JOANNA I

Casterly Rock stood several feet tall and was built sturdy enough to withstand time itself. It had outlasted her ancestors and will, without a doubt, outlast her too. That's why Father is obsessed with the legacy of House Lannister, is how she would find herself excusing his harsh behavior during her more reflective moments.

Keeps, lands and castles were still left standing once the people living inside them perished. Even Harrenhall, the fortress burnt by Aegon I the Conqueror with dragon fire, had endured whereas its habitats had not.

The breeze wisped past her hair as she stood on the walls of the Rock, overlooking the sea, a sea that was reflected in Joanna's own eyes.

Before she could ponder over things further, her musings got interrupted by one of her servants.

"A raven, my lady Lannister." the man said, extending the golden tube that undoubtedly contained a letter, bowing his head as he did so.

Joanna turned away from the sea, accepting the tube and pulling out the paper, unrolling it swiftly. She recognized her father's handwriting immediately even if the golden lion sigil were to be missing. Her eyes quickly scan it.

《 My dearest daughter,

It seems like the time has come for you to join the war, in spite of my efforts to keep you away from it but I am afraid your sister and nephew have left me with no choice. I need trusted eyes and a capable hand — both of which you have — in King's Landing lest we risk losing. I cannot count on Jaime, who is being held prisoner and I cannot count on Cersei to keep her son in line.

Which is why I am entrusting it to you. And, regretfully, to your younger brother. Tyrion will join you in two weeks' time from the moment I send you the letter, so I imagine he would have already arrived by the time this reaches you. He is to act as Hand of the King in my stead. Make sure he doesn't fail at it. And Joanna...

Do not let them kill a lioness of Casterly Rock, for I shall rain the entire wrath of the West upon them, see how much their gods help them then. Safe travels, child. Until we meet again.

Your lord father,

Tywin》

Joanna rolls back the parchment, tucking it next to the sword at her side while her guard asks. "Troubled news, my lady?"

"Oh no, not at all." she looks up with a smile. "In fact, I rejoice in them, Ser Trant." Her eyes crinkle at the corners, the sea still reflecting in them.

"Prepare fifty men, I am taking them with me on my way to King's Landing. Let the closest to us know of my departure and tell the rest you know nothing. My aunt Genna will rule the Rock in my place from the moment my feet make it past the gates."

"Yes, Lady Lannister."

She makes it to the capital two days after her brother Tyrion has already arrived and seized control of the capital, her white horse stepping through the large doors and further into the throne room, much to everyone's surprise.

Tyrion's eyebrows nearly reach his hairline though his eyes are lit up regardless. It's Joffrey who speaks up first, however, from where he is seated on the Iron Throne.

His voice quiets down the whispers.

"Auntie, to what do I owe the pleasure for? It seems all of my family is rushing to meet with me these days, now that I rule the Seven Kingdoms."

He still recognizes her, that's good, Joanna smirks a bit, guiding her horse closer to him. Last time she had come here had been three, maybe three and a half years ago, for all she's counted.

"The honour of seeing you again is all mine, Your Grace." she bows her head, a valiant show of loyalty that she half felt only, ever since hearing of his misconduct. She had known the boy to be rather hard to manage but she's never imagined things growing out of proportion the way they had.

What is Cersei thinking?

Even so, she schools her features expertly. No use in getting on her nephew's bad side on the first day of her arrival. There's plenty of time for that later, no doubt.

"What brings you here though, surely you couldn't have come just to see me sit on the Iron Throne, no?" he jokes, causing a few people to laugh before he looks back at her, waiting for an answer.

"That wouldn't be entirely true, no. You have a sharp eye, your Grace. I have come to help you in your royal endeavors, it would please me if you permitted it as you need trusted, loyal people by your side in those unforgiving times and well, who better to be there for your Grace than family?"

He takes a moment to digest what she's told him, after Joanna tried to make it seem as though this was not all part of some bigger ploy, one than his brain was too young and undeveloped to figure out, trying to make him think her involvement in his affairs would be his decision and his alone.

"You speak truth, you may be allowed to stay and to counsel me, as you see fit for you are the only woman I respect to do so, even my own Mother hasn't that privilege, do you understand?"

Joanna doesn't need to glance Cersei's way to know the statement must have insulted her pride. But what could she do? Ever since seeing her fight with a sword and take down men three times her size, Joffrey had labeled her 'The Second Visenya Targaryen' and no one has managed to convince him otherwise since.

Though for how much longer she'll get to keep his respect remains to be seen.

"Court, let me introduce you all to Lady Joanna Lannister, you will show her the same courtesy that I do or suffer the consequences."

Following that, most of the nobles present bow their head in unison.

By the Seven, she thinks as she turns her horse around.

Joffrey has put the fear of the Gods in those people...

"Guards, bring me the Lady Sansa, and her brother." he orders them with Joanna guiding her horse to make way for them to pass.

The two Stark children alongsides the Princess Myrcella, her niece, make their way inside the throne room, with the latter glued to the young boy's arm.

"Your grace." He says rather coldly, his aloof expression soon turned soft as he cups Myrcella's face, the girl flushing red as he did so.

"Go by your mother, she will need your sunrays to rise her moods." he tells her then continues. "You as well, dear sister, although the king most likely wants you close." The last part is said bitterly, kissing her forehead before making his way towards the king.

"Dearest aunt, meet my soon to be brother in law. This filth is the middle son of traitor Ned Stark." The king exclaimes before he begins to laugh, Lyark's eyes turning cold as he grips his small foreign sword.

"Watch your tone, lest you sleep with both eyes open at night. Your grace-"

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN HIS GRACE-" One of the Kingsguard intervenes before finding himself on the receiving glare of a glare as cold as the North itself.

"I am not threatening his grace, I am advising him of better judgement. Next time you speak ill to me, I will throw my knives at your head. Now that was a threat, do you comprehend the difference, commoner?"

His words cause some of the lords and ladies present to chuckle.

Joanna's eyes narrowed, at first because of how Joffrey labelled the boy though he looks more man than anything, in both height and the somber look upon his face, no doubt the death of his father must have aged him.

As it would anyone. she thinks, ducking her head. Traitor or not, that was no way to speak of someone's dead. But although she heavily disagrees, Joanna has no time to tell it to Joffrey because the Stark lad speaks up first.

That's the second time her eyes narrow, thinking:

What had become of King's Landing these past few years?

They looked like squabbling children. The king and the lord of an ancient house, both. Except one had dominion over the Iron Throne while the other had the guts and sword to cut through him, should he ever be reckless enough.

Joanna jumps down from her horse, marching up the steps to get in between them.

"There's no need to go at each other's throats, is there? Ser-Whatever-Your-Name-is, trust that if the King were to be ever threatened, I would be the first to slice the person in half, no matter who it is." she says, looking into the Stark man's eyes with clear intent.

Then the seriousness of her gaze dissipates, which somehow makes her appear even more dangerous, the smile she dones is misleading. "The boy is right, though. You better learn the difference between a threat and constructive criticism or next time I hear foolishness come out your mouth, I will find his Grace a Kingsguard who already knows it."

"Yes, my lady," he bows his head, broadening the grin on Joanna's face.

"Good, now–" she claps her hands.

"–Bring the King and the rest of my family their gifts."

At once, three of her men come forward, each carrying satchels and boxes in different shapes and sizes, all containing presents for every last family member currently in King's Landing.

Joanna did not forget the Starks, either, for they are still to be her family in name if not by blood.

"One hell of a family..." the Stark lording mumbles under his breath, yet still loud enough to be heard as he refuses to open his gift, the opposite of his sister Sansa who seemed to be overcome with joy.

"Now now, my little falcon. I am sure my sister means well, do you not, Jo?"

There's a crease to Joanna's forehead, overshadowing her smile when she hears Cersei call her a nickname she's not heard in years, wondering what in the gods' name could have prompted her to use it now.

She recovers fast, though, nodding her head. "Of course. I am no coward, little lording. If I wished to have you killed, it would be this hand..." she taps the hilt of her sword, a trick she's often employed to make people think she was right handed, when in fact she fought with her left. "...that strikes you, not a gift I brought in good faith, I do not execute anyone whose life I am not ready to take myself. Now open your gift or I will have someone else open it for you, if you are really that afraid."

The last words are bait for he does not have the look of someone who is afraid but rather someone who is weary, which is rather smart of him. Whoever walks into the lions' den thinking they are safe is a fool, even as she doesn't mean him, nor his sister harm.

If anything, she means to keep them both safe, it's a pity she hadn't done their father the same courtesy, though if things are as bad as she's heard, then nothing, not even Joanna herself, might have been able to stop Lord Eddard Stark's head from rolling.

She remains positioned in front of Joffrey, watching to see his reaction to the gift she's given him. He seems to like it a lot, because he looks up with a smile. "Thank you, aunt Joanna, I shall treasure it." he tells her, to which she waves a hand. "You have nothing to thank me for, your Grace. That happy smile on your face is the only payment I need."

The exchange is brief, though heartwarming but most of all? Confusing to anyone who's witnessed just how cruel Joffrey can be.

Joanna places her hands behind her back, making her way to Cersei next. "My Queen Regent, how do you like your gift?"

"I like it well enough, sweet sister, love the fabric. Did you make it yourself?"

"I am glad." she expresses before smiling proudly. "As a matter of fact, I did. Tommen, Myrcella." she bows gallantly in front of them, the two children hastily getting up from their seats to hug her. "Auntie-!" they chorus together.

Joanna places a hand on top of their heads, closing her eyes.

"We have missed you." Tommen tells her, bright eyed and pure as fresh summer snow. Myrcella is no far behind, either, she seems to be glowing, even. "That we have, why did it take you so long to visit us again?"

Joanna chuckles. "There's duties I needed to attend to back at the Rock, children but I am here now and I plan to stay awhile." she kisses the top of their heads, before she looks up, her eyes carefully scanning Lord Lyark Stark's reaction to her gift.

It was a metal chain, the wolf sigil of his house staring back at him. There was no Lannister gold, nor red adorning it. Just black, and grey, forged of steel from the North.

Joanna had planned to give it on his wedding day, when she would have made it to King's Landing for Myrcella but the Gods had willed her to come sooner and that was that. Sansa's gift, on the other hand, resembled neither house, it was the best gift one could give a woman, in her opinion— jewelry.

It was an emerald green necklace with matching earrings, the emeralds were the sizes of real stones.

Cersei's gift was a dress, but she had left her a little surprise in one of its secret pockets, a dagger.

The boy only lightly rolls his eyes as he opens his gift, his breath hitching in his throat.

"T-Thank you, Lady Lannister." He softly stutters out, barely holding in the tears as he clips it around his neck, biting at his lip so hard that blood escapes it.

She perks up, her eyes softening a tad with an encouraging nod.

"Father, would have liked you. He too believed the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword-" He starts, Joffrey cruelly cutting him off with a laugh before making his way down to grasp the boy's necklace, pulling at it.

Lyark grips his wrist to halt his hand.

"That necklace was a farce, surely. My aunt wouldn't be supporting a traitor! Your father was a bastard barer and a rotten-"

"Keep going and I will end you myself, your Grace-"

Though Joanna would have been ready to call her father's words an exaggeration, surely Joffrey and Cersei couldn't be handling things to such a bad extent, if it weren't for Ned Stark's untimely demise, that is, seeing it all play out before her in real time makes Joanna think that perhaps Father hadn't put it harshly enough.

By the Seven, what was she supposed to do with them?

"Enough-!" she rushes between them, turning to look both at her nephew and then back at the Stark young man. "Do you really respect me so little, as to argue in front of me on the first day of my arrival? Because, if that's the case, my horse is right there–" she juts her chin in the direction of her white mare. "Your Grace, I have no desire to counsel someone who does not wish to heed my counsel and I tell you right now that t-this behavior is not befitting of a King-!"

Joanna takes their hands in hers, prying her nephew's fingers off the necklace. "Whatever crimes you accused their father of, children shouldn't have to answer for them. And, even traitors had benefitted from your father's mercy, your Grace. The late King Robert had spared Ser Barristan Selmy, Kingsguard to the Mad King when he defeated him in open combat. There's a time for violence, and a time for pardon. Please, do not forget that."

Or, in other words, her gift to the Stark boy was no farce and she had actually wished to hear what he had to say before Joffrey had interrupted him. But of course Joanna would not put it like that, lest she angers him further.

"A king does what a king wants! But fine, I will let it slide since I do want you around." Joffrey storms off, grabbing Sansa along the way albeit gentler than he's been seen to do in the past.

Despite not looking it outright, Joanna's shoulders do relax in the small time frame it would have taken her to breathe a sigh of relief. She did not want to show it, but she has come to fear her nephew. Not for herself, she's fought people before and if she were to die on the morrow, then so be it, she would have lived her life well up till now.

Joffrey's respect for her seemed to have stuck to him into his kingship, though so she's at ease for the time being— is that what Father had counted on from the start? If so, he was clever but even families could turn to blows if enough things happened to push them in that direction.

"Did I finally get to meet a sensible Lannister?" Lyark Stark scoffed, dusting himself and then roughly wiping his bloodied lip, his eyes meeting Joanna's briefly prior to Myrcella rushing his way. The girl gently grasping his chin for him to face her.

"My dear, you are bleeding-" She began before the boy put his finger on her lips, his cold demeanor gone as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

That placated Myrcella, the boy giving her a playful shove.

"Go on, I know my little princess is dying to open her gift."

She giggles, looking at Joanna.

"Take care of my beloved, he takes such sweet care of me auntie."

Joanna's expression softens as she watches the exchange between the Stark boy and her beloved niece, what a significant difference Myrcella's sweet words and pretty face made in regards to his demeanour, it was impossible not to notice. Perhaps some good would come out of their match... She nods to her, thinking she will try to protect him, that is.

In the aftermath of Joffrey leaving the Throne room, as did everyone else, her sister with Tommen and Myrcella included, Joanna frowns at the wounded lip of the lad, reaching into her breast pocket to pull out her embroided handkerchief.

"Wait, do not leave just yet–" she calls out, stepping forward and closer, her hand grasping hold of his chin in a gentle manner, to wipe the blood.

He couldn't help flinching, a childish pout appearing on his face.

"I-I could have done it myself..." He retorts in defiance, an adorable one.

She continues cleaning him though, undeterred. "For whatever is worth, I apologize on behalf of House Lannister for your father's death–" Joanna had to bite her tongue to keep from naming it what it actually was: a murder.

"There's no excuse, nor words that would be able to bring him back though but the sentiment is there–" she pauses again, placing her handkerchief into his hand, for future use in case his lip resumed bleeding at any time. "They, the crowd nor my nephew had known him personally, for them he was just another lord, one with the dozens but for you he meant everything and that feeling, of losing someone who means everything is something I can deeply relate to. You do not have to trust the rest is sincere but you can trust that I too, mourned the one who brought me into this world."

A heavy sob leaves him as he turns his back on her.

"S-Sorry m-my lady... I cannot control myself a-all of a sudden..." He cries, his legs shaking from trying to give in. "S-Such kind words... I-I can barely believe you two are related... hah..." He attempted to laugh to stop the tears.

Seeing the boy react so strongly to her words tugged at heartstrings Joanna didn't even know she had, heartstrings she thought were only reserved for her mother. Although looking at him now, the way he struggled to maintain hold of his composure, was kind of like seeing her younger self reflected into a mirror.

She had tried so hard to appear brave, to please Father, to be a rock for Cersei and Jaime even though the two were older than her, to care for Tyrion in a household where most had blamed him for their Lady's death...

"It's–" she was going to reassure him that there was no need to hide, not from her at least, when Tyrion's voice echoed and the boy took that chance to flee, to his quarters no doubt, leaving Joanna standing there, with a tear trailing down her cheek.

It hadn't even registered as she watched his retreating back, only becoming aware of it after he had disappeared from sight.

She hurriedly reaches out to wipe it, before Tyrion could see it.

"Do you have wine?" Joanna laments over her shoulder.

"Always, sister. Always. Wine and whores, if you'd like though I believe you won't," he grins as he closes the distance between them to wrap his arms around her, Joanna anticipating his hug and bending down to his level so they could be on more equal footing.

"Do you ever grow up? If Father were to hear you–"

He cuts her off, humming. "Ah, but Father isn't here though, is he? You are, and the world is a better place for it. I am glad to see you, Joanna. King's Landing was much too dull without you." he tells her, releasing the hug.

"The Rock fared no better in your absence, little brother." she gives him one last pat on the back before he distances himself, straightening herself up after. "It's good to see you too, Tyrion."

They share a beaming smile.

He offers her his arm, which she gladly takes— feeling like she needs it for support almost after whatever that earlier display was. Is this how all her days were going to unfold from now on?

"I must say, my dear, I admire how well you put our beloved nephew in his place, would you be as kind as to give out lessons to Cersei, perhaps? The boy used to be bad but he's been a nightmare ever since King Robert's death."

Joanna sighs, pinching the skin between her brows. "Well, what did you expect to happen? He's in mourning, he was thrust a crown upon not too long ago, he's–"

"Worse than you are making it sound like, sister, believe me, I do not say what I am saying lightly. That was just the tip of the ice you saw today though I pray you won't get to see the rest of it."

Tyrion's words hint at something far more dark, something sinister in nature, words which Joanna doesn't want to listen too much of.

"Let's just drink, please Tyrion."

When he throws her a look, she adds.

"Without any whores around or I will make that head of yours, and no I won't tell you which one, ring like a bell."

For a moment, they just stare at each other, Joanna seemingly serious before her lips twitch, cracking with Tyrion following suit as they both burst into laughter.

"Gods, it's good to have you back. My only blessing." he pats her hand.

Author's note:

As you all saw whilst reading this chapter, Joanna is not my only OC, Lyark Stark is as well and more of his background will be shown in due time.