Joanna Lannister does not hate Melara Hetherspoon.
That much is true. She thinks the girl a good influence on Cersei's more problematic tendencies- She has certainly has good enough sense to distract her daughter for behaving illy. She does think her an upstart with a clawing reach beyond her, but she does not hate the girl. So many people will come to her children to use them, and so many will be worse then some clueless chit of a girl that had some use to her.
Her opinion of her is completely and utterly changed.
By the sweet seven heavens, her back.
"Melara, sweetling ," her voice is heavy with sorrow and regret, and she cannot hide her utter horror.
Sea-green eyes look at her. They shine. Horror and pleas in their beautiful depths.
"I thought if I married Jaime, no one could hurt me ever again. It was an idiotic thought, but I have no reason to believe that anyone in this Keep would protect me from my tormentors. They are well-liked, well positioned, and I am just a child from an outside Keep," she whispers, small, and delicate.
The girl was barely younger than Jaime and Cersei, and someone had seen fit to beat her to such an extent in Joanna's Keep. This was not a reprime, it was not discipline. It was savagery and control on a child. No one should have dared in Joanna's domain. This was her den, she was the Lady of the West and she would not stand for this.
"Melara," Joanna Lannister rises, fists clenched, fury righteous and full in her chest, "Who has dared hurt you?"
"My Lord Uncle and my maid, and cousin, Jeyne Hetherspoon. I befriended Cersei when my food began to taste sweet, and I began to grow tired more easily," confessed the girl, turning back to face her fully, "It stopped the sweetness in my food, especially when Cersei began to esteem me more… And I think my Uncle saw an advantage to having a girl with the ear of Cersei Lannister. And what better way to control a girl than to beat her into compliance?"
She leaves her dress unlaced, her shoulders slumping. Exhaustion lines her delicate shoulders. She is so suddenly looking so small, so wane, when all Joanna had seen before was childish schemes and brightness. Bile rises in Joanna Lannister's throat. Poison and beatings and unfamiliar people that would sooner trust her Uncle.She had been wary when the uninterested girl had so suddenly started to esteem her daughter, so accurately. Pleasing and lively enough to challenge Cersei but never attempt to usurp her- Oh, had Joanna thought her a clever little schemer who was attempting to further herself.
She had seen her jumping at Cersei's side like a clingy little yapping dog and felt her wish to shake her daughter's unseeing eyes to the truth of careful friends. Joanna had felt so much unease when Cersei had attached herself to this girl, unseeing a climber beyond her sweet words. She had only allowed it because she realized that Cersei was not tormenting her maids as badly as before with her new friend, realized that the girl had some use to Cersei if she no longer found slights where there were none... She had long intended to interfere when she had realized she had been making moon eyes at her son, at her husband's heir, but had stalled for want to find Cersei another companion that would temper her the same. Little Jeyne had been abysmal in that regard.
That it had been for Melara's own survival had never crossed Joanna's mind at all. That she had only sought escape, not furtherment, had never been a thought at all.
And Tywin always praised her for being so damn aware of things.
"I have done you ill. I have allowed you to be tormented in my home," Joanna tells her, voice thick, "Forgive me, child."
Sea-green eyes gleam. Tears slid down freckled cheeks. The girl hiccups.
"I hide it because I was unsure anyone would see more than an unruly girl being disciplined," Melara says, voice soft, "I thought marriage would protect me, I thought Cersei would be the key to that. But I instead turn to you, Lady Joanna, for your protection, and for justice against my tormentors. I believe they will kill me if not. I want nothing else. Not Jaime. Not Cersei's affection nor attention. I just want to be safe, My Lady, and I beg you to forgive me for attempting to use your children for my safety."
Joanna suddenly realized that Melara Hetherspoon was much more intelligent than she ever thought, savvy, and resourceful. She had been in Ser Hetherspoon's keeping less than a full year, and yet she had managed to ingratiate herself into the Court of Casterly Rock in that short time span as she had been poisoned than abused in it. She had sought protection in Cersei's shadow and had sought escape in Jaime's hand. The game must've changed- perhaps she suspected a more deadly plot against her, or perhaps her tormentor's actions were starting to re-escalate- either way she came to beg at Joanna's feet for safety. And Joanna had missed so much of this girl, and it seemed that she had gained something much more than a sycophant wishing to cling to her skirts to attempt to spirit off with her precious son. What else did Melara Hetherspoon see that Joanna had missed, she who had managed to slip into her daughter's capricious heart with just sweet words? She who had hidden her keenness beneath childish schemes, kept under lock and key as she gauged the people around her?
A smile, despite herself, curled at her lips. She had had a player in her midst, at her daughter's heels, without even realizing it. Despite her tragedy and her suffering, Melara was a gem. A fitting child to grow at her behest if she saw so much now when she was young and afraid.
She smiles with her teeth, with the fury of a lioness at finding an injured cub in her den.
"I will give you justice ."
A smile curved on the girl's face. Joanna realized she had never seen it, never seen this real sweetness on this girl's face at all.
And Melara Hetherspoon's smile was glory itself, delicate and lovely as the dawn. And terribly small.
Joanna swore to herself she would see it often, and wider.