V

Godswood

All of the Baratheon children took their supper in their mother's chambers that evening. Desmera had long since woken Joanna, and was re-braiding her hair when Senelle, Cersei's chief maidservant, came knocking at the door. She was led to Cersei's chamber to find all of her siblings already there. Joanna assumed that the table in the room was put there upon special request, as there was hardly enough room for it.

Once she had sat, Cersei reached across the table to hold one of Joanna's hands.

"You didn't join us in my chamber," she said, running a thumb across the back of her hand. The way Cersei spoke sometimes, it was difficult to tell how she was feeling. Joanna couldn't glean anything from her mother, and took a moment to respond.

"I wanted to retire before dinner," she replied. "I was tired from the hunt."

The curl of Cersei's lip gave away her emotion, but that was no surprise. Joanna knew well just how much her mother disapproved of her accompanying her father on his hunts.

"That was a pitiful hunt," said Joffrey. He leaned back in his chair haughtily, wiping his mouth with his napkin. Joanna bowed her head, hoping to avoid his attention. In times when their mother wasn't around, she could let him get her riled up, because she could spit insults back at him. But in the company of their mother, she had long since learned to keep quiet. That was generally what Cersei wanted of her, anyways. "Those Stark boys hardly have true aim. And those beasts of theirs scared away any game before we could shoot it."

"You're just angry because they caught pheasant and you caught nothing," said Joanna. Immediately, she regretted her words, knowing that with her mother's sour mood lately, it would be all the easier to trigger her temper. She kept her head bowed and her eyes low, picking at her food. The less combative she looked, the more likely Cersei was to ignore her words.

Joffrey was not so easy to placate.

"Any fool could catch a pheasant," he hissed. She could feel the vitriol in his gaze even without looking up from her food. Still, she dutifully kept her mouth shut, as did the others who all knew better than to interrupt Joffrey when he'd found something to rant about. "It was a mercy that the hunt ended so quickly. Those Stark boys could never keep their dignity otherwise, unless they butchered those beasts of theirs and served those up for supper."

Once Joffrey had quieted, the dinner continued for several moments uninterrupted. The only sound in the room was the flicker of the fireplace and the scrape of silverware on the plates. Joanna staunchly kept her gaze averted from everyone in her family, trying to tune out their presence in order to make it through the rest of the dinner. All she had to do was wait until her mother had finished eating, shuffle around her food so it looked like she'd eaten, and then she could leave.

"It's so terrible what happened to Bran," came Myrcella's sweet voice. Joanna's gaze finally rose away from her plate to her younger sister. She didn't seem all that interested in her food, either.

"It's not terrible," Joffrey countered, rolling his eyes. "It was to be expected. Such a feeble boy could never have the strength to be climbing that tower. He was a fool."

Joanna failed to resist the urge to slam her fork back onto the table.

"How dare you say such things," she hissed, glowering across the table at her brother, "about a boy on the edge of death."

"It's true," Joffrey shot back hotly. "He was a fool for climbing the tower and it's his own fault he fell. He deserves to die for making such a mistake –"

Joanna shot to her feet, her seat colliding with the bed behind her, and reached across the table to box Joffrey around the ear. His hands shot to his ear with an angry howl, but Joanna never got the chance to feel the satisfaction set in. Cersei had stood as well and grabbed Joanna by the arm, pulling her out of the chamber and through the hall. She knew immediately that they were headed in the direction of her father's chambers, and Joanna could feel her mood sinking lower and lower the further they walked.

Cersei entered Robert's chambers unannounced. They found him sitting at his desk with a goblet in hand, doublet undone. Joanna had the presence of mind to faintly be glad that he wasn't abed with a whore when they walked in. Cersei's hand tightened around her arm.

"What is the meaning of this?" Robert asked.

"She hit Joffrey," Cersei explained tightly.

"He deserved it!" Joanna huffed, but was promptly ignored by both of her parents.

"What do you want me to do about it?" he asked, then drained the last of his drink. "They're your children."

"You taught her this behavior, you punish it."

"I haven't taught her a damn thing." Without allowing Cersei to respond, Robert turned to Joanna. "Why have you hit him?"

"He was saying horrible things. He deserved it!"

"He deserved no such thing," Cersei hissed, but Robert raised a hand to silence her.

"I hate him," Joanna continued, barely resisting the urge to stomp her foot. "I hate him!"

"He's your brother," Robert grunted.

"I don't care," Joanna huffed. "I hate him. He's terrible and I wish he were dead. I wish he'd fallen from the tower instead of Bran."

He words were punctuated by a sharp slap, one which sent her stumbling back. Cersei lowered her hand slowly and Joanna brought a hand up to nurse the wound.

"Never say that about your brother again," she seethed.

"I hate all of you," Joanna retaliated thickly, whirling around and storming out of the room, slamming the chamber door behind her. Cersei turned her narrowed eyes to Robert.

"This is your fault," she hissed.

"My fault that you gave her your temper?"

"She swings her fists at the slightest provocation like you do," Cersei spat.

"Children hit each other. There's never a pair of siblings that don't fight."

"Joanna is not allowed to go on hunts with you. Every time, she returns unruly. You turn her into you."

"Be gone from here, woman," Robert grunted, waving her off. He refused to look at her. She didn't say another word, instead whirling around and leaving the room as well. The door slammed once more as Robert poured himself another drink.

Instead of storming back to her chambers, Joanna made her way out of the keep. The night air was cold and sharp, especially without the extra protection of a cloak, but she was all the happier for it. It was just the remedy she needed to cool her heated blood. She wandered around the edge of the courtyard, curling and uncurling her hands. She could still feel the sting on her palm from striking Joffrey, and the sting on her cheek from being slapped by her mother. The satisfaction and the humiliation balanced each other out fairly well.

"Sneaking out?"

The voice stopped her in her tracks, and she silently hoped to herself that she wouldn't find Lord Stark standing behind her. Turning, her shoulders relaxed slightly. It wasn't Lord Stark, but rather his bastard son, though Joanna remarked that their gruff voices were strikingly similar. She shifted on her feet, brow furrowed.

"Are you going to tell?" she asked. He shrugged his shoulders limply.

"Not if you don't want me to."

"I don't want you to," she replied immediately. He gave a solemn nod. There was silence between them for a moment; Joanna wondered if it would be rude to turn around and walk away.

"Is there a reason why you're wandering off?" he asked.

"I hate my brother and I wish he'd never been born," she replied hotly. His eyebrows rose a hint.

"Sounds childish," he said.

"Well it's true." As soon as the words left her mouth, she remembered herself. The Starks were mourning, Jon included. He didn't deserve to be spat at because she was angry. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and letting her clenched hands fall loose. "I'm sorry about your brother. It's terrible. If anything like that had ever happened to Tommen...I couldn't imagine."

Jon bowed his head slightly, nodding. "Thank you."

"What are you doing out so late, anyway?"

"I was going to the Godswood."

Impetuous, Joanna didn't realize that it was likely so he could pray for his brother. Instead, she asked, "Can I come with you?"

"If you like," he shrugged.

They walked together in silence as they made their way through the courtyard and into the Godswood. What quiet sounds of the night had surrounded them before suddenly fell silent as they entered the wood; the only sound there was the quiet whisper of wind through the leaves and their shuffling footsteps on the ground. Jon sat at the pond, shoulders slumped. Joanna wandered through the trees, stopping finally to stare up at the crying face of the heart tree. It was a haunting sight, and the pale bark of the tree looked like it was glowing in the pale light of the moon.

"There's a Godswood in the Red Keep," she said absently. "I've only been there once. The heart tree there is an oak, but it's not as pretty as this one."

She reached out to run a gentle finger over the white bark of the tree.

"Who gave you that bruise on your face?" Jon asked suddenly. Joanna's hand fell away from the tree in shock. She turned to face Jon, only to find that he was still looking down at the still water of the pond. She reached a hand up to touch the sore spot on her cheekbone. She hadn't realized it had bruised. Jon must have noticed before and not said anything. Thinking back to her encounter with her parents, her hand fell away.

"It's not important."

She walked over and sat beside him on the rock that overlooked the pond. She sat so their shoulders were almost touching, unconsciously trying to leech from his warmth. He'd had the foresight to wear his cloak. If she didn't think she'd be locked in her room the moment she returned, she'd go and get hers. Instead, she looked down into the pond, watching the moon's reflection dance on the surface of the water.

"How come you've never said much?" she asked him, keeping her voice quiet in the silence of the wood. "I always see you with your brother, but whenever I'm around you don't say anything. Do I upset you?"

"No," said Jon, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Lady Stark doesn't want my presence to offend you or any of your family."

"So that's why you weren't at the feast that night."

Jon nodded. Joanna fiddled with her hands, trying to keep them from shaking in the cold. It embarrassed her that she'd forgotten her cloak, and that she was shaking so badly when Jon hardly seemed phased. Here in the Godswood, the home of the Northern gods, with no cloak and frozen to the bone, she'd never felt more out of place.

"Well, you don't offend me," she said finally. Her teeth chattered lightly. "In fact, I think I'd like it if you spoke more."

"You would?" Jon didn't seem all too invested in the conversation, focus still down on the water.

"They say my father has bastards all over the realm," she shrugged. "It's not their fault my father can't keep his cock in his pants - nor yours that your father didn't. I don't see why that should offend me. People like my mother can be uptight about that sort of thing, but -"

She cut off abruptly, finally turning to look at Jon. He was hardly paying attention to her, staring down at the water but not really seeing anything. He was far too lost in his thoughts - and for good reason. It finally dawned on Joanna why he might have been coming here.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, feeling like the biggest idiot in all of the Seven Kingdoms. Never mind a bastard offending her, she was making an ass of herself right in front of him. "You probably came here to pray. Do you want me to leave you alone?"

Jon thought for a moment. His whole family was inside, keeping vigil over his brother, and where was he? Banned from Bran's bedroom. Sat in the cold of the godswood, the only place that Lady Stark couldn't stop him from being, with only the princess for company. And it was true, he had come here to pray. He had come here because it was the one place in Winterfell where he was truly welcome.

But it did feel nice to not be alone. After all, the place he wished he was most was Bran's bedroom, surrounded by his family. Perhaps Princess Joanna did ramble a bit, but it was nice to have someone sitting beside him. It made him feel like less of an outcast. If Princess Joanna wanted to keep him company, then Lady Stark was wrong about him, right?

"I don't want to inconvenience you, my lady," he replied.

"Of course not," she said. "I don't want to be the one to inconvenience you."

"You're welcome to stay." He looked down again, somewhat bashful. "I'm a bit...distracted."

"You have every right to be," she said softly. She tilted her head slightly, eyes tracing his face, before scooting slightly closer. They sat in silence together for several moments. A soft rustle of leaves on the ground was the only sound that announced the presence of the direwolf. Joanna looked up as it approached, gasping quietly when she saw it nearing.

"To me, Ghost," said Jon. He noted the way Joanna stiffened as Ghost passed. "He won't hurt you. Hold out your hand."

Joanna did as he bade, however reluctantly, and offered her hand for the wolf to sniff. He regarded her with piercing red eyes before sniffing her hand. When he'd deemed her not a threat, he settled down at Jon's feet, resting his head on his paws. The howl of wolves no longer filled the air as it had earlier that evening, so Jon figured that Bran's direwolf had finally gone to sleep. He and all of his siblings had sat beneath Bran's window and howled all afternoon.

"He's a beautiful creature," Joanna said quietly. "Does he mind you well?"

"When he wants to," Jon shrugged. She was intrigued by the beast, cautiously reaching down to pet him. When he didn't react to her hands nearby, she ran her fingers through the soft fur on his neck. Jon took her distraction as a chance to examine her face from close quarters. He had seen the bruise from afar in the light of the courtyard, but in the moonlight it was difficult to see at a distance. With their proximity now, Jon could see that the bruise was darkening on her cheekbone.

No commoner would dare lay a hand on a royal, so he knew that whoever had given her the bruise must have been close to her. If her brother had struck her, surely she would have ranted and raved about how much she hated him for hitting her, but she didn't. When he asked, she had moved away from the subject. Lady Stark wasn't kind to him, but neither she nor his father had ever laid a hand on him, or any of his siblings for that matter. Jon wondered if it was the King or the Queen who was responsible, but he didn't have the gall to ask.

"Why was your brother climbing the tower?" she asked quietly, sitting straight again after giving Ghost one final scratch behind the ears.

"Bran loves to climb," he replied. His smile was wistful and sad. "He's always had sure footing before. No one was ever worried."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," she said. "I'll pray that the gods will make him better."

Jon wasn't sure what kind of influence the gods of the south had on matters of the North, but he was sure that anything helped. A violent shudder shook Joanna's shoulders, and Jon suddenly realized that she hadn't brought a cloak.

"Are you cold?" he asked. Joanna shook her head, but another shudder begged to differ. "You haven't got a cloak. You should have gone inside."

"I'm fine," she denied. He noticed the way she clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. It made him chuckle.

"You're shivering so bad you can barely speak. I'm sorry I kept you out here. You should go in before you freeze. It's late, anyways. I'm sure someone's missing you."

"I suppose you're right." Joanna offered him a small smile before standing. She reached and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Goodnight, Jon."

"Goodnight, Princess," he said quietly, eyes following her as she stood. He watched her walk away from him, back towards the entrance of the godswood. Shortly before she disappeared from sight, she turned back to look at him over her shoulder. She gave him a small smile and raised her hand in a half-hearted wave before she slipped away through the gates of the Godswood.

A/N: Hello again everyone! Wasn't that a damn great finale? Season 7 is gonna kick my ass, I can't wait.

Giant thanks today to ZabuzasGirl, darkwolf76, recey2010, HPuni101, Emmachibi, Lt-Sport89, and laura-firewalker for the reviews! Shout out as well to everyone who's added this fic to their faves and follows. I really appreciate the support so much! By this point, I'm so excited to write all of Joanna's story that I don't think anything could stop me, but it's very comforting and encouraging to know that there are people who enjoy my work.

Today's chapter, we explored a bit more of the family dynamic in a segment I like to call Keeping Up with the Baratheons, and we also finally have some interaction with everyone's favorite bastard. We'll be moving into the actual plot of the show from now on, which I hope you guys find as exciting as I do!

By the way, just as a note to everyone, this story is unbeta'd, and I tend to to most of my writing/editing late at night. So, I apologize for any and all mistakes! If you find a mistake, especially one that's particularly distracting, please let me know and I'll go back and edit! I also really appreciate any and all constructive criticism that you guys might have to give.

Jon has always been a bit of a difficult character for me to pin when it comes to writing, so hopefully I wrote him believably. Please let me know if he seems if character! If not, I'll go back and edit and try to work it out.

The next chapter should hopefully be out in a timely manner! I start classes next week, so we'll see how things go in terms of writing from here on out, but like I said, I'm really excited to write this story. Hopefully I can keep up a decent schedule of updating even while school is on. But, I'll be writing my butt off the rest of this week to try and get a head start on these next few chapters.

Thank you all for reading and dealing with my rambling author's notes. It really means so much!

Until next time,

Rex