NOVEL NEXT Chapter 3: Chapter-3
Joanna Stark (née Lannister)'s POV
[January 24th, 1945]
[The Rusty Manor]
AN: Winterfell (the main castle) and the Rusty Manor are two different locations. The Rusty Manor serves as a middle ground for hosting parties and balls, while Winterfell is accessible only to a few close associates and members of House Stark.
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These past few years have been an incredible blessing. A loving husband, a mischievous and adorable child, and another one on the way—what more could I ask for?
Growing up, life was a struggle, marred by my father's neglect and the loss of my mother. Before her death, we were a close-knit family. My mother was the heart of our lives, and her passing was a blow I could hardly bear. My father, even more so, was never the same after she was gone.
My father, "The Great Trion Lannister," head of House Lannister and its vast fortunes, was a man of unparalleled intellect. As the only son, he faced no competition for power, and he assumed control of our house's affairs at a young age, elevating it to unprecedented heights.
But after my mother's death, he became a shadow of the man he once was. The sharp mind that once ruled our house was dulled by grief and alcohol. He turned to drink, lashing out at everything and everyone, including me, simply because I reminded him too much of her.
It broke my heart. I was just a nine-year-old girl. In the months after her death, my father drowned himself in wine. We barely spoke, and I rarely saw him. When I did, he was often drunk. I was on the verge of breaking.
Everything changed when my grandfather returned. He took control of the house and business, leaving my father to his own devices. He took me in and raised me, giving me the care and attention I so desperately needed.
A few months later, news of my father's death reached us. I wasn't deeply saddened—not because I hated him, but because the man I once knew had died with my mother. The person who remained was just a shell, lost to his grief.
Like many noble families, I was homeschooled. I developed a keen interest in our house's affairs and business. Grandfather was pleased and taught me everything he knew, never placing restrictions on my learning. He even planned for my future husband to marry into our house, allowing me to continue the Lannister name, headship, and business.
Everything was going well until my seventeenth birthday, when an old marriage contract resurfaced. The Starks and Lannisters, though often at odds, respected each other. They saw each other as their only equals.
One fateful night, after a particularly heated encounter, a Stark and a Lannister, drunk and weary, made a contract. It stated that if either family failed to produce a male heir, the other family's heir would marry the female heir, thereby inheriting the name, businesses, and fortunes.
When my grandfather acknowledged me as his heir on my seventeenth birthday, the contract came to light. Under normal circumstances, the Lannisters would never have willingly given their house, daughter, and fortune to the Starks.
Yet, despite being rivals, my grandfather had a cordial relationship with Adrian Stark. The heads of the houses reached a decision: I was to marry Markus Stark, the sole heir to the Starks. One of our children or grandchildren would inherit the Lannister name and lordship, while another would inherit the Stark name and lordship.
This arrangement preserved the Lannister line from being absorbed. Initially, I was dismayed by how things had turned out. When I first met Markus, I hated him. However, despite the contract deciding our marriage, he courted me earnestly.
Markus took me to various places, invited me to Winterfell, and showed me around. We spent time together, and I came to understand who he was. He could be brash, sometimes clueless, but he was also caring, loving, and thoughtful.
And he was mine. I couldn't stop myself from falling for him. I came to love him entirely, the good and the bad. The Starks were ruthless to their enemies, and Markus was as much a Stark as they come. But he was also my stupid, loving soon-to-be husband.
Soon we were married, and a year later, Aryan was born. He was a bundle of joy, mischievous for his age, sharp as a razor, with bright violet eyes that shone with intelligence and wisdom far beyond his years. He inherited his father's strong Stark physique and appearance, along with my eyes and sharp mind. He was the best of both of us.
The Stark bloodline is known for absorbing the strongest qualities of other bloodlines, enhancing itself. Children born from a Stark union typically have dark midnight hair, a strong physique, ice-cold blue eyes, and various magical abilities.
So, it was a surprise when Aryan inherited my bright violet eyes along with his Stark features. Just as Starks, blonde hair and violet or green eyes were common traits of the Lannisters and these eyes were not just for show.
They signify our heightened magical senses. Historically, the Lannisters were known for their strong magical abilities, with eyes strong enough to find gold veins deep beneath the earth's surface. Aryan's eyes were a testament to this strength.
This gave my grandfather ample reason to boast about the Lannister bloodline to Adrian Stark.
Today is Aryan's blessing ceremony. He will inherit the magical traits of both the Starks and Lannisters and be named heir to both houses. Adrian Stark, my father-in-law, has been excited about today; he has been preparing for months, consulting with greenseers and elders.
The greenseers, mysterious as they are, say Aryan has the highest potential in all Stark history.
Pop!
"Misty be bringing a message," announced the arriving house elf. "The guests be arriving now. Master Markus be calling Miss Joe."
"Where is he?" I asked.
"He be in the main hall, preparing," came the reply.
"Lead the way," I said, following the elf to the main hall. Now I have a feast to prepare and guests to welcome.