My pride and my grief: For my sister...A Jaime Lannister Story

Ch-18:- Joy, and dread

Joanna sighed. Feasts were exhaustive and this one was worse than usual. She had lost count of hostile exchanges between the Lords. High Lords they were, yet they squabbled like children over a piece of fruit; in this case, the Realm. The Queen, sitting next to her, shot her a look of sympathy. Cynthia and Rhaegar, she saw, were coming near them, and a Lady was accompanying them. Joanna rose. 'Cynthia, come sit with me. Take care of the twins.' She obeyed instantly, smiling happily.

Joanna turned to the Lady, doubtless one of the visiting ones. 'My Lady. How can I be of service?' she asked. 'Lady Joanna,' the other woman hesitated, clearly troubled. 'Rickard-' she stopped. Joanna was puzzled. Cynthia's voice caught her attention. 'Mother,' she stated, oddly mature, 'This is Lady Lyarra Stark. She wanted to meet you.' Not for the first time, Joanna was grateful for her little tempest's bubbly, curious nature.

Her attention went to Lady Stark, who nodded at Cynthia's statement. 'I merely wanted to apologize for the strife between our houses, My Lady, and congratulate you on the birth of your children.' The Lady explained. Joanna nodded. 'Thank you, Lady Lyarra. A pleasure to meet you.' She acknowledged. Inwardly, she thought, Pleasure, indeed. This woman and her family had a long standing war with House Lannister. It is my responsibility to heal the rift, Joanna resolved. Allies were necessary, at this juncture more than any other.

Watching Joanna socialize with the Starks, Tywin felt a stab of concern for her. The chilly Lords from the cold North unsettled him. They seemed like fish out of water here in the South. Tywin knew of their standoffish, over-honorable behavior. Lords Paramount though they were, they had little to no connection in the affairs of the Iron Throne.

Rickard Stark made no secret of his distaste for Tywin, and watching his wife interact with Lord Stark's lady made him want to intercede. With great effort, he restrained, going inside his mind. He had other worries. The King's paranoia was growing exponentially, getting ever more difficult to restrain...

Behind the scenes, in Dorne;

As soon as Lewyn had briefed the Dornish Lords about the situation in the Seven Kingdoms, a buzz of voices broke out. Lewyn stood. 'My Lords!' he shouted, banging his fist on the table. Every head turned towards him, and he felt uneasy, for it was Arielle who should have been here, for this was her responsibility, as Princess of Dorne.

Well, he thought, Arielle wasn't here, and he would have to do. So, he plunged on. 'The question of the hour is extremely important.' 'What is it?' enquired Alnair. You already know what it is, Lewyn thought. He knew the Alnair was just prompting him, easing him into the role that had been thrust onto him. With trepidation, Lewyn asked 'Should Dorne secede? Will it be right for us?' He felt that it was his duty to caution them of the risk they would take, should Dorne secede.

'The Targaryens are kin to us Martells, and we to the rest of Dorne. If we-' Lord Yronwood cut him off. 'Kin?' he asked. 'Maesters can have their history. What matters is the present.' He boomed. 'I care for history no more than you, My Lord,' Lewyn rejoined. 'The Targaryens are dragonkings no more.' Put in Lord Blackmont. 'I am well aware of that, My Lord,' interjected Alnair, ever the voice of reason.

Hoary old Lord Dalt had heard enough. 'Even dragons could not subdue Dorne.' He spat. 'Green boys care not for Dornish honor.' 'Well, this green boy cares about the people of Dorne, My Lord. Like it or not, it is not safe to secede from the Kingdoms with the Princess in the Westerlands, within reach of the King.' Cut in Alnair, livid.

Arthur looked at his brother admiringly. He had always admired Alnair's strength, his conviction. He turned his attention back to the meeting. Prince Lewyn was on his feet. 'Perhaps it is wise to wait till the Princess returns.' He suggested gently. Such was the respect for Princess Arielle that all the Lords agreed that the decision can be taken later, with her present. 'Of course,' invited Prince Lewyn, 'You are welcome to stay here as our honored guests, My Lords and Ladies.'

In the general hustle and bustle of departing nobility, Prince Lewyn turned to Arthur. 'Well', the Prince remarked, 'That went better than expected.' Arthur blanched, aghast. 'Better, Ser? That nearly came to bloodshed.' Lewyn smiled at the boy's innocence. 'Nearly, lad. That's why it went better than expected. No bloodshed.' Lewyn left the boy there. 'What might Arielle think? He mused.

Arielle Martell, meanwhile, was finally exiting the Great Hall of Casterly Rock after enduring the infernal feast. Cynthia, Elia, Oberyn and Rhaegar Targaryen were running around blissfully, happy and carefree. Arielle envied their artless joy. She was weighed down by her duties, Joanna filled her days with her children. Arielle grinned. Joanna did seem quite happy. The Queen, though, was another story. Arielle made up her mind to pay a call to Jo in the nursery, and Queen Rhaella, too. This is a good time to solidify friendships as any, she decided.

Cynthia and Oberyn were enthusiastically whacking straw dummies, while Rhaegar tried his inexperienced but earnest best at it. His father's voice rang in his head, commanding him to be The Prince Who Was Promised. Rhaegar hoped that, if he tried, Father could become himself again. So, he tried to match their gusto and came up short.

Finally, they stopped, tired and sweaty, when Cynthia came up to him. 'Would you like to spar with me tomorrow?' she asked excitedly. 'I could teach you, if you'd like.' Rhaegar nodded eagerly. She laughed. 'I'll learn, too.' She asserted, eyes sparkling mischievously. So will I, resolved Rhaegar. Father will be happy again, he promised himself.

Joanna reclined in an armchair, eyes closed, Arielle saw as soon as she entered. She looked tranquil for a change, Arielle noted. Her baby girl was asleep, the boy trying hard to put her lion pendant in his mouth. 'Well,' remarked Arielle, 'Here's someone who does not like his heritage, I would say.' Joanna started, getting to her feet with an automatic nod and a smile. Arielle edged closer to the boy.

'You're a playful one, aren't you?' she teased. The child gurgled happily and reached for her necklace. Arielle tugged it out of his reach. 'Oh no, I'm a happy Martell, thanks.' Joanna laughed, then sobered up. 'I had been meaning to see the Queen. She was not looking well at the feast.' She confided. Arielle agreed with her and so they left Joanna's chambers together.

Queen Rhaella's chambers were guarded by Ser Barristan Selmy, who barred their entry. 'The Queen is indisposed.' He stated curtly. 'No, Ser Barristan,' denied the Queen. 'I am fine. I was just nauseous at the feast. Who is without, Ser?' Rhaella's gentle voice enquired. 'The Princess Arielle, and Lady Joanna Lannister, Your Grace.' The knight announced. 'Send them in, Ser.' The Queen commanded.

Joanna and Arielle entered the chambers softly. 'Is Your Grace alright?' Joanna asked. Rhaella was a little touched by her concern. 'I am fine, Joanna. Just exhausted, I suppose.' She declared. Joanna was quite familiar with Rhaella and asked, 'Is there anything I can do to help? Is it-' she cut herself off, looking hesitant.

Then, gathering her courage, she continued 'Is it moon's blood, Your Grace? Forgive me for asking, but-' 'It's alright, Joanna. It is not moon's blood, I assure you of that.' Instinctively, Rhaella counted the days since her last moon's blood. Two moons. Gods, two moons! Weakly, she excused herself of the ladies' company, joy and dread twining together in her heart. She was with child, and she promised to protect this one...