Chapter 36

She watched from the window as all of her things were carried out to the wagon. Boxes of gowns given to her by Robb, jewels that had been brought from Winterfell. Winterfell, she though, yearning. She wished for the world she had before King Robert and his horsemen galloped into their courtyard. She wished for Sansa and Arya, for sweet crippled Bran and darling baby Rickon. For Jon. For her father. Her eyes misted at the thought of serene Lord Stark. She envisioned him with little Joanna on his lap, smiling down at her...

She wiped her eyes and grabbed Joanna from her cradle, holding her close. Her perfect, golden haired little girl. The light of her life. The baby gurgled in a fashion that reminded Lyla of Rickon when he was a babe, and she smiled sadly. Would this babe ever know of its family in the North? Or would it be extinguished before she had a chance?

Her door opened and the guard called out a name she thought she might not hear again.

"Lady Catelyn Stark, my lady,"

She looked up to see a red haired woman before her, whose blue eyes were drowning in tears. "My darling, my sweet girl," her mother said. Her eyes traveled down to the bundle in her arms and the tears began to fall. "I had heard there were two."

Lyla looked back towards the window, where the little bunch of dead flowers rested. "My son is dead," she replied stiffly.

Catelyn came to her side and put a kind hand on her shoulder. "No mother should outlive her child. I am so sorry, my love." She pulled the blanket from the babe's head and smiled a melancholy sort of smile. "So beautiful. Golden. What have you named her?"

"Joanna, for Jaime's mother," she said softly, handing her little baby to her mother. They both reclined on her bed, admiring the tiny thing. "They were not ready when I birthed them. I was induced by..." she though of Jaime's confession and sighed. She could not tell her mother, she would never forgive him. Lyla would not have if it were her own son crippled. "I was induced by the great stress of riding to Riverrun from Bitterbridge. I should have known better, I was too far along to ride."

Catelyn frowned. "You should not have left me," she retorted with bitterness staining her voice. "Mayhaps this would not have happened, mayhaps your son would have lived."

Lyla looked up at her mother and finally her built up anger released as salty tears spilling down her cheeks. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I've thought of everything I could have done differently? He was my child, perhaps the only son I'm like to have. I never even saw his face before he died. I only saw him when he was as cold and grey as stone, mother." Her words were like ice, stabbing Catelyn though she did not mean to be so cruel. She looked down at her thriving Joanna and sobbed. "He looked so like Jaime. Golden and beautiful. Jaime named him for father. Lord Eddard Lannister, he would have been. A little Ned of my own."

Catelyn embraced her with a warm hug, kissing her cheek. Their streaming tears met, as did their connections as mothers. "My little wild wolf. You are so strong," her mother said softly. "You must be strong yet, my child. I have tried to reason with Robb, but..."

"But Sansa and Arya are more important," she said plainly, a frown dragging on her lips. "How did they find Arya? I thought she was missing."

"They found her pretending to be a boy with a group of young men destined for The Wall. I assume Ned set it up, but Cersei's men found her soon enough." Catelyn didn't sound upset- rather, she seemed overtly relieved that her daughter had been found. Lyla was too. She missed her wicked little sister. Just as much as she missed her sweet one.

"You will tell them I love them, yes? That I miss them?" Lyla asked, pursing her lips. Catelyn nodded and she did so in return, looking down at her daughter. "Let them know Joanna is healthy, and that their niece longs to see them, as I do."

She rose when the Lannister men came to her door. They were unmistakable in the decedent crimsons and golds of House Lannister. "I must go," she told her mother, who began crying all anew.

"It seems every time I find you, you leave me," she replied through her weeping.

Lyla kissed her mother's forehead and forced herself to smile. "This is for Sansa and Arya," she said before she took Joanna back and nodded to her escorts and followed them out. They did not look familiar, but none looked at her with hard eyes.

When she reached the courtyard, Robb, Edmure, and Jaime all stood in a line to greet her. All were freshly washed and in crisp clothing. Her brother smiled at her, as did her uncle, but Jaime was as hard as rock, with no tell to his emotions- but for when he laid eyes on their baby girl. She caught the flicker of pain that flashed when he saw Joanna.

"Brother," Lyla greeted coldly, allowing him to embrace her. "Uncle," she said, as Edmure kissed the ring on her finger. She went to Jaime and felt her resolve crumbling. She tried to act strong, so as not to give Robb the pleasure- or displeasure- of seeing her weakened by their separation, but when he wrapped his strong arms around her she found it hard not to shed a tear.

"I love you," she told him firmly, "and I will miss you every second that we are apart. You will be safe here, you have my full confidence in that. And in the fact that I will see you soon."

He nodded and kissed her deeply. "It is you who are not safe. Were it any other way, it would be me leaving for the lion's den," he said, trying to reassure her.

"But it is not," she sighed, kissing him again. "I promise we will be together soon. All of us." She handed Joanna to her father and watched as Jaime kissed and held her until the baby cried out happily and giggled. "She will not grow up without you," Lyla vowed.

He nodded. "Of that I promise you, wife."

One of the Lannister guards tugged on her dagged sleeve and she nodded, resentfully removing her eyes and arms from her husband so that she might get into the carriage.

"Your sacrifice moves us all, sister," Robb told her as she climbed into the wheelhouse.

She laughed. "My sacrifice? No, dear Robb, it is your sacrifice, is it not? You chose this, to send me away. It was not I." Her brother's face turned sour and angry, and he called for the carriage to depart.

As she watched her world grow smaller and smaller from out the back window, she couldn't help but feel her heart as it ripped from her chest. Joanna began crying, and she held her baby close, cooing her her. "It's just you and me now, little one. Just you and momma."

They arrived in King's Landing only a few weeks later. Joanna had already outgrown the little gown she'd worn when Robb first brought her to Lyla's chamber, so now the babe wore a fitting gown of bright crimson with a shimmering golden sash- to match her golden curls. Lyla herself wore the opposite- a glittery golden dress with inlays of crimson and a cloak with the crest of Lannister upon it.

Her guards helped her from the carriage and she was greeted by someone she felt almost happy to see. "Lord Tyrion," she greeted. He had been so kind to her on her first trek to the capitol, perhaps that had not been a farce. He smiled up at her and then at the baby.

"Lady Lyla, and my dearest sweet niece. Might I look upon her?" Lyla knelt down and Tyrion grinned so wonderfully at the sight of her. "The perfect image of Jaime, is she not? But for those eyes- how strange they are! They remind me of a fair maiden I read about. Have you heard of Sheira Seastar?"

Lyla smiled. He was kind still. She looked at her daughter's eyes- they had developed on the journey here, one of bright blue like her own, and one of deep emerald, like Jaime's. "Yes, I have," she replied, "though I don't believe she was a maiden, my lord."

He laughed. "Oh, no need for titles. I am your brother now, am I not? Tyrion is just fine."

She nodded and he walked her through the gates. Men and women were lined thickly in the throne room, bowing before her and blessing her and Joanna, but all she could see was the maid forcing the mother's tea down her throat as her father fought to reach her. Tyrion squeezed her hand, pulling her back to the present.

They stopped short of the Iron Throne, where the boy king sat, smugly eyeing her. Cersei sat beside him, and Tommen beside her. Myrcella was absent, and Lord Tywin stood to the right. He saw her immediately and inclined his head. She bowed low, Joanna at her hip. "Your Grace, how good it is to be back at court." The lie came as easily as a blink. It was a world of lie or die, here in the capitol.

Joffrey nodded. "Yes, welcome back, Lady Lannister. I see you have given birth."

She held Joanna closer and offered a tight-lipped smile. "I have, Your Grace. A daughter."

"I heard you had a son as well. Where is he?"

Lyla looked down and fought her hardest not to show her anger. "It has pleased the gods to take him from me, Your Grace," she replied through her teeth, her grip on Joanna the only thing grounding her.

"Lady Lyla." It was Cersei's voice this time. "I am deeply sorry for your loss. I hope you find the comforts of court distracting from your tragic loss."

She could almost see the queen regent smiling in victory. "I thank you," she responded, looking to little Tommen. He looked so excited, grinning from ear to ear. Oh sweet boy, how I've missed you.

"Lady Lannister," Lord Tywin said at last. "Come with me."

She looked down to Tyrion and he nodded, staying behind as she walked with her goodfather to the Tower of the Hand.

"You will be staying close," he said suddenly. "That way any mischief will be happening right under my nose. I hope these chambers suit you well enough." He opened his arm to a room that was all too familiar. It was her old chamber- unchanged from when she left. There were still banners of Houses Stark and Lannister on either side of the bed, the gleaming see-through curtains blowing in the breeze. Even hers and Jaime's clothes were in the wardrobe, half opened from the wind.

"I will send a seamstress to make new gowns for the child," Tywin told her, "and she will be seen by the Grand Maester immediately for an inspection."

Lyla nodded, looking down at her daughter. "She is in perfect health, I assure you-" Joanna began to sniffle and then began to wail, and without a thought Lyla handed her to Lord Tywin as she went to grab a toy from one of the chests that had once been Tommen's before he abandoned it in her chamber. When she returned, she witnessed something she thought impossible for such a callous man.

Lord Tywin was rocking Joanna, and even cooing gently. He was as tender with her as Jaime was. She cleared her throat, but it was like he didn't hear her. For a moment he was in his own world with the little babe.

She pursed her lips. "My lord," she tried, and he looked up at her sharply with his pale green eyes, flecked with gold. "Joanna is probably tired, I should put her to rest."

He raised a brow when she mentioned her child by name. "Joanna?" He questioned. "Something Jaime suggested?"

She smiled down at her baby as she took her back. "No, my lord," she said. "I named her."

The Great Lion stared at her with a queer look in his eyes before he looked away bitterly. "I will have a cradle brought up," he said curtly before taking his leave.

After the men had finished bringing her belongings up, she laid down with Joanna on her chest. The baby was distracted with the small jingling toy of Tommen's, and Lyla started at her with soft eyes. She truly was a darling baby, so beautiful. Just like her father. And her eyes. She would surely be a becoming young woman when the time came.

She sighed and wondered if Jaime would ever see her as such. "I love you," she said absentmindedly, to Joanna, and in a way, to Jaime.

But love would not carry her thousands of fathoms to him, and she cried openly, for she was alone here in the Den of Death.