UNVEILED TRUTHS
Joanna's long beaten gold curls wove down till her waist, and she pulled that heavy long hair to the front, hearing to the boring chanting of the Septa Saranella, who was preaching herself and Myrcella the blessings to be taken from the Maiden and importance of high-born ladies to save their maiden head for their future husbands which should be given as an ultimate gift. Jo had no great respect for the Septa, who often thought herself to be God's own messenger. The woman was delusional and often ranted about olden days when Targaryen Kings sent their Princesses to become one among her.
Only a stupid Princess would do that. Thinking of which Jo turned to Myrcella who had kept her folded hand on her lap, imitating Joanna.
"Myr!" Jo called once the Septa left them to read the prayers. "There is truth behind our good Septa's words. Even the Gods want to keep a few Princesses in their hold."
"Oh, really? I always thought you never believed what our Septa said."
Jo never understood why the girl always followed her everywhere she went and repeated everything she said. At times, she just wanted to throw the girl from some top tower to have freedom of her own. But Myrcella was her sister and there was this thing of getting kinslaying curse. So, she simply bore it some times. After all, Myr could never take her Jo's place. So, what was the point in bothering, but that didn't mean she liked everything that girl did.
Her sister had been braiding her hair, copying Jo's style and stitching gowns in Jo's pattern. Disturbing comments such as even Myrcella was looking beautiful was getting lately spread in the Red Keep and Jo hated competition even if it was not true.
"Yes, sister. A King needs only one perfect beautiful Princess and a warrior crown Prince. All the other could be given to the Gods, so the Gods will bless the King to have a prosperous rule."
"Oh. Thank you, sister. I will remember your lesson." Myr said obediently, and Jo wanted to yell at her stupid sister for being a nut-head.
"What I mean is sister..." Jo begun but Myrcella took her arm in hers and gave a sympathetic look.
"Our mother will be distraught to learn that you will take the Faith, Jo. So, please don't think of taking a white robe."
"What?" Jo gave a disgusted frown, pulling her hand away. "You imbecile! How dare you think I should take the white robe. I was the heir to the throne once and the perfect-"
"You are more beautiful than me, I agree." Myrcella cut her off. "But I am better than you in stitching, singing, and soon I may get better at dancing like you. You don't even remember the sigils and their words or the lands and their resources. Even the Septa and the Maester has said the same. So, if we go for perfection-"
Jo gave a slap to her sister, who spoke out of her line and drilled her eyes down upon her. "You can't speak to your elders that way. Sit and stitch, you simple fool. Dressing like me and braiding like me will not make you to become me. I am the Princess. I am Joanna Baratheon. Remember!"
Myrcella's nose flared, and she seemed to get agitated, which only gave some fear to Jo. The girl was mad and silly. Gathering the skirt in her palms, Jo hurried towards her chamber, her heart weighing down in sadness of Myr's word entering her head.
Of course Jo couldn't read easily as a child, the words always confused her. They were twisted and jumbled to her eyes. So, reading and memorizing the sigils gave lengths of pain to her. But that didn't mean she was imperfect. Did King Robert Baratheon remember all the Lords sigils and their words whenever they came for asking a favour in court? Her father was a King because he wielded a war hammer and shoved it right on the dragon Prince's chest.
Her perfection was in becoming like her father, the Demon of the Trident. Not in remembering unwanted names of the lower lords' words. Jo sat on her chair with a long face, reminiscing the time when she used to hear her father's loud laughter as he japed with the knights and warriors around, telling tales of war.
She was a little girl, then, but as she was his heir at that time, and he'd asked her to accompany him to the court, whenever he occasionally sat on the Iron Throne for giving judgements and she'd poured wine to his cup, during the feasts, which was the only thing that made him to be merrier than ever. She remembered how he used to demand her to bring black strong ale over the arbor gold, slapping his round belly. Had any man been stronger, happier and powerful like her father?
Jo could have been the strongest and mightiest warrior just like her father, if that stupid Tommen never came out or if she was born with a cock. Would Tommen be ever able to rule? Who would come to a whining King? Slapping Myrcella felt oddly wrong, but the girl should know how to speak. Father would have broken her tooth if she dared to speak to him the same way as she spoke to Jo. As the firstborn of the royal house, it was her duty to teach her siblings some harsh lessons, so they would become better Prince and Princess. Although they would never come on par to Jo, she had to do the duty to her house.
So, she went to Tommen's play chamber to see how well he was training. Her nose scrunched up and her mouth frowned, seeing him chase a fawn in his chamber.
"Aren't you supposed to train with a wooden sword?" She asked, crossing her hands across her chest.
"Sister..." The boy squealed, his eyes already starting to wet. "Ser Aron said my training was over."
"And how many hours did you train?" The boy simply looked to the ground, staring at his tiny feet. "Did you even lift the stick?" He shook his head, and she had to sigh out loud. He was fat, plump and was already huffing after chasing a tiny fawn. This thing would never become a King Robert. "Tom, you cannot be like this. Look at father. How strong he is and how weak you are. Your arse will tear if you ever sit on the Iron Throne. If you can't-"
"My hands bled when the wood chunk pierced." He sobbed, showing the few dried blood drops on his thick round fingers. "How will I lift a sword when my hand bleeds?"
"You are such a craven!" She spat in disgust. "I don't even know why the Gods sent you to be the heir. Bite the pain and swing your sword. If you squeal for every drop-"
"You don't know that! And I am no craven. I will be the King one day. Mother said everyone will bow before my strength and I can have anything I wished." He sniffed his nose and glared at her with furrowed brows. "I can fight even the Mountain that Rides and defeat the dragon Prince once again if he ever emerged out."
Jo caught the little thing that Tommen was chasing and took it to him. "Prove it, then. Show your strength, like our father." She shoved that dotted animal to his hand, and he blinked like a fool. "When Father goes for a hunt, he always makes sure to bring the skin of the animal he takes. If you really are strong, then skin this dotted thing and prove." She went out to get the knife from Ser Jacelyn, who seemed to be overly resisting to hand over the sharp blade.
When she shoved both the blade and the fawn into Tommen's hand, standing tall in pride, he stared up at her a few times, his emerald eyes cowering in fear.
"But this is my pet. I can't kill it." He whimpered like a girl. She thought of leaving the stupid boy who should have been born as a girl to his devices, but the idea of skinning the fawn excited her.
If she could skin and take it to her father, would he understand that she was more capable than her brother? Her father always admired braveness. He loved hunting, and he loved battles. The thought took root in her head and she plucked both the knife and the fawn from her fat, whiny brother. It was her responsibility to teach him the power of courage and her blood already pumped seeing the animal in hand. Oh! How she longed to see blood.
"Princess..." Ser Jacelyn entered the chamber with a worried face and she glared at him.
"I am teaching my brother a lesson. Make sure he doesn't disturb." She warned and the man simply huffed annoyingly before holding Tommen, who was still asking what was happening. The boy was dumb too. Placing the jumping fawn on the nearby ironwood table, she carefully made the steel to kiss its skin from neck to tail, and when the blood oozed out, she felt her world still. It drenched all over her pale fingers, warming her skin, and dripped down to the carpet. And for the first time, she felt powerful. She understood why men chanted glory about killing. There was tremendous power to hold a life at knife's point.
When the animal's legs kicked in air, suffering and struggling, she imagined herself to be Robert Baratheon shoving the largest war hammer into a squalling Prince. This should have how her father must have felt while taking a life. Her ears were deaf enough to dull her brother's loud wails, and the man took her imbecile of a brother out when she started skinning the dotted fawn, alive.
With bloody hands, bloody green dress, she held the soft dotted skin and took it to her father's solar in pride and joy. He would rejoice, she knew, and might even throw a feast to celebrate her first kill.
"Jo! What happened? Did someone hurt you?" Ser Jaime held her arms with his shaking fingers and stared at her gleeful smile, before looking down at the dead fawn skin.
"I turned out to be a Warrior, not a Maiden, uncle Jaime. Announce my entry. I want to see my father."
"No, no, no... You can't. What have you done?" He was disturbing her, and she simply shoved his hand entering the chamber where his father was sitting with uncle Renly, uncle Stannis, the hand Jon Arryn, and the spy master Varys. She was almost close to see her uncle Stannis's shit eaten face, the same way how it soured when she took his position as heir once. How would it turn when King Robert announced her to be the heir again?
"Father!" She called unable to wait and King Robert's face suddenly changed seeing her bloody clothes. "Oh, no. You are mistaken. This is not my blood but of the animal that I hunted and skinned while it was alive."
"What are you blubbering, girl? Where are your guards and where the hell did you go to hunt?"
His eyes went to the little skin she held, and she took feeble steps to reach him. "In the castle itself. There was this fawn with little Tommen and I sliced the skin with the knife from its throat to tail, just like you did with the dragon Prince. Do you like it?"
Her father's mouth parted open, and he turned back to his council, who whispered something unintelligible. He stared at her with a twisting glare, red faced, beard quivering, before he gave a strong slap that made her roll and fall to the floor.
Her cheeks ached and flared red while tears rolled down her pale skin, unable to understand why would he choose to hurt her, and not recognize her valiant act.
"Seven bloody hells! I can't believe you are born of my seed. Run away before I break your legs. What has your mother been teaching you? To torture little boy's pet?" He screamed and just when she rose up to her feet, Queen Cersei hurried into the chamber with uncle Jaime behind. All the council started disappearing, and she held her shaking jaw that was shivering in pain, unable to believe she was not considered brave. Why?
"How dare you raise your hand on our daughter?" Queen Cersei seethed, pulling Jo into her arms, and King Robert slammed his fist on the table before.
"Take her away before I break her legs. What have you made her to be? I am glad the boy is not like her and if she ever does this again, I will send her to the Sept to become a Septa."
"You think you can get away with this, Robert?" Her mother seethed while uncle Jaime pulled her arm towards the door and she started wailing, unable to believe her father didn't like this. It should be because she wasn't born a boy. "You raise your hand one more time to my daughter and I will break yours."
She heard faint whispers of their quarrel, when uncle Jaime raised her chin to face him. "I wanted to be like him. I thought he will like it." She sobbed, but her uncle seemed to look more confused than understanding.
"This is not hunting, Jo."
"Why?"
"Because you killed a poor creature that was in Tommen's care."
"How does it matter? You killed so many men and Father killed so many men. If what you did is right, then mine is right too." She said loudly, screaming, when he pulled her to his chest.
"My sweet girl!" He cooed her like a baby and she hated him for thinking her someone lower to be consoled. Jaime was not her father to console her. She simply shoved his hand and ran to her chambers, hoping atleast King Robert would come to check on her that night. As usual, he never visited, and she went into bruised sleep that night. But the next day morning, someone came to her with teeth full of smile, and that was the stupid Jeyne.
"Did you get the proof?" Joanna asked in a dull voice, her thoughts still laying heavy of the previous day as she applied fragrant paste to cover the bruise on her cheek. Her half-witted friend opened the pouch that had four teeth, and a small satisfaction came to Jo's face. "Did you see if it was hers?"
"I was there when the man shaved her head and sent her on the slaver's ship. I even saw the ship leaving, Princess. And you should have seen her toothless wails."
"Ah... I don't want to imagine. But I am glad to teach that whore a lesson. How dare she smiled at me during the feast!" Jo lifted the pouch in her fingers and finally felt proud of teaching a lowborn woman, who thought she could climb a ladder by sleeping with the King. At least, she could make her mother happy now. "My mother will be proud of me. I am going to surprise her."
"Shall I join too?" The dumb Westerling asked, and Joanna nodded her head.
They waited in her mother's solar, but the Queen was not coming for a longer time. Jo and Jeyne spent their time inside her mother's bedchamber applying newly arrived scent from Lys that had the fragrance of mixed variety oils of exotic flowers and animals. Finally, when she heard noises, Jo thought of giving a surprise and they both hid inside her mother's wardrobe.
"That brute dared to lift a hand on my girl, Jaime." Her mother said, and Jo felt sad of thinking that her mother was still reliving that moment. The pranking felt useless in that sadness and she tried to come out of the locked wooden door when she heard her mother say, "Our girl. Our first-born. The fruit of our union."
Jo's hand froze in that same place, and she stopped Jeyne's hand that was about to touch the wooden door.
"Jo has some issues, Cersei." Uncle Jaime said when she rose her head above to peep into that tiny hole. "The girl is..."
"She is perfect, just like Myrcella and Tommen. Its all Robert's fault. She just wanted to gain her father's favor. Tommen's birth took away something from her. She did nothing wrong." Her mother screamed.
"I don't care about anyone, woman. Come to me, now, before your King husband returns from the woods." Jaime said before planting a kiss on her mother, and she heard the moans from inside the door. Her hands froze, freezing the time that flew by. And her eyes glued to the twins before who looked identical until they became naked. The man thrusted into her mother's cunt, whispering curses, and her heart almost stopped beating.
No... This could not be true. She should be dreaming. Her Queen mother was perfect, and she wouldn't do this. Her uncle must be forcing her.
"Come into me, Jaime. Ah... Oh, my beautiful brother. My other half! Give me another son. I want that drunken whoremonger horned."
Jo's lids shut close when the whole world went crashing and she held something so hard and tight to forget the truth. Minutes became hours and late at night, when a few fingers latched her arm, Jo woke up to see the darkness in which she was thrown into.
"My Princess!" Jeyne called. "Time to go to bed."
Thank you all :) Was the end obvious? Let me know...
freechimchangas : Thank you... And yeah, femJoff is quite funny to work with. I took the pic from pinterest, while searching for Jon Snow.