Arriving at Casterly Rock

The Rock was as large and intimidating as any fortress Jon had seen, helped by the fact that it was essentially a keep carved into a mountain, guarded by layer after layer of solid rock and mortar. The procession he travelled with moved slowly through its mighty gates and down into the enterance tunnel that had seemingly been burrowed into the mountain. Gold ornaments hung on just about every surface, proclaiming the Lannisters wealth and power for all to see.

Several servants and lesser members of the Lannister household were ready to greet the Targaryen procession and lead them through the labyrinthine tunnels into the Great Hall were Tywin Lannister held court. Though Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Gerold Hightower whistled and remarked on all the gaudy sights, Jon kept himself silent as he took everything in. He knew well enough that such a display was meant to provoke wonder and awe, and perhaps even anxiety from those who entered the Lannister home and did not want to show any weakness.

The Great Hall itself was remarkable in its beauty and grandeur, but it was the Lannisters themselves that proved to be the most interesting sight. The whole family was on display; Lord Tywin himself sat on his gilded throne atop the dais, his hard emerald eyes watching everything with a kind of stoic calculation. Ser Jamie, who had been released from his vows in the Kingsguard by Jon’s father as a peace offering to Tywin at the end of the Rebellion, stood lazily with one hand casually resting on the pommel of his sword. While he did not seem interested in Jon, he flashed a smile when he saw his old campions from his white cloak days. Tyrion the Imp hung about as well, looking as wretched and deranged as the stories said, his mismatched eyes leering from his position, wine cup in hand.

Lady Cersei drew all eyes, however. Adorned in a crimson and gold dress that hugged her body tightly, the woman was strikingly beautiful. Her golden hair billowed down in a series of curls that danced with every moment she made, her face was regal and yet sultry with well defined cheekbones, plump lips that looked ripe for kissing and two emerald eyes that seemed to burn as bright as wildfire. She was older, yet age seemed to have given up its battle and left her as a woman who still seemed largely in her prime. Like the lion that was adorned on her dress, she watched Jon’s process like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

Jon’s attention snapped away from the woman and to her three children. The oldest, Joffrey was a little younger than Jon, though held himself as if he was the royal and Jon was the lesser. He shared an appearance with his mother and her twin, with long curly gold hair hanging just above his shoulders and bright green eyes. His features were similar to his kin, with a the same cheeks and plump lips, but they were almost constantly twisted into a sneering expression that cast his whole face in a worse light. The youngest, Tommen, was a plump little thing who seemed younger than his years, watching the Targaryen procession with a mixture of fear and awe.

His eyes fell on his betrothed, the Lady Myrcella. She was a near identical copy of her mother, and had even been dressed to match her sole surviving parent. Yet where there was a fierceness and an aggressive regality to Cersei, Myrcella seemed softer and more docile. Her green eyes shone with a hint of compassion and wonder, and it was easy to see that young she was of age, there was still much of the girl she had once been. Right away Jon knew that she would make an acceptable wife, and hoped that one day if things went well there might be love to be found.

“Prince Jon,” Lord Tywin’s voice was cold and sobering as a winter’s breeze. “It is an honour to have you in my home.”

Jon bowed his head. “The honour is mine Lord Tywin,” he gestured about, “your home is impressive, even more so than the tales suggest.”

Tywin nodded faintly at the praise, but did not dwell on it. “The King has apprised me of his attentions, and I am in agreement with him for the most part. With the connection our two Great Houses have shared, it is long past time that we finally join as one.” His cold eyes narrowed slightly, “however, I would prefer that I spend at least some time getting the measure of the man who would wed my only granddaughter.”

Without a word, Lady Myrcella stepped forward and curtsied, looking almost shy as she glanced at Jon. He smiled reassuringly back at her and took a measured step. “My Lord, I would be honoured to stay here for a time and get to know my future betrothed.”

“Good,” Tywin gave him a shrewd expression. “Then I will have my servants show you to your chambers so that you might rest from your long journey, and prepare yourself for tonight’s feast.”

Jon bowed his head once more, and followed the servants down through the winding tunnels of Casterly Rock.