When Ned heard the sounds of battle erupting within the Tower of the Hand, his face, usually a mask of stone, was filled with astonishment and fury. "How dare he?!" he roared. "Robert is barely cold, and Cersei is already making her move for the throne?"
The clash of steel and the screams of his men grew louder, closer. Before Ned could react further, the doors to his solar burst open, and Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, strode in, his armor splattered with the blood of Stark men.
"Kingslayer!" Ned snarled, his hands braced on the table in front of him, his eyes blazing with a rage hot enough to melt steel. "You dare commit treason?!"
Jaime calmly removed his golden lion helm, tucking it under his arm. He ran a hand through his short, blond hair, a charming, insolent smile playing on his lips. "By order of His Majesty, King Joffrey," he announced coolly, "Eddard Stark, you are under arrest for conspiring with Stannis Baratheon to usurp the Iron Throne."
"Joffrey has no claim to Robert's throne!" Ned thundered, his fury escalating. "He is not Robert's son, and he is not fit to sit that chair!"
"Silence him," Jaime ordered, his smile vanishing. He would not allow that poison to be spoken aloud again. "Gag him and arrest him."
Jory Cassel lunged forward to protect his lord but was brutally cut down by the Lannister soldiers who swarmed the room. Within moments, they had seized Ned, binding his hands with rope and stuffing a cloth into his mouth to choke off his protests.
With Ned Stark captured, Jaime let out a quiet sigh of relief. He then ordered his men to find the Stark children. Soon after, Sansa and Bran were dragged from their rooms and taken prisoner. Only Arya, quick and nimble, managed to slip away, vanishing into the secret tunnels of the Red Keep.
With the Hand of the King in chains, Cersei Lannister had mastered the Red Keep.
Shortly thereafter, before the assembled lords of the court, the new king, Joffrey, sat upon the Iron Throne and was proclaimed Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, Petyr Baelish, and the Master of Whisperers, Varys the Spider, saw which way the winds were blowing. They wisely bowed their heads and pledged their fealty.
For his part in the coup, Janos Slynt, the Commander of the City Watch, was named Lord of Harrenhal. With that single act, the nearly five thousand gold cloaks of King's Landing were now firmly under Lannister control.
Joffrey, dressed in magnificent robes, squirmed on the sharp, uncomfortable throne. He was only fifteen, and the thrill of power flushed his cheeks with excitement. He looked down at Sandor Clegane, the Hound, who stood at his side.
"Dog," Joffrey announced with immense pride, "you will be my Kingsguard. I shall grant you a knighthood!"
The Hound's lips curled into a sneer, the burn scars on his face twisting hideously. "To hell with knighthood. I don't give a damn about it." He glanced disdainfully at the other white-cloaked knights. Aside from Jaime Lannister and the aging Barristan Selmy, they were a pathetic collection of sycophants. "And you can forget the Kingsguard. I've no wish to serve alongside these fools."
Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Mandon Moore glared at him, but held their tongues. Cersei, too, was not keen on the idea. While the Hound's strength was undeniable, his scarred face was an ugly mark on the pristine image of the royal protectors. She allowed him to refuse the offer.
"Ser Jaime will serve as the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard," she declared smoothly. "As for Ser Barristan Selmy, he is of an advanced age. We shall reward him with a fief and allow him to return to his home to live out his days in peace."
This was the moment she had been waiting for.
Joffrey, however, lacked his mother's subtlety. He sneered at the old knight. "That useless old man should be thrown in a dungeon with Ned Stark! He's worthless. He failed to protect my father!"
At this public, venomous insult, a deep flush spread across Ser Barristan's face. His lips trembled, and his white beard bristled with fury. With a slow, deliberate movement, he unclasped the white cloak of the Kingsguard, the symbol of his life's vow, and let it fall to the floor. He drew his sword and threw it down beside the cloak with a loud clatter.
He glared up at the boy on the Iron Throne. "I have served the Kingsguard for more than forty years. I have served three kings with loyalty and honor. My service is not for a callow boy like you to spit upon." His voice, though quiet, resonated with power. "Since you have no need of me, Your Grace, you can give the captaincy to whomever you please."
Without another word, Ser Barristan turned and strode from the throne room. No one dared to stop him.
Joffrey, momentarily stunned by the old knight's defiance, finally found his voice. His handsome face was now purple with rage. He leaped from the throne, pointing a trembling finger at the door. "Guards! Seize that old man! He was insolent to his king! I'll have his head!"
Cersei rose from her seat beside the throne and gently guided her furious son back onto it. "Your Grace, calm yourself," she cooed. "Don't be angry. The traitor Barristan Selmy will get the punishment he deserves. No one may be rude to the king and escape justice."
Soothed by his mother's words, the young king settled back onto the Iron Throne, listening as a list of appointments and rewards was read out to secure the loyalty of the powerful. The rumors that he and his siblings were bastards had already spread across Westeros. With Ned Stark publicly supporting Stannis, Joffrey's hold on the throne was fragile, and he hated Ned for it.
Later that night, as Cersei lay beside Jaime, she outlined her plan. "Ned Stark is in our dungeons," she said, her voice serious. "When news of his 'treason' reaches the North, the young wolf, Robb Stark of Winterfell, will surely call his banners. I need you to return to Casterly Rock. You and Father must lead our armies against him."
Jaime lazily caressed her skin. "Don't worry," he said with a confident smirk. "I'll crush that Stark cub, drag him back to King's Landing, and throw him in a cell next to his father. No one will ever threaten Joffrey's throne."
The next day, Jaime Lannister and a dozen of his best knights rode west for the Westerlands.
In Maegor's Holdfast, Sansa and Bran Stark awaited their unknown fate with terror. In the filthy alleys of Flea Bottom, Arya, disguised as a beggar boy, fought for survival, avoiding the gold cloaks who now searched the city for the last, lost wolf.
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