Princess Joanna Baratheon

The chirping noises of little birds near the window along with a ray of blood red sun beam falling on her crescent-shaped face, gave unsettling disturbance to her slumber, and she woke up throwing the quilts away from her body.

"Jeyne..." Joanna screamed, calling her bed-maid who slept like a royal in her own bed. "Wake up, you stupid girl." She had to push her hand-maid out from the bed and see her arse landing on the carpet to wake the sleepy head.

Joanne had no inkling of likeness to the insipid creature, but her Queen Mother insisted on taking the girl as a companion.

"Joa-" Joanna's eyes flamed, unable to believe the creature would even think itself to call a royal by her name. "Sorry, my Princess. What is the problem?"

"Problem?" She screeched, unable to believe the thing had no insight of the issue at hand. "Can't you hear to those noises? Go... Go and find one of the royal guards, before I burn your wretched hair."

"But... The Kingsguards will not..."

When Joanna rose up and walked towards the Westerling girl, she twisted her ear and said, "Learn... Find your ways to make the things work with what you have. That is your duty." When the girl jumped as though hot water was poured into her leg, she relaxed her arm, unable to believe her mother bought the waste trash all the way from Westerlands.

Once the girl ran out in search of finding the royal guard, she decided to put an end to that idea of ever sharing a bed with another scum lower than her status.

Even though she was close to see only ten name days, when Joanna stood in front of the mirror, coming just out from bed, she could see the enigmatic beauty that resembled close to her Queen Mother. With the golden curls that shone for the sunrise and with her plump pout lips, she considered herself to be even more beautiful than the Queen herself.

Myrcella was merely a poor copy of Joanna, like a half-cooked meal. And Tommen... Oh... That boy. She prayed the Stranger to give him an easy death, so the realm would soon come to her hands as the sole heir to the Demon of the Trident, King Robert Baratheon. Tommen wouldn't live longer, though. The boy was weak and cried for every ant that died when he walked. What kind of King would he become after Father?

It was Ser Barristen Selmy who ran towards her, unsheathing his sword in panic. Joanna shifted her eyes at the Westerling bitch who had her clothes torn and she easily guessed how the girl made the royal guard to come for Jo's service.

"My Princess... Please come to my side." Ser Barristen offered his arm, gallant as ever and Jo had to roll her eyes.

"Relax, Ser. There are no intruders in my chambers. Don't you try to add any shame to my name." She chided silently at the stupid Jeyne for thinking, acting as a harmed maid might get the royal guard's attention sooner.

When Ser Barristen's lips quivered hearing the insult, Joanna realized she played him too much. "I would never, my Princess. The lady said..."

"I must apologize, Ser." Her swaying hips took her close to the white guard, who she despised the most. But almost all men in the Kingsguard gave a second glance when she walked by, save for her uncle Ser Jaime and Ser Barristen. Wouldn't the old man have blood running in his cock? She wanted to test it, and sincerely she latched her fingers in his. "My friend in is a simpleton. And sometimes at night, she dreams of wild things and tears her dress like this." She fluttered her eyelashes and tried to wipe a few unshed tears.

The old man turned to see that stupid creature and realizing Joanna's wrath, the girl bent her head, nodding as expected. When Joanna's fingers brushed against Ser Barristan's fingers, the man turned towards her in a shocked glare. It was getting boring, and the man was not praising her like how Ser Meryn Trant would shower glory of her beauty or like Ser Mandon Moore, who had nothing but gallant curtsies. The game with the old man was simply boring.

"But you insulted me, Ser. What if men learn there was an intruder in my chamber and stole my maidenhead, even when there was none?" She defiantly raised her brows and the old guard started apologizing honestly with all his heart, which only became another boring session for her. "The least you could do for all the damages you did is to, kill all those rattling birds near my window."

"Birds...? You want me to kill them?" Ser Barristen asked in surprise.

"You see, my little Jeyne gets the horrible dreams only when they sing the song. It will serve as a good meal for the poor, in the streets tonight. Wouldn't you help your princess?" Joanna asked politely, wounding her arm around Jeyne's body and the guard had no words to refuse, before he quietly walked near the window, and slashed the throat of five little creatures, while the rest five simply flew away.

The blood oozing out from their neck, that dripped down to the wall, gave her a moment of satisfaction and her eyes glued on to the dripping blood, before sensing the royal white cloak servant whispering something unintelligible. She waved her hand, dismissing the guard, before entering into her bath chamber, and asked for Jeyne to clean her smooth skin, till her mind came out from the blood that spilled.

Joanna Baratheon's tenth nameday was a celebration that gave competition to her imbecile of a brother's first nameday, to whom both her father's and mother's attention turned to, for the last five years. It was said that her father had celebrated Joanna's arrival to the world by ringing the bells of King's Landing for a whole week and threw a tourney in her name, that made the realm look forward to a prosperous future.

And during her initial days in court, Joanna often looked up to her Queen Mother, next to her father. She had dreamed several days to grow up with her Mother's beauty, along with her father's charisma to rule the Seven Kingdoms. Joanna was named the heir to the throne by King Robert Baratheon himself, when Myrcella was born, and all the joy even doubled.

The minstrels from all the Seven Kingdoms wrote songs about her beauty, and she considered herself to be Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, who was named as heir by her sire. Everything went too perfect until that little monster came out of her mother's womb with a little stick between its leg and stole everything from Joanna.

Tommen did not just stole her crown, but her mother's love and her father's attention. She was no more the heir; they said, and she had screamed for Seven days to the Seven Gods to give her position back even as a five-year-old babe. All she received was five finger marks on her cheeks by her King Father, who said to Queen Cersei, "This thing always cries when I lift it in my arms ever since a babe. Make it stop, woman. Else I will have to..."

It didn't make any sense when her mother cooed her that night and explained how the crown always went to a man. And she argued the whole night till her uncle Jaime came to take her away for the night, telling tales of monstrous Kings who wanted to blow up the whole world just because they didn't want it to be given to others. He even went ahead to advise her to understand the prospect of acceptance.

"Isn't that a wonderful notion, Ser Jaime? If I have that power, I will kill everyone in this wretched city, so Tommen can never take what's mine." She responded and her uncle chuckled at that time like she was a fool.

If anyone was a fool, it would be her uncle, Ser Jaime Lannister. There was no reason of doubt in that. Who would give up Casterly Rock just so the King could be protected? And what a wonderful job he did the last time.

Mocking that thought of how her grandfather managed to produce only a fool and a dwarf for sons, while he forgot her Queen Mother's glory, Joanna thought something vicious, as she picked the roasted lamb from the meals served in the celebration.

"Mother..." She called dearly, adjusting her crimson gown. "Do you think I can take Casterly Rock in your name?"

Joanna had to explore her choices, realizing how in a few name days her father would send her away to some lickspittle lord's castle to bear children for some low-level lords. She wouldn't go for any lesser men.

"Jo, what have we said about not speaking the issues of inheritance during a gathering?" Her mother chided, carefully letting out a smile to hide the anger.

"You refused me the throne. And will you not even speak about which house I can get?" She almost screamed before a handsome boy almost resembling her uncle Jaime Lannister offered his arms.

"My Princess... Will you do the honor of sharing a dance with me?"

Lancel... The little moron who she despised to the heart. Had it been Ser Jaime who never took a white cloak, she would have gladly married him and gave him a dozen children to secure her place in Casterly Rock. Her dwarf uncle was a jape to everyone's eyes, and even if her father rewarded her with thousand slaps, she would never spread her legs for that monster. And then there was this thing... Lancel Lannister, a very poor image of her uncle, just like Myrcella for Joanna, who was trying to gain her favour.

Smiling politely like how her Septa Saranella taught to behave, she accepted his arm in one hand while her other hand gathered her skirt. Walking towards the centre of the hall, when every lickspittles mouth was sewed tight looking at her glorious beauty, she danced elegantly, her legs tapping in rhythm and her hip swaying for each beat from the musician.

When everyone roared a thunderous clap, and she decided to retire to her seat, her other uncle, Renly Baratheon, offered his arm. Her glee only tripled seeing his advance. While her one plot was to settle for Casterly Rock, her main plot was to get married to her uncle Renly and take the seat of her father's house, Storm's End, that would forever let her keep the Baratheon name, just as she was born.

And to add crown to that prospect, her uncle was the closely resembling man to her father in looks. He even had a very decent dressing etiquettes and better table manners than her father. Who knew what could happen if Tommen accidentally died in a horse ride? If she was married to Renly Baratheon, then they both could rule the Seven Kingdoms, just like her mother and father. It would be perfect.

"You have grown up, niece, and the feast seems to only glow with more glory of your beauty." Renly commented, making Joanna blush like a shy maid.

"Thank you, uncle. Do you think you have time to spend with me on the morrow? We could go-"

"Oh, no... I am sorry, Joanna. I have promised to take my friends from Highgarden out for a visit to the silk street." He denied, and she had to fake a smile before bursting out a curse. She wouldn't beg him, though.

The whole evening went in a flash of a second, during which she had to hear Tommen crying thrice to stop the music from the singers, and Myrcella wet her dress by pouring wine all over her dress. They were royals but except Joanna everyone behaved like little imbeciles.

"Stop that wailing noise, woman! Do you see me having tits to sooth that boy? Take him away and leave us to enjoy..." Her father roared as he slapped a serving wench's behind before pulling her into his lap. Joanna's cheeks flared seeing her mother scurry her skirt to pick up Tommen and leave the Hall. That was unfair. She loved her father, and she always admired him. But how could he seek a lowborn in front of all the guests over her own beautiful mother?

"Father... Perhaps it's time to retire for all of us." Her voice came so soothingly, trying to coerce him, as she did with other men.

"And who do you think you are to order me?" He bellowed, thrusting his hand on the table, calling for the attention of the crowd.

"I am your daughter. Your first born. And this is my nameday... Let us wrap up the feast."

"And I am the King, girl. I decide when to begin and when to end." He roared before burying his face into the tits of the scullery maid in his lap, who gave a mocking smile to her face. Joanna prepared to remember the face of that ignorant thing that didn't know its place, before she ran out from the Great Hall, unable to see all the eyes of all those lickspittles on her crying face.