. "You did promise me a song, did you not?"
Joanna's mouth hung open. She had hoped the king had forgotten her promise. "I did, my king."
He looked about the courtyard, the sun beginning to set, and torches newly lit so that the celebrations might continue into the night. "I see as many musicians present as you could ever want for. Name your song, and any number of them will accompany you."
Joanna's heart hammered. She looked back at her father, and Tywin, to find their faces would brook no refusal. She turned back, and tried to think of a song that would fit the occasion.
"I know many songs, Your Majesty, but the song I would sing you, they may not know."
"Name it, girl, and someone will play," he said, the amused tone in his voice leaving.
Joanna swallowed. "For your coronation, my king, a song in High Valyrian would be best. Do any here know Se Vēzos Sīmonagon Drēje?"
The king smiled widely. "The Sun Rises True," he said, approvingly. He looked out at the musicians who meandered about the courtyard.
Joanna's ears hissed with the sound of her blood rushing as her heart beat faster. Would someone know it? It was a song she found in a book her father had, not a common song sung at taverns or wedding feasts.
Just when Joanna thought she would have to sing it on her own, an old woman came forward with her harp in tow. She bowed to the king, and sat silently.
Joanna shook a moment, and looked at the harpist. Their eyes met, and wordlessly, the harpist plucked the first few bars, and Joanna sang softly. Almost immediately the murmur of the crowd died down, and the only sound was that of Joanna and the harp, only Joanna could barely even hear herself.
She focused on the table the king sat at, and sang of Old Valyria and its days of glory. When she had finished, she looked upon the king finally, who had a wistful look in his eyes. A momentary silence met Joanna's ears, when finally it was pierced by the sound of applause from all in attendance of the feast.
Joanna's face burned bright red, and with a curtsey, sat down when King Jaehaerys had thanked her and bid her to sit. If Joanna had to recall the words Jaehaerys had spoken, she would not have been able to for her own life. She took up her seat between Tywin and Jason, and looked at her hands, whose sweaty palms she smoothed on her lap.
Had she looked up at all, she would have seen the faces of the men who watched her as she returned to her seat. She was clueless to how Tywin's chest felt like it might burst as she sang, how Ser Barristan's stomach did a somersault, and to how Aerys's desire was incensed by her rendition of the Old Valyrian song.
Before long, the feast continued as it had, with the sun setting, and the king's interests fell upon other things. Joanna, in an attempt to calm her nerves, reached for her glass of wine, and drank generously from it.
"You sing well," Tywin offered quietly, that only the two of them might hear.
"Thank you, Ser Tywin," Joanna said, and drank again from her goblet. "In truth, I don't like it. It was the only thing the Septas taught me that I was any good at though."
Tywin thought briefly of telling her he would like to hear her sing again, but thought better of it. Now was not the time and place to show such affections. Instead, he picked up a carafe of wine, and refilled Joanna's cup.
When her heart had slowed down a bit, and her second glass of wine had smoothed over any rough edges of the night, Joanna sighed and sat back, listening to the din of the feast. Laughter and music and talking all became one, and Joanna felt her body and mind hum from the wine. When it all became too much, Joanna rose.
"Will you excuse me, father, Ser Tywin?" she said, and Tywin rose.
"Let me accompany you, Lady Joanna," Tywin said dutifully.
"No, Ser Tywin, I will be alright," she said. "The Red Keep is swarming with King's Guard tonight, I think I'm safe. I'll be but a moment."
Tywin still stood unsurely. Joanna placed her hand upon his shoulder. "Really, Ser Tywin, I won't be more than a moment."
Tywin looked briefly at Joanna's hand on his shoulder, and his lips parted a hair. His face grew hot, and he nodded against his better judgment.
When he sat, Joanna was satisfied, and walked off towards the privies, which were several tables back. When she reached them, she stood behind a line of ladies who wore the colors of houses Stark, Martell, Baratheon and Tyrell. They all greeted her enthusiastically, and introduced themselves in quick succession. Joanna swayed slightly. She couldn't remember a single one of their names.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Joanna said, giggling slightly.
"I said you're betrothed to Tywin Lannister, aren't you?" the Martell girl said, her accent heavy.
"Oh," Joanna said, closing her eyes and nodding. "Yes." All thought and reason had fled her mind, and she could think of no better response. The girls all commented on how handsome and noble he looked, and how lucky Joanna was, to which she only nodded.
Their comments stopped abruptly, and turned to a chorus of "Your Grace" and "my prince" as the girls all curtsied.
Joanna turned and found Prince Aerys standing before her, looking down at her like a cat would look at a mouse.
"Your Grace," Joanna said, and curtsied as best she could in her inebriated state.
"Ladies, you are all visions of loveliness," Aerys said, causing each one of the girls to smile broadly. "But Lady Joanna, are you quite alright?"
Joanna opened her eyes as wide as she could, swaying on the spot. "Oh, yes, Your Grace, I am quite well."
"But clearly you are not," he said with a wry smile. "You should be seen to your chambers," he said, taking her arm to steady her.
The ladies of houses Stark, Martell, Baratheon and Tyrell all bit their tongues, and their eyes widened as Prince Aerys led Joanna away from the privies, and away from the courtyard.
"Your Grace, I am quite well, really," Joanna assured the prince, but tripped on an uneven stone, only to have Prince Aerys pull her upright.
"I'm afraid I'll brook no refusal, my lady," he said, and pulled her into a doorway that led into the halls of the Red Keep, which Aerys knew well, and Joanna did not. "You should sleep this off."
Joanna followed drunkenly as Aerys rounded corner after corner.
"You've never been drunk before, have you?" Aerys asked tauntingly.
"No, my prince," she said quietly.
"'My prince'," Aerys repeated, and swung Joanna around to face him. "It sounds so lovely coming from your lips."
Joanna opened her eyes to find herself in a dark hallway lit only by torches burning every ten feet.
"Your Grace, this isn't the way to my quarters," Joanna said, alarmed, but hoping not to anger her prince.
"Oh, I know," he said coldly, backing her into a wall. "But I thought we might be able to get better acquainted here, you and I."
"Your Grace, I really should get back to the feast, my father—"
"Your father and the rest of your family are too busy drinking and laughing to notice you're gone," he said, and just then, Joanna realized what trouble she really was in.
"I thought about waiting to take you later, but hearing you sing in High Valyrian made me want you even more," he said, and pressed his mouth down on hers so hard that her head knocked against the stone wall. She knew it would bruise.
Aerys kept both her arms in his hands as he pressed down on her. He came back for air, and to look down at her to see if she would resist.
The look of fear in her eyes was all he needed to see.
"Stop," she said with as much force as she could muster.
"Stop?" he asked with a laugh. "You dare ask your prince to stop?"
"Please, Your Grace, I am betrothed to Ser Tywin. I cannot—" she started, and was cut off by another bruising kiss.
When he had silenced her, he pulled back again. "Ser Tywin, my father's favorite knight, my friend… well here's one thing I'll be taking from him, and not the other way around," he said, and before he could kiss her again, Joanna pushed him away, and her palm collided with his cheek with a resounding crack.
When she had done so, she froze in fear. She had just struck the prince, and the future king of Westeros. He looked back at her with such malice that she feared for her life. He struck her with the back of his hand, ten times as hard, splitting her lip, and sending her onto her hands and knees. She hit the floor with such force that her palms were scraped, and began to bleed.
Before she had the chance to push herself up to her feet, Aerys grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her the rest of the way up. He pushed her forcefully back into the stone wall, and tore at the neckline of her red gown.
Joanna sobbed, and held her hands up in self defense, and before Aerys could act again, a voice cut through the silence in the tunnel, freezing Aerys in his tracks.
"My prince," the voice commanded. Joanna gasped, and looked for the source.
Ser Barristan stood with his palm on the hilt of his sword, walking towards the prince.
"What is it, Selmy?" Aerys asked insistently.
"Your father the king requests you at once," he said, looking only at Joanna, whose tears fell silently.
"Can't it wait," he demanded.
"I'm afraid not, my prince," he said, resolute in staying, but still hoping he would not have to draw his sword against his own prince.
Aerys looked back at Joanna and gritted his teeth. Without a word he stalked off down the corridor, leaving Barristan and Joanna standing alone. When his footsteps had died away, Joanna finally allowed herself to cry, and slumped down against the wall.
"My lady, are you alright?" he asked, looking to the cut on her lip. It bled, but it would close soon enough.
Joanna looked up at Ser Barristan and put a shaky hand on her lip to feel the blood there. She hissed when she found the cut, and began to panic when she realized there was physical evidence of her encounter with Aerys.
"Gods," Joanna said. "I'm such a stupid girl," she said, wiping at the tears on her face.
"No, my lady," Barristan said, taking off his cloak, and placing it around her shoulders to cover up what flesh had been exposed. "This was not your fault."
Joanna cried quietly. Unable to let her cry, Ser Barristan put his hand on the small of her back, and cupped her arm in his other hand to steady her. "Let me see you to your rooms."
They walked a few paces before Barristan decided in her drunken and shaken state that Joanna would not make it quickly, and he scooped her up in his arms with no protest. They walked the empty hallways of the Red Keep, and Barristan brought Joanna to the corridor where the Lannister nobles were being housed. He set her down, and brought her into her room.
He drew the curtains, and before he left, he told her to lock the door behind him, and to not open it to anyone but him or one of her family members. She nodded, and he turned to leave. Before he could close the door, she stopped him by calling his name.
"Ser Barristan," she said. He paused, and looked sadly at the diminished Lannister girl. "Thank you."
He nodded after a moment. "Remember, lock the door, and don't open for anyone who isn't me or a Lannister."
Tywin rubbed at his forehead. He'd had more than enough wine for the evening, so he placed his cup far enough away that he might not be tempted to drink any more. His thoughts dwelled on Joanna, and his feelings for her.
She was still only fourteen, but already a headstrong and well composed lady. And of course, she was going to be his wife in a few years. He barely knew her, and struggled with wanting to get to know her more. It was the match his father made for him, and everything his father did was wrong. Or was it?
His father lent out money so much that they were nearly bankrupt. His mistresses wore his late wife's dresses and jewelry, and commanded Casterly Rock like they were the lady of the house. So of course when Tytos Lannister betrothed his son to a beautiful girl, Tywin had trouble accepting that it was in any way a good thing.
And yet, she was turning out to be… different than he had expected. And showing affection was a difficult thing for Tywin Lannister to do. Even if it had been a match he made himself, he thought he might still have trouble.
And perhaps it was the wine that helped him dwell on these thoughts, but tonight the matter seemed even more severe than it actually was. He looked around for her, if only to make a physical connection to the mental image he had of her, and found that he could not immediately place her.
He looked in the direction of the privies, where she had presumably gone off to, and found no one in a red dress standing there. He scanned the courtyard, looking at the groups of people standing about and talking, hoping he might find her amongst them. She was, after all, a new face in court, and many would want to talk to her.
Still, he did not find her. Fear grew in his stomach like ice, and he looked to the head table, at the place next to King Jaehaerys where Prince Aerys had sat not moments before. It was empty. Involuntarily Tywin sat up, scraping his chair behind him. His uncle, Ser Jason, looked up at his nephew.
Tywin lowered his voice, and kept his face impassive. "Where is Joanna?"
"Off to the privies I suppose—" Jason started, and Tywin shook his head.
"Uncle Jason, I think you should go to her room. Don't make a scene, but go there now," he said, looking around to make sure no one caught on to their movements. They both reached the edge of the courtyard, and before they could enter the Red Keep, Tywin told his uncle he would be up in a moment.
"I'm going to check another place," he said.
"Tywin, what's going on?" Jason asked, nearing a shout.
Tywin breathed heavily and tried not to answer directly. "I hope nothing. But we'll know faster if we go now."
Jason nodded tersely, and they both went their separate ways.
As Tywin headed down to the tunnels below the Red Keep, he cursed himself for being so stupid, and not accompanying Joanna. He had been lulled into a false sense of security with how many people were in the courtyard that he had taken his eyes off Aerys entirely. Aerys, who was his sole worry for Joanna in King's Landing.
When he made it to the tunnels where he knew Aerys sometimes brought kitchen wenches or servant girls, he didn't know if he should be relieved or worried that he didn't find Aerys or Joanna. His heart hammered as he ran up to the Lannister corridor of the Red Keep, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Barristan standing sentry outside Joanna's door.
"Where is she?" he bellowed, pacing forward to Barristan. The two men stood face to face, and Tywin asked the question he had been fearing. "Did he…?"
Barristan shook his head, but sadly. "Almost. He'd gotten her down to the tunnels. She's a bit roughed up, but I came just in time."
Tywin pushed past Barristan without a word, and burst into Joanna's room, where he found Jason cradling his daughter in his arms on her bed. Tywin was struck by the tears coming down his uncle's cheeks—his uncle, stern and dutiful, was crying like a child. This unsettled him almost more than Joanna herself, who had a strange, detached look in her eyes, which were still wet with tears.
He quickly approached the bed, and sat beside Jason, putting his palm on Joanna's face.
"Did he hurt you?"
Joanna knew he didn't mean her face. She shook her head shamefully.
"How did he get you down there?"
Joanna's face froze. "What?" she asked, for clarification.
Tywin's jaw flexed. "How did he get you down there, Joanna?" She was silent. Her face contorted in disbelief. "You promised me you wouldn't go anywhere unaccompanied."
Joanna's eyebrows furrowed. "I promised without knowing what I was promising against. Might it have been prudent to tell me the prince is a raping madman?"
"Now you know," he said, fire in his eyes.
Jason let his daughter go, and took his nephew's neck in his strong hand. "You knew." It was not a question. "And you didn't tell me."
"Would it have made a difference?" Tywin asked. "My father would still have commanded she be here."
"But she would have known," Jason warned, his dark eyes filling with rage.
"Father! Tywin!" Joanna shouted, and both men looked at Joanna. "Stop it."
The two men separated, and looked at the fierce little lioness that had awoken in her. "None of this helps. It's over."
"But if even one person saw you leave with him, Joanna, they'll have told half of King's Landing by now," Tywin argued.
"Oh fuck King's Landing," she said. "Fuck everyone here. You know my honor is still intact. My father knows. And if it's ever in dispute, I'll have the maesters examine me and proclaim it in the square myself."
Tywin was silent.
"Unless you mean to break our betrothal because a few gossips say I lost my honor to Aerys Targaryen," she challenged. "In which case, you're a coward and a cad. And all of King's Landing will come to see it."
Tywin bristled. He straightened himself, and took a deep breath. "See that you get some rest, Lady Joanna." At that, he turned and stalked out of the room, leaving Joanna, Jason and Barristan in his wake. He walked the four doors down, and slammed the door to his own quarters before he allowed himself to feel the emotions he had been suppressing.
In his mind, he pictured Aerys Targaryen clawing at Joanna, and her helpless to defend herself. He remembered the real image of her, diminished in her bed, and cursed himself for not watching over her better. He tore off his gloves, his doublet, ripped off his boots, and sat on his bed with his head in his hands. In that moment, he did something he had never done before, and would only ever do once more: Tywin Lannister got down on his knees, and prayed. This prayer he prayed to the Maid, that his betrothed may never come to harm while he was away, and he swore that in exchange for her watching over Joanna, he would spend the rest of his life protecting her.