Joanna:

A king does not marry his heir to his servant's daughter.

Those were the words Aerys had used to decline her husband's proposed betrothal between the Crown Prince Rhaegar, and their daughter Cersei.

Joanna Lannister wouldn't forget the glee swimming in the king's eyes at having this power over Tywin. At being able to refuse him, to humiliate him within his own castle with his bannermen and family in attendance. The audacity from Aerys was surprising even to her. She knew him to be resentful and sullen of Tywin and his accomplishments, but she didn't think him capable of such a deliberate slight against the man who had faithfully served as his Hand for nearly fifteen years.

Those turned out to be the king's parting words to Tywin as the feast that had been planned to be thrown to celebrate the end of the tournament was canceled, and the royal party swiftly departed the Rock to make the trip back to King's Landing. That had been more than an hour ago.

Tywin had then decided to gather his brothers in his solar to inform them of what had happened and to plan their response.

"It's an outrage!" Tygett emphasized his frustration by slamming the table with his clenched fist. "An insult to our family."

"He was correct, Tygett," Gerion replied, smirking as he spoke, "We are all but humble servants to the Crown."

Tygett glowered towards his younger brother. "We are House Lannister," he thumped his chest, where a gold roaring lion was emblazoned on his crimson doublet, "We are no ordinary house."

Her husband had yet to speak since he had given them the news. He was still and quiet, like a sitting statue. This was his way. To listen to others, to hear their arguments, their reasons, to quietly and quickly sift through their ideas, examine the merit of them to to project the success of them, all without saying a word.

Through his silence, Joanna wasn't fooled by her husband's stoicism. His face looked carved from stone, refusing to show any impact that the king's refusal had had on him, but Joanna could see it. She knew her husband well enough to read the signs that were there. The way his lips pressed together, the tightening of his jaw, the hue in his green eyes, how he steepled his fingers atop the table.

All of which were subtle, but telling hints of her husband's surprise, displeasure, and even a smidge of personal shame at how Aerys had spoken so cruelly about their family. The latter feeling, she knew he'd deny with all the intensity and ferociousness of a lion.

Nothing meant more to her Tywin then their family and their legacy, and Aerys had spat on the name of Lannister with his cruel rejection. He was particularly prickly when it came to the family name being insulted. After all, he had witnessed it at its worse during the reign of his father, and she knew he had vowed to make sure House Lannister would never reach such depths of mockery ever again.

A vow that had Tywin drag their name back to glory through blood and grief, and over the bodies of Tarbecks and Reynes to reassert it where it belonged within the Seven Kingdoms. Only for his arduous work to be mocked by the very king, he served, and once called friend.

A cruel jape, Joanna thought, and one her husband didn't deserve.

It was not just Tywin's reaction that occupied her mind but that of her daughter. Joanna knew how much Cersei wanted to be Queen. Due to a promise that he made her when she was younger, that she'd marry the Crown Prince and be the next Queen. Telling her that she deserved nothing less than a crown atop her head.

Words, she wished her husband had consulted with her before filling her head with such dangerous promises. It was no longer harmless. Now, it was up to Joanna to try to deal with the fallout of the king's decision not just with Tywin, but with Cersei.

One matter at a time, she reminded herself.

"You should resign, Tywin," Tygett implored his brother, "let the king find a new servant." He spat the last word out.

"Don't be hasty, Tygett," Kevan cautioned his younger brother, "Aerys would not take kindly to Tywin resigning," he spared his older brother a look, "or even accept it."

Tygett glowered at Kevan's approach, "You'd have us do nothing?" He crossed his muscular arms over his thick chest.

"I didn't say that," Kevan replied patiently.

"He'd have us pretend nothing happened," Gerion pointed out wryly.

Kevan frowned. "Not pretend or forget what the king said to Tywin or our family."

Sensing more unproductive squabbling ahead, Joanna decided to put her voice forward for the first time, "Aery is fickle and foolish." She didn't mince words when it came to the man who insulted her family, king or not. "He is short-sighted," she turned to her husband to see she had his undivided attention, "We need to think bigger, darling."

"What do you mean, Joanna?" That was Kevan, but she knew her cousin and her husband well enough to know that in meetings like these Kevan often voiced what Tywin was thinking or what he wanted to be said aloud. Her husband may be quiet, but that didn't mean he didn't get his point across.

"Aerys made the first move," Joanna explained, "a blunder out of pride and animosity directed at Tywin." She wasn't one to curb her tongue. "It is our move. He declined us. So, we take away one of his choices."

"Choices?" Tygett was scratching the blond stubble that covered his chin.

"I think our sweet Joanna is referring to a bride," Gerion winked at her, "or to be more specific one of the brides that our king would consider for his precious prince."

"I knew that," growled Tygett, glaring at the youngest brother of Tytos Lannister, who took the glare with a grin, before raising his glass in toast to him and drinking.

"For Jaime," Tywin's voice was soft, but it drew everyone's notice, as all heads turned to him, as the Lord of Casterly Rock made his voice heard for the first time.

"Yes," she smiled towards her husband, pleased, but not surprised that he was following her logic. "We remove one of his choices to better present Cersei in a future proposal."

"But who?" Kevan asked.

Joanna already had an answer to that, "Princess Elia Martell."

"The Dornish princess?" Tygett scrunched his nose, not hiding his distaste for the Dornish. A common reaction throughout much of Westeros since the Dornish were little loved or regarded outside their lands.

"A princess for Jaime?" Gerion chuckled, "it'll be like one of the stories I told him when he was younger." Leaning back in his seat, green eyes glimmering in amusement.

"The Martells are a respectable and powerful house," Kevan said in a rare moment that showed more his perspective then Tywin's.

However, it wasn't their opinions or reactions she wanted, it was her husband's. Her eyes were on him as she gave her answer. Alert and ready to decipher any flicker of movement that came across his face or reflection in his eyes that could help provide her with what her husband thought of the match.

"Explain," Tywin's one word command, came as relief and encouragement to her because it meant he was considering it.

A command she didn't flinch at since these were points she had been considering for years. A match on her mind since Jaime and Cersei were newborn babes. They started off as conversations between her and her dear friend, the ruling Princess of Dorne, Mariah Martell, Elia's mother. And have continued with Mariah's son, and Prince of Sunspear, Doran.

"Aerys is a proud man," she began, "He thinks highly of his family and will not let just any house marry into the Targaryens."

"You'd think he'd consider a Martell over us?" Tygett scoffed.

"I do," Joanna took her cousin's dismissal in stride. She didn't fault him his viewpoint. Tygett was a soldier, not a scholar. He wasn't one to understand politics and scheming, but fighting and swordplay.

"House Martell has Targaryen blood in their veins. Aerys married his sister, and will look to try to keep the blood pure." She turned to Tywin to dispute this claim. He didn't.

"What does House Lannister get out of this?" Kevan asked, "It seems our motives are simply to steal a rival of Cersei away from Rhaegar." He sent her an inquisitive look. "How does this make us stronger?"

Joanna resisted the urge to smile at her cousin's question, knowing it wasn't his, but Tywin's. She looked towards her husband to see him meet her stare with an impassive look, green eyes flecked with gold, but that didn't bother her. She sent him a small smile and a wink and saw his lips twitch in response before she turned back to Kevan to answer his question.

"Lord Tyrell is an ambitious man, and the Reach is one of the strongest kingdoms," Joanna observed, "An alliance with Dorne, a longtime rival of House Tyrell would do well to keep them in check, to curb their influence and to give them pause. A pact between the Westerlands and Dorne would leave the Reach suddenly exposed, and vulnerable on their northern and southern borders."

She by no means possessed a military mind or an eye for strategy, but she knew her observations made sense to the others. Joanna could see how they considered her point. Tygett, the martial knight nodded to her thinking as if seeing the wisdom in being able to check such a powerful region as the Reach before it could become a threat to them. Kevan looked pensive as if he was imagining the maps in his mind, picturing her words, and the movements of it all.

"I don't know what Lord Tyrell covets more, power or food," Gerion snickered.

"Even he would recognize this alliance as something that would have to make him consider his moves carefully," Tygett finished.

"Exactly," Joanna was pleased that it seemed to win some of them over. She looked over to her quiet husband, she was certain her points were ones that he had already considered when she broached the alliance. After all, her husband dealt with politics and strategy all the time, and his mind would naturally go to such matters when presented with alliances. Weighing the worth of them before deciding it was something to consider or pass on.

"The Reach's influence in the capital grows," Tywin observed. "Their ambitions cannot be easily sated," he clicked his tongue, "a line descended from stewards, who believe themselves worthy of gold and glory beyond their blood." He drummed his fingers across the table.

"They can field the largest force," Tygett pointed out, with a sour look like it pained him to admit their superior forces.

"Don't forget the Redwyne Fleet," Gerion added, looking at his wineglass, "or their wine." He took a sip from his glass, "Very good wine," he smacked his lips together. Looking more amused than concerned about this conversation.

Tywin sent his brother an annoyed look which Gerion seemed to detect and then defect with an easy smile before pouring more wine for himself.

He japes, because he can't take being in his brother's shadow, Joanna thought, watching the interactions between the brothers. Kevan accepted his role and stayed content in his brother's shadow. Tygett resented it, trying to prove his worth through his skill at arms, a task he's accomplished, as he's considered a fierce warrior. Gerion tried to ignore it, to be indifferent, he chose japes and smirks to try to show he didn't care.

"The Tyrells will try to angle one of their kin to entice the king to accept as a bride for his son," Kevan observed.

"Aerys will not consider the Tyrells," Joanna reminded them.

"Agreed," Tywin said softly, "and neither will we."

Joanna knew her husband had little love for House Tyrell. The Wardens of the Reach were descended from stewards, raised beyond their station and made lords of Highgarden by Aegon the Conqueror. A slight that still has many of their bannermen seething with resentment.

However, their growing wealth and power couldn't be ignored, and she knew it was something Tywin had noticed too. Recognizing them as a potential threat to House Lannisters' position within the Seven Kingdoms. A position that Tywin had cemented on the bones of Houses Reyne and Tarbeck.

The Tyrells would not be considered because of their history. So, why not with their rival, House Martell? Who boasted of a rich and proud bloodline with a storied history which included strong blood ties to House Targaryen. After all, alliances weren't just about strengthening ties, but weakening potential rivals.

"What of our daughter?" Tywin asked, after seconds of silence while he considered the offer.

"We bring the match to Aerys again," Joanna answered, "Since he'll soon learn he can find no better match then Cersei and our house."

"What if he offers Rhaegar to the Princess?" Kevan put out there.

"Dorne will not break the betrothal to our family," Joanna said without hesitation, aware of the odd looks she was getting from her husband's siblings, who probably considered her daft with her declaration, but she knew better. Joanna knew how much this pact would mean to the late princess of Dorne, the mother of Doran and Elia.

Over the last couple of days, Joanna watched how well Jaime and Elia got along. If the Dornish Princess was in favor of the match, which Joanna believed she was, then she knew Prince Doran would be hesitant to break it out of the love he bore his sister. Despite the tempting offer the crown could make, Aerys wasn't without detractors, and more than a few nobles were wary of his erratic behavior.

"You sound confident."

"I am," Joanna saw her husband raise his right eyebrow at her, understanding the expression and knowing she'd explain it to him when they were alone.

"And if he refuses our match again?" Gerion asked, "I mean our king isn't always one to let wisdom rule when he prefers spite."

"The King has another son."

"Prince Daeron?" Kevan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Is he any better than a hedge knight?" It was Kevan's voice, but Tywin's words. "He does not even have Summerhall like previous spare Targaryen princes."

"That could change," Joanna kept her answer and her tone vague enough to get her husband's interest. She succeeded seeing as it perked his curiosity by the look he was giving her.

"Leave us," Tywin ordered calmly, eyes not leaving her face.

Kevan stood up quietly and obediently, Tygett grumbled but got to his feet, and Gerion shrugged as if he didn't want to be there anyhow, grabbing his wineglass as he left.

"You have something in mind," a hint of amusement in his voice, the gold flecks in his green eyes seem to shimmer. Only speaking once the door closed behind his brothers.

"I do," she answered with a smile.

He raised his hands, gesturing he was listening to what she had in mind.

"The Prince has no lands, but that could be changed," she said, "We could change it," she saw a flicker of understanding come to her husband's face, but he kept silent, "Castamere."

"Castamere?" Tywin's voice was soft and harsh.

"Yes," Joanna persevered through her husband's bitter memories. "A Targaryen bannermen to Casterly Rock," she knew the idea sat well with Tywin with how his eyes took to it, "His children with Cersei would be the best candidates for Rhaegar's children when it would come to future marriages. Lannister blood would still sit atop the Iron Thone."

"Cersei deserves to be Queen."

"She may not get it, Tywin," Joanna told him softly, and she could tell that bit of truth had been realized by him too, and he hadn't liked it.

"We will consider it," he finally said, "But Rhaegar is our first choice."

"Agreed," she was pleased to do it. "And what of the betrothal between Jaime and Princess Elia?"

The corner of his lips tugged upwards slowly, "I can tell this has your full support."

"It does." She had no reason to lie. "I think it a good match."

"Your reasoning was sound," Tywin nodded, but he didn't elaborate on which way he was leaning.

"If that's not enough, Tywin, then do it for our son's happiness."

To others such a plea to Tywin Lannister would have them scoff and question her intelligence, but they didn't know her husband, like she did. After all it was the happiness and love they felt for another that inspired their marriage, not family obligation. A truth, she was thankful for, and one she felt she needed to remind her husband on occasion especially when he got too consumed by family and legacy.

"Jaime would be happy and thankful," she continued, "It's a better political marriage then ours." She raised an eyebrow at him as if waiting for him to try to challenge the truth in her statement.

"Would it be such a sacrifice for our family, for our legacy, to see our son happy on his wedding day, to love the woman he's going to marry?"

Tywin took her words in silence, eyes searching her face, lips forming a thin line, a look of reflection covering his expression. After a few heartbeats of quiet contemplation, he spoke, "I'll prepare a message for Prince Doran."

 

 

Cersei:

I'll never leave these chambers.

That had been Cersei's vow since she had been told that her betrothal between herself and her prince, Rhaegar had been denied.

If I cannot be a Queen then I'll be no man's wife.

A storm fueled by her anger had gone through her chambers, nothing had escaped her wrath. She howled when she ripped and tossed her clothes. Glasses, figurines, had been thrown and broken which lay scattered across the floor. The curtains of her bed, hung limply, torn looking as if attacked by a savage beast.

Let the Rock tremble in my rage!

Looking at the damage she had done to her room, she couldn't help but feel pleased. A small consolation to the injustice done to her, but she couldn't deny the pride at seeing her wroth unleashed. It spoke to her power, and what a terrible thing her anger could be.

To her shame, it wasn't anger she had first felt at learning about the dismissed betrothal, but grief.

Cersei scrubbed at her tear stained cheeks, not wanting any lingering evidence of the weakness she felt when her betrothal to Rhaegar had been denied. She moved to the broken mirror on her vanity, a portion of the glass had shattered and pooled around the furniture to resemble a crystal puddle. The bottom portion of it remained so that she could inspect her appearance, however, she had to crouch to use it.

Red rimmed, puffy eyed, tear streak cheeks looked back at her.

This isn't me, she backed away from the reflection in disgust. I am a lioness not a scared little girl. She curled her lip in defiance towards the reflection of the weak, shameful thing that was staring back at her before turning away all together.

Lions don't cry, the cold, sharp voice of her father came to mind. A chilling reprimand that made her wince as if fearing he'd come to her chambers and see her in this state of disgrace.

Father also said I'd be Queen, she was reminded, but it might as well have been mocking her.

Cersei recalled how father had smiled the first time he had told her, she was seven or eight, he took her hand into his, and told her, One day, you will be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, he then squeezed her hand.

That was when he had smiled. She'd never forget it, the slow twitch of the lips before they curved up. The gold flecks in his eyes seemed to gleam, as he held her hand in his. She had returned that smile, grinning in confidence, soaking in her father's affection, savoring it as he gave it to her and her alone.

It was hers, and nothing or no one could take that from her.

From there on, it had been his promise, their secret .

Now, it is nothing but a memory to ridicule her.

She clenched her fists. You promised me the Crown Prince! Cersei had wanted to scream at her father. I was to be Queen! Wanting to lash out at him after so many years of telling her and promising her that his plan would work, she'd marry Rhaegar, and be his Queen.

But where was he?

Father hadn't even come to tell her himself that the betrothal had been declined. That duty had fallen on Aunt Genna. Father had locked himself in his solar with her uncles and mother.

You've failed him, a cold voice whispered, chilling the simmering anger that had roused up in her chest. Why would he see you? Why would he want to? The cold voice pressed on with its questions.

I didn't fail! She wanted to shout back, I didn't have a chance. Cersei found her back hitting the wall. Shivering, she slid to the ground, hugging her legs, and biting her lip, her eyes watering.

"Cersei?"

She only had enough time to blink away her tears before she heard the door open, looking up through a curtain of golden curls to see her brother walking towards her.

"Cersei?" He said again, voice low and filled with concern.

"Jaime," she whispered, a haze of sadness swirling in her mind.

"I'm here," he crouched in front of her before enveloping her in an embrace.

She had forgotten how warm he was, how well she fit in his arms, breathing in his scent, as she put her arms around him, feeling his breath upon her throat was enough to elicit a shiver of pleasure to go down her spine.

One person, two hearts.

"Jaime," she felt as if she could get lost in this moment, in his embrace. I still have Jaime .

That was when he pulled away.

"What is it?" she mumbled, she didn't understand why he let go. She wrapped her arms around herself to shield the sudden cold that came upon her.

"It's nothing," he stood abruptly, a flicker of conflict dancing across his handsome face, before he shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever trance he seemed to be. "I-I just haven't hugged you since…"

"Ah," Cersei didn't need him to trail off awkwardly to understand what it was he was referring to.

"I heard about what happened," he scuffed his boot against the floor, "I'm sorry," he offered her his hand.

Cersei didn't take it. I'm not the weak damsel, brother. She gathered up her dress and got to her feet, ignoring his hand.

He pities me, she realized, and that disgusted her. I'm as strong and brave as you. She wanted to snap, but she restrained herself, seeing him before her, it wasn't comfort she felt coursing through her, but anger.

"I would've come sooner, but I was with Elia."

The informal way he spoke her name on his tongue was a bitter thing for Cersei to hear. "Elia," Cersei repeated the name mockingly, pleased to see him frowning at her. That's right, brother, I can fight too.

"Yes," he said nothing else.

"And she's more important than me?" Cersei snapped, "Your sister?"

Jaime didn't shrink or step back in the face of her wrath, nor did he cow to her like she was used to, "Elia is to be my wife," Jaime didn't bother to hide his smile or the way his eyes seemed to light up at his declaration.

"WHAT?"

Jaime smirked at her anger. "It is not official yet, Father only just sent a raven to Sunspear," he explained, "But Father spoke to me about it, and Mother talked to Elia," that smirk melting into a smile.

That smile which he used to give her, only for her, and now Cersei had to watch as it was intended for his precious, plain Dornish princess. How could he be happy when she was so miserable? They were supposed to be two hearts, one body…

"Prince Doran will meet father's terms," Jaime went on, oblivious to Cersei's righteous anger, "Elia was confident of it," he chuckled.

"Is that why you're here?" Cersei growled, "Come to gloat?" she relished the look of confusion that flashed across his face. He really was a fool, she thought, Elia can have him. I was a fool to think he could replace Rhaegar.

"No," he recovered, "I've come to say goodbye, Cersei." He stood up straighter, "Prince Daeron invited me to court, and father approved. I'm leaving with him tomorrow."

"GET OUT!" Cersei screamed, looking around at something to throw at her stupid brother. Her eyes landed on a vase, scooping it up, she hurled it at Jaime, who ducked as it careened over him before smashing into the floor. "Get out!"

"Now there's the mad dragon, Aerys would've wanted as his good daughter," Jaime japed, unbothered by her rage.

"Out!" Cersei howled. His indifference to her anger only fueled it, like kindling to a burning fire.

"I'll miss you too, sweet sister," he glided out of her room, before she could find another object to throw.

He got his princess, but she was denied her prince? She glared at the door he left from, her heart thundering like a war drum.

Where was the justice in that? Where was the wisdom?

Now her brother was leaving to go to the capital while she was stuck in the Rock?

I should be going to King's Landing.

That was where her prince was. Cersei knew that if she had time with Rhaegar, she could make him want her, love her. To convince his father of the merits of a match between them.

A sudden knock to her door pierced her thoughts on her future in the capital with Rhaegar.

"Cersei?"

"Tyrion?" She was surprised to hear her brother's voice on the other side of the closed door, since it was past his bedtime.

The door opened slowly, Tyrion's misshapen head poked through, "Cersei," his voice soft, and sleepy. He slid into her room, garbed in his red and gold sleeping attire.

"Tyrion, why are you not in bed?"

"I couldn't sleep," He didn't meet her gaze, eyes transfixed on the floor, "I-I heard about what happened," he said timidly, "I wanted to make sure you were alright." He looked up at the last part, mismatch eyes shimmering with sincerity.

"Oh Tyrion," her voice cracked at the love and concern her brother had for her. Unlike Jaime, she thought bitterly, her twin was happy to leave her for the capital with his princess.

She pushed those infuriating thoughts aside so that she could focus on her tenderhearted brother. Cersei cut the distance between them to wrap her youngest brother into her arms. Who would've thought that it was by holding Tyrion in her arms did she find some peace, feeling the weariness and frustration melt away.

"You spoil me," She kissed the top of his head.

He giggled, "I'm your, brother," he reminded her, "It's my duty."

Cersei laughed, "Is that so?"

He bobbed his head up and down.

"And it's my duty to see you back to your chambers," Cersei ignored how he pouted at that, "Before mother or father find out you've been sneaking around."

He ducked his head, fearful at getting caught especially by father. "It was only just this once."

"I know," she soothed the concern with a brief hug. "They'll hear none of this from me."

"Thanks!" He grinned.

She wondered if Jaime had been brave enough to tell Tyrion that he was abandoning them to go off to the capital. Cersei squashed the idea of asking her baby brother about it, not wanting to ruin the mood by bringing up Jaime.

"Come," she lifted him off the ground. "It's time for bed," She stood up, carrying him. "And this time you need to stay in bed."

He yawned, "I will."

"I know you will."

They were nearly to her door when he spoke again. "You'd be a great Queen."

Cersei felt tears swell in her eyes at her brother's encouraging words.

"Someday," she said softly, unsure if Tyrion had heard her or not. She left her chambers with him in her arms, "Someday."