Joanna's fingers laced through Tywin's as they watched their wedding guests progress from wanting to eat, to wanting to dance, to wanting to get drunk. Lordlings were already becoming acquainted with the bodices of the serving wenches; Princess Rhaella looked unseeingly ahead of her as Prince Aerys consumed what appeared to be his forty-fifth cup of wine; and in the chair directly next to them, Lord Tytos was dropping off to sleep despite the din, his chin nodding onto his chest.

Joanna squeezed Tywin's hand. His skin felt very warm against hers.

'I'm glad you've reconciled with your father,' she said.

'I have not reconciled with my father,' Tywin stated firmly, glancing at the old man out of the corner of his eye, 'I simply condescended to shake his hand.'

'That sounds like a reconciliation to me,' Joanna insisted.

'So did the Host of the Two Kings, and just look what happened to them.'

'Are you mocking me, Tywin?'

'The thought never occurred to me.'

'Oh yes it did!'

Joanna opened her mouth to continue, before promptly clamping it shut again and smiling sheepishly. They were fighting already.

Tywin had clearly had the same thought, because there was light in his eyes, and a smile ghosting around the edges of his mouth. Joanna reached out to touch his lips with her fingers, branding the memory onto her skin and her mind before his face changed again.

'You're a good smiler, Tywin,' she said softly, 'you should do it more often.'

'Should I?' he answered, pausing as Joanna's thumb brushed his bottom lip.

'Though don't think you can just open your mouth and smile at me whenever you want something,' she continued, 'because I won't fall for it, I'll –'

Joanna felt her words swallowed whole as Tywin leaned forward and kissed her; briefly, genteelly, but in public, in front of everyone. He'd never even kissed her in private before.

Smiling beneath his lips, her blood singing, Joanna tasted warmth, sweet red and wetness as Tywin gently cupped her cheek, his thumb trailing lazily down her jaw before he released her, polite and dignified as ever.

Joanna straightened up abruptly, her hand once again finding Tywin's as Prince Aerys roared out his desire for a pitcher of some Volantene rarity that no one had ever heard of and Princess Rhaella turned an even paler shade of white from her unwilling place beside him. Rhaella drained her glass to the dregs and looked at her brother with open hatred, her eyes seeming to burn as black and red as the Targaryen colours adorning her gown.

'Now there is a man that I will never understand,' Tywin remarked, looking at Aerys with something like pity, 'just look at him. Second-in-line to the throne of one of the most powerful dynasties in history; intelligent; good-looking; excellent at anything he puts his mind to; but he cannot even make his own sister love him.'

'That's because she's in love with someone else,' Joanna blurted, saying the first thing that popped into her head.

'You would place the blame entirely with her?' Tywin asked in surprise.

Joanna drew a shaky breath.

'No. No, I wouldn't, I - '

'Joanna, what –'

Joanna willed herself not to look down at her arm under any circumstances; knowing that no good would come of it. But her eyes betrayed her, of course, and within seconds, Tywin was releasing her hand, and reaching for her other arm. His fingers trailed over the fresh scabs on her knuckles, his hands whiter than hers; but when they slipped beneath her sleeve and lightly pulled it up, exposing the blue finger marks that stained the flesh beneath, they became red.

'Did Aerys do this to you?' Tywin asked softly, clearly not trusting himself to speak louder.

Joanna nodded mutely.

'When?' Tywin insisted.

Joanna stared down at where their hands lay entwined.

'Last night; I was in the sept, he…'

Tywin's fingers caressed her knuckles yet again and he winced as his fingertips ghosted over them.

'He grabbed my arm when I tried to run,' Joanna murmured, 'but the knuckles are my fault.'

'Your fault?'

'I…I punched him in the mouth…Tywin, no!'

Tywin had leapt abruptly to his feet with the obvious intention of doing Prince Aerys harm, and Joanna slammed her hand down onto his forearm, turning him to face her before he could move further.

'Don't be stupid!' she hissed under her breath.

'Let go of me, Joanna!' he growled in return.

'If you harm one hair on his silver head, you'll be executed,' Joanna whispered, with as much authority as she could muster, 'you know it. I know it. So sit down.'

Tywin glared at her for a moment more before grudgingly sitting down again and turning to face her once more.

'Explain to me why you may risk execution to protect your honour and I may not,'

'I think Prince Aerys would sooner execute himself that admit to being punched by a girl.'

'Why didn't you tell me about this?' Tywin demanded, suddenly seeming more hurt than angry.

'Because I feared that you'd do something stupid,' Joanna replied.

Tywin looked ready to strangle her.

'The prince insults you in this way and you would have me stand by and do nothing?'

Moved, in spite of herself, by the extent of his wrath, Joanna allowed herself a small smile of contentment before replying.

'I wouldn't have you do nothing, no,' she said, 'But I would prefer it if you acted like a citizen of the Red Keep and not like some country bumpkin who only settles disputes by brawling.'

'You're one to talk.'

'I had no other option at that particular moment. You, on the other hand –'

Tywin sat back in his seat and looked at her, impressed.

'You think I should play him,' he stated candidly.

'It's certainly preferable to getting yourself killed,' she shrugged.

'And you don't think attempting to turn a prince of the realm into a pawn will get me killed?'

'No. Your wits are far sharper than his. One day, when you can no longer hold a sword, you will fight with wits alone, and win. I cannot say the same for Aerys.'

'Aerys is a clever man.'

'But an unobservant one. Fickle. Impulsive. Someday, it will get him killed.'

Tywin was looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time; understanding who she was; what she was; what she meant; and loving her all the more for her newness; her newness that was also oldness. The knowledge made Joanna smile.

'I love you,' Tywin said simply.

'And I you,' she replied, the smile fading from her face as Prince Aerys stumbled to his feet once again, leered openly at the laces of her gown and downed another glass of wine before beginning to speak.

'My lord Father, have you not remarked the lateness of the hour?' Aerys shouted, 'Shall we not bed them and be done?'

Prince Jaehaerys looked so brittle that he might have been made out of porcelain; his thin fingers claw-like around his wine glass as his large, innocent violet eyes sought out his father the King. Remembering that King Aegon had retired hours ago, Jaehaerys sighed, grasped the table with one hand and hauled himself out of his seat, bowing politely to Tywin and Joanna before turning to his son.

'If you cannot hold your liquor any longer, Aerys,' Jaehaerys wheezed, looking on the verge of death despite his words, 'then by all means, let us bed them.'

Joanna's eyes met Tywin's as the din of drunken wedding guests pushing out their chairs and stumbling to the high table echoed from the floor to the rafters; and she was lifted out of her seat onto the shoulders of the male guests; Aerys shouting all the while.

'Come along, my ladies, don't be afraid to tear Lord Tywin's doublet; his father can always buy him a new one! That's the way, my lords, quick work, get her out of that gown, she won't be needing it any longer!'

Joanna craned her neck, but could no longer see or hear Tywin as she was born along on a wave of shouting men clawing at her clothes and touching every part of her that they could lay their hands on. Her septa had told her that it was a bride's duty to suffer the humiliation of her bedding with good grace.

Well, Joanna thought, I have the rest of my life to be bloody graceful.

So she squirmed and scratched and punched as her shoes and stockings were removed and the front of her gown was undone, the guests grunting or shrieking in surprise each time her fist found its mark.

Gasping in horror, she felt a pair of hands touch her middle and run up her stomach, cupping her breasts and coming to her neck; and as she lashed out with her fists and her nails at Aerys, the only fool at court unafraid enough of Tywin to do such a thing, her dress came off completely, leaving her clad in nothing but her corset and shift.

'Gods be good, Lady Joanna!' Aerys was whooping loudly, 'you make me quite regret the abolition of the Lord's Right!'

'Tywin!' Joanna screamed, 'Tywin!'

The sensible men protested, but the drunken ones far outnumbered them, and by the time Joanna was flung onto her wedding bed like a sack of potatoes, one roar from Tywin being sufficient to clear the entire room, Prince Aerys had managed to kiss the nape of her neck, her skin still smarting from his touch.

'I will kill them all,' Joanna muttered to herself as she discarded her ruined clothes, 'I will kill them all.'

As she stood at the basin and scrubbed her neck raw, too angry to be embarrassed by her own nakedness, she heard Tywin at the window, muttering the same words like a prayer.

'I will kill them all. I will kill them all.'