calculated steps

by cersc

Summary:

Joanna and Tywin did not fall in love. But they found themselves there all the same. (GOT Secret Santa gift for Lauren!)

Notes:

• For tywinning.

It seems to Joanna that the phrase “falling in love” is an ill fit one for the phenomenon it describes when the person one loves seems so expertly crafted for the purpose of loving, so much safer and warmer and more secure than anything that could be described as with the same uncertainty and hesitance as a fall.

It is not that she believes in predestiny, because the very opposite is true. The divine ability to create one’s own fate is one of the traits that she loves so dearly, after all. Half the time — though she would never admit it aloud — she thinks perhaps they are half-god, the two of them, with sunlight in their hair and setting their eyes alight. The notion flits through her thoughts in the mornings, when she awakens lying on her back with him pressed close to her side with an arm slung ‘round her waist, both of them protectors, both of them protected; in the afternoons, when they sip wine and play a delightful sort of verbal back-and-forth regarding courtly matters and decisions that must be made; in the evenings, when she nurses the beautiful babes they created together and shares with him those smiles so famously worn for her and her alone.

And she also knows that to think of Tywin Lannister as “safe” and “secure” is another thing for her and her alone. She is not a woman blinded by a fluttering heartbeat and a giddy giggle spurred forth by her dangerous husband; she carries no false notions that he is anything less than a lion in true, with sharp teeth and a sharper mind.

That, too, is one of the traits that she loves so dearly.

Yet no matter the fervor of her love — and it is remarkably fervent — she did not fall into it. It has been there for as long she can remember. It is steady and strong as the feel of his pulse thrumming beneath his skin when she cups his jaw and neck so tenderly in her soft, slim hands to bring him into a kiss; steady and strong as the iron resolve that resides within his heart (and, perhaps, her own).

She certainly felt the pangs of young love so often immortalized in song or verse, all the sleepless nights spent tossing and turning and wondering what it might feel like were he to share her bed, strong arms holding her, lips pressed to her forehead or her neck or many places lower still. It is not that she didn’t; only that there was an undercurrent of familiarity to each of them, and to the nights those fantasies flourished into exquisite life. When they were wed at last, it felt as if they had been married in spirit if not by law from the very day they met. And when Joanna’s belly began to swell, stomach turning at the scent of foods once her favorites, fatigue crashing over her like a wave in the middle of the day when she would typically be alert and energized — well, somehow that felt familiar too, though it was incredibly and wonderfully new.

She remembers the days of her pregnancy vividly as she stands at the side of the cradle shared by Cersei and Jaime, so tiny they look like dolls, so peaceful as they drift into dreams. (She has found that the secret to quieting them at night is letting them fall asleep at each other’s side, then ever-so-gently lifting one into their own cradle once their breathing has slowed into the rhythm of rest.) The first four moons had been difficult, but before long, she had been as radiant and glowing as the golden sun in the sky, just as was promised to her by countless septas and ladies and maesters as the babes grew.

But Tywin saw it even before then, and had told her as much as often as she needed to hear it. Stroking her hair as she emptied her stomach into a chamber pot after a meal that sat poorly, he had whispered of her strength, of her beauty, of how perfect their babes would be. And he saw it after, too, when the twins roared their first cries into the world and her skin was covered in sweat and blood and grime. He kissed her full on the mouth, as passionate as any kiss they had shared before, and told her she had made him complete at last — a leader, a lord, a husband, and now a father.

He enters the nursery quietly, eyes tired after a long day, yet glimmering with life and love all the same when gaze alights upon his family. Rests a hand on the small of Joanna’s back as she hums their babes a little lullaby; presses a kiss to her forehead. Her lips curve into a small smile that grows when it is returned, until they are grinning broadly at each other, delighted simply by the other’s presence.

And Joanna thinks that Tywin would agree — he has never “fallen into” anything, each and every step he has ever taken a calculated one.

But there can be no doubt that somehow, some way, they found themselves deeply in love.