The Young Lion
Act 1 Ch 15: Interrupting a Street Brawl
After being dismissed from the Small Council chamber, Joffrey made his way to the training yard to vent his frustrations. He was currently doing so on some poor, unnamed squire, hacking and hammering at the young man, who was at least three years his elder. The prince pushed him back with a relentless assault. The squire, out of desperation, went for a thrust, but Joffrey easily parried the attack and followed up with a straight right cross to the squire's jaw that left him unconscious in the middle of the training ground.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Nervous clapping filled the otherwise silent training yard as the seasoned knights looked nervously at the unconscious squire. The prince ignored the anxious knights and made his way to the side table to take a drink from his leather waterskin. After a few gulps from the medieval canteen, Joffrey rolled his shoulders and walked back in front of the still-silent knights and their squires.
"Next," he ordered, waiting for someone to step up.
No one did. In fact, all of the knights remained silent and looked every way except in the Crown Prince's direction. Joffrey looked around, disappointed at the supposed brave knights standing around, frightened by a boy half their age. Shaking his head in derision, he turned and made his way to one of the straw training dummies. As the prince walked away, the knights let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Bunch of pussies," he thought as he stepped in front of the dummy.
Internally, he couldn't really blame them for their reluctance. After all, no one was overly eager to strike the Crown Prince and risk the Queen's wrath. Putting those thoughts to the back of his mind, he resumed his training—or venting—on the strawman. As he slashed and stabbed the dummy, a voice called out to him.
"Be sure to turn your hips, my prince," the older, grandfatherly voice called out. "That's where the real power comes from, not just your arms."
Joffrey turned, surprised as everyone else, as the living legend himself, Ser Barristan Selmy, made his way toward the prince. The prince straightened his back as he greeted the legendary knight.
"Ser Barristan," he said as he tilted his head.
"My prince," he greeted back before offering a deep bow.
"What brings the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard here?" He asked curiously.
"I came to work out some of my 'unsavory' feelings from earlier. It would appear you had the same idea, my prince."
"So it seems," he responded.
The odd pair just stared at each other for a moment, an awkward silence forming between them. As Joffrey looked over the old knight, he couldn't help but be impressed. He was an older man, easily in his sixties, with shoulder-length white hair and deep-lined features. Despite his age, the old knight still stood tall and strong, with clear muscular arms even under his gold plate armor.
"It's true what they say," he thought to himself. "Fear the old man in a culture where men die young."
"So, my prince," His words shook the prince out of his thoughts. "Would you care to go a round with me?"
"Huh?!"
Joffrey's eyes widened, along with all of the other knights present, upon hearing the Kingsguard's words. A kind smile grew on Barristan's face.
"I'm asking if you would like to train with me, my prince," He repeated to the still-stunned boy. "But you don't have to if you don't want to."
At the realization that he was about to receive a one-on-one training session with Ser Barristan the Bold, arguably the greatest swordsman in all Seven Kingdoms, his heart was filled with both excitement and anxiety. There was no doubt that his training with the Master-at-Arms Ser Aron was good, but he knew deep down that despite his orders, the knights were still holding back against him.
Yet now he had the chance to face one of the greatest warriors to ever live, and he knew the honorable knight would treat him like a warrior if he ordered him to, and that prospect made him anxious. Quelling his turbulent feelings, determination filled the prince's eyes as he stared up at the aged knight.
"On one condition," He said firmly, getting the Kingsguard's attention. "You're not to treat me as the Crown Prince."
Ser Barristan raised a brow upon hearing the prince's request, before a small smirk spread across his face.
"As you wish, my prince."
He tilted his head as he removed his white cloak, as well as his sword belt, before placing them on the table. After taking up a sparring sword, he checked its weight and balance with a few practice swings before making his way to the center of the training circle. The other knights and squires all cleared the way for the old knight, before he turned and gestured for the prince to join him.
Seeing the old knight's confident smile, as well as remembering his feats and reputation, Joffrey immediately began to second-guess his decision as he walked forward.
"Something tells me this is going to hurt," He thought as he steadily got into his high guard sword stance, with Ser Barristan taking the low guard.
"Whenever you're ready, my prince," he said calmly.
o-O-o
Joffrey let out a groan as his back hit the ground for the fiftieth time. Blood and pain filled his limbs as he lay sprawled out on the ground, panting heavily. Ser Barristan soon appeared above him, his face still smiling, before reaching out his hand.
"I hate you," He managed to wheeze out as he was hoisted to his feet.
"You're not the first to say that to me in the yard, my prince," He laughed.
"...You did slightly better that time, my prince," Ser Aron stated as he approached from the side.
"Geez, thanks, Ser Aron," Joffrey nearly scoffed as he rubbed his sore arm. "Any actual advice to help me improve?"
"I don't recommend hitting the ground so much," He shrugged slightly. "It makes you far too easy to kill."
Joffrey just stared at the Dornish Master-at-Arms with a deadpan expression, while Ser Barristan just chuckled.
"What about you, Ser Barristan? Any pointers you'd like to share?"
"Not much, my prince," he replied while holding his chin in contemplation. "Your technique and offense are fine. The only points that need your immediate attention would be your defense and experience."
Joffrey recalled that Ser Aron had said something similar.
"So what do you propose?"
"Nothing too drastic. Experience will come with time and practice, so there's no need to rush it. As for your defense, I'd suggest you take the time to familiarize yourself with some of the more passive stances rather than the aggressive high guard you seem to favor. I'd be more than happy to help you."
The prince perked up, hearing the Kingsguard's offer.
"Really?" He asked a little too eagerly, making the knight chuckle lightly.
"Of course, it would be my honor to help teach you, Prince Joffrey."
Many of the squires and even the knights cursed under their breaths at the prince's luck. Joffrey immediately agreed and felt rejuvenated enough to do another round.
"Well then, perhaps we should—"
Suddenly, a young boy, barely nine years old, rushed into the training yard, interrupting the prince mid-sentence. As the boy rushed toward the Crown Prince, the two knights at his side gripped their sword hilts, until Joffrey raised his hand, signaling for them to stand down. Seeing the knights relax, the young boy continued forward until he was a few arm lengths away from the prince.
"Well, hello there, little one," he said, smiling at the young child. "Is there something I can help you with?"
The boy didn't respond except by reaching into his dirty, ragged shirt and producing a rolled-up scroll. Seeing the piece of parchment, Joffrey signaled to Ser Aron with his eyes, to which the knight took the piece of paper from the boy. After unrolling it and reading its contents, the Dornish knight's face filled with surprise as he handed the piece of paper off to the prince.
Joffrey quickly skimmed through the contents of the scroll himself, and just like Ser Aron, the prince's eyes filled with surprise. After rolling up the scroll and placing it inside his crimson doublet, Joffrey turned his attention to the young boy.
"Thank you for delivering that to me," he said with a calm expression that didn't betray his inner thoughts. "Now run along. I'm sure your master has other things for you to do."
The boy bowed his head and quickly exited the training yard. With the boy gone, Joffrey stood up and went to put on his sword belt. Seeing the prince getting ready, Ser Barristan decided to do the same.
"What was inside the scroll, my prince?" He asked as a squire draped his white cloak on his shoulders.
"Apparently, the Spider would like to have a word with me," He said nonchalantly as he adjusted his longsword against his hip.
Barristan furrowed his brow upon hearing the prince's words. He'd always been suspicious of the eunuch ever since he'd whispered conspiracies in the Mad King's ear. Seeing the old knight's clear distrust, Joffrey decided to pose a question.
"Would you like to accompany me, Ser Barristan?" He asked.
"Of course, my prince." The Kingsguard knight bowed his head and followed behind the young prince as he exited the training ground.
After walking for some time, the pair found the Master of Whispers in a secluded corridor inside the Red Keep. As Joffrey approached, the plump, bald man quickly turned to greet him.
"My prince, and Lord Commander," he bowed deeply at the waist. "It pleases me greatly that you decided to accept my invitation."
"Invitation?" Joffrey asked as he looked over the bald, fat man.
He was dressed in an elegant purple silk gown with a vest of woven gold atop, and was once again doused in lavender perfume.
"Yes, yes, there is some important news that I believe would be of great interest to you, my prince."
"Oh? Like what?" He inquired, deciding to play along with the effeminate man's game.
"Why, my little birds sang me many songs this morning," He continued, folding his hands inside his sleeves. "Some kind, and others most dreadful."
"I grow tired of the word games, Lord Varys," He said, finally getting annoyed with all the posturing. "If you have news, share it. Otherwise, I suggest you stop wasting my time."
"Of course, of course. Apparently, the knight Ser Boros Blount has just recently returned to the Capital."
Both Joffrey and Ser Barristan looked surprised by the news.
"And? How is that of any concern to me?"
"Because my little birds have also informed me that the honorable Kingsguard may have run into certain 'trouble' on the road," He hinted, as a sly smirk grew on his face.
Joffrey's expression filled with shock at the eunuch's words.
"Where is he right now?" He asked sternly, stepping closer to the council member.
"I've heard he has just returned to his residence in the White Sword Tower, but I'm—"
Before Varys could finish, Joffrey was already making his way down the corridor, followed closely behind by Ser Barristan.
"My prince, why are you in such a rush? What's wrong?" He asked as he continued to trail behind the young prince.
Joffrey didn't respond; he just continued to walk as fast as his feet could carry him to the White Sword Tower on the other side of the Red Keep.
"This isn't good," was all he thought as he made his way down the stone hallway.
Eventually, the prince and the old knight arrived at the tower and quickly found the fat Kingsguard who had only just begun unpacking his supplies. Seeing the quickly approaching prince and his Lord Commander, Ser Boros stopped what he was doing to greet them.
"Lord Commander, My prince, how are you on this fine—"
But before he could finish, Joffrey cut him off.
"Where is my uncle?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point and cutting off any superfluous words.
The fat pig suddenly looked nervous, his eyes darting around in every direction except the prince's. Joffrey quickly grew agitated by the knight's lack of a response, but before he could ask again, Ser Barristan cut in.
"The prince asked you a question, Ser Boros," He said sternly.
"Yes, well, you see," Ser Boros coughed into his fist. "I did as you bid and accompanied your uncle all the way to the Wall along with the others. Eventually, we started to make our way south again, but when we got to the Crossroad Inn we ran into a bit of an issue."
"What issue?" He asked, his tone cold as ice.
"Apparently Lady Stark was also at the inn, with many of her family's bannermen."
"And?"
"And she began spouting nonsense about Lord Tyrion's involvement with an attempt on Lord Stark's son's life. She had them take him prisoner."
Joffrey remained silent, staring into the Kingsguard's eyes with a cold gaze. After a moment of silence, the prince finally spoke.
"You handed my uncle to Lady Stark?"
"No! No!" He waved his arms frantically. "We were outnumbered. I simply returned here to report it to His Grace."
Joffrey nodded his head, hearing the knight's words.
"I see," He paused. "And did you perhaps tell anyone else about this?"
Ser Boros once again looked uneasy as sweat formed on his brow before slowly nodding his head in confirmation.
"Who?"
"Ser Jaime." He answered nervously.
"Shit!" Joffrey yelled before turning to leave, only to stop and look back at the craven. "We're not done."
He said coldly before resuming his stride out of the tower, followed closely behind by Ser Barristan. As the pair rushed down the corridor, they happened to cross paths with the prince's Sworn Shield, Sandor Clegane.
"Where are you two off to?" He asked, confused as he drank from a cup.
"To hopefully stop a war," He responded without breaking his stride. "Come, Sandor."
The Hound shrugged his shoulders before tossing the cup away and followed behind the prince and Kingsguard.
o-O-o
The three men eventually made their way out of the Red Keep and to the horse stables. After each one found a mount, they made their way down the stone road and towards the Street of Silk as fast as their horses could carry them. Commoners scrambled to get out of the way as the group of three raced by. As the three came upon the clearing, they were greeted with a grim sight: his uncle, Ser Jaime, and over a dozen Lannister soldiers surrounding Lord Stark and his last remaining household guard. After bringing his horse to a halt, Joffrey drew all of the men's attention.
"What in the Seven Hells is going on here!" He shouted, making both the Northmen and Lannister soldiers look at him.
Joffrey quickly dismounted his horse, along with Ser Barristan and Sandor, who flanked the prince on both sides. The prince marched forward and could see that he was too late to prevent any bloodshed, with two of the Starks' household guards impaled on spears. As his nephew approached, Jaime called out to him.
"Joffrey, we're kinda in the middle of something here so how about—"
"SILENCE!" He shouted, cutting him off and shocking not just Jaime but all the others as well. "All of you, sheath your fucking steel!"
Both the Lannister soldiers and Northmen looked at each other, but none moved to obey the prince's command. Seeing the soldiers' disobedience, Joffrey decided to take it a step further.
"Unless, of course, you men still desire a fight." He said as he slowly drew his own longsword. "Very well, we shall be your opponents."
At his words, both Ser Barristan and Sandor drew their swords as well. Seeing the threatening image and understanding the death sentence that came with harming the Crown Prince, all of the soldiers laid down their weapons, while Jaime and Ned sheathed their swords. Once the soldiers finally stood down, Joffrey addressed both his uncle and the Northern lord.
"Both of you are returning with us to the Red Keep to face the King's judgment."
"My prince, I was simply leaving the brothel when—"
"Be quiet, Lord Stark," he replied coldly. "I have heard of what your wife has done, and you will answer to my father."
The quiet wolf looked as though he wanted to argue, but his sense of duty made him swallow whatever retort he might have had, and just bowed his head. Seeing the old wolf's compliance, Joffrey locked eyes with Jaime's, to which the Kingslayer reluctantly nodded his head. The prince then addressed the rest of the soldiers, but more specifically, the red cloaks.
"As for the rest of you, I suggest you fuck off in any direction you want, just not this one."
At Joffrey's words, the soldiers bowed their heads and made their way back down the street. As the soldiers walked away, the small crowd that had formed dispersed along with them, leaving the five men alone in the middle of the Street of Silk.
"Let's go," he ordered before walking, making his way back to his horse with the others quickly following suit.
o-O-o
After returning to the Red Keep and bringing the matter before the King and Queen, Joffrey was immediately dismissed from resolving the matter further. Understanding his position didn't grant him enough authority to argue further, and with his face still sore from the morning, Joffrey simply shrugged his shoulders and obeyed the king's command. Besides, with the fat stag tied up diffusing the conflict between the North and the West, Joffrey decided he had another matter that required his immediate attention.
Waiting alone in an empty corridor, the prince waited patiently until the wooden door flung open, and in walked Sandor, dragging a half-dressed and frightened Boros Blount with him. As he entered the room, the Sworn Shield tossed the fat knight at his feet before closing the door behind him. Looking around terrified, the craven Kingsguard slowly looked up to meet the cold gaze of the Crown Prince, who sat leisurely in a simple wooden chair.
"Hello again, Ser Boros," he said calmly as the fat knight's forehead began to drip with sweat.
"M-my prince," he started to stutter as he began rising to his feet. "I don't understand why I've been dragg—"
Before he could finish getting to his feet, the Hound approached him to his left and kicked him square in the ribs.
"You aren't to rise unless the prince says so, you fat cunt," He scoffed at the cowering form of one of the supposed elite knights of the Seven Kingdoms.
Joffrey simply raised his hand, signaling for his Sworn Shield to stand down, which the giant promptly did.
"I apologize for having you brought here under such conditions, Ser Boros," He said in an insincere tone. "But I felt there were some important matters for us to discuss."
He slowly unfolded his leg and rose to his feet.
"Now last we spoke, you started to tell me how Lady Stark took my uncle," He spoke coldly as he walked forward until he was standing right above the cowering knight. "I would like for you to tell me the complete tale, now."
After a moment of contemplation, the fat knight finally found the will to speak.
"...There isn't much for me to say that I haven't already spoken, my prince." He began, trying to find the right words to placate the clearly angered prince. "I did as you bid, protecting the Imp from the Wall all the way down the Kingsroad. Until we came upon the Crossroads Inn where your uncle crossed paths with Lady Catelyn. She then began spouting words of murder and treason and had all her father's bannermen slaughter the escort you'd provided. Frankly, it's a miracle I got out of there alive to report the news."
"Is that so?"
He said slowly as he examined the knight up and down until he gestured for the pig to stand, which he promptly did, pulling up his breeches as he did.
"Indeed, it was some vicious bloodshed I won't soon forget," He replied more confidently.
Joffrey didn't respond. He just continued to undress the Kingsguard with his eyes.
"Then where's your wound?" He finally asked, shocking the knight.
"W-what?"
"You said it was a bloodbath, one you'd barely escape with your life. So I'm asking you where your wound is, because as far as I can see, you don't have a mark on you."
The knight had become stunned silent by the prince's words.
"Well, I, um…" he looked as pathetic as a child that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Seeing the stuttering knight's inability to articulate a response, the prince pressed on.
"You handed my uncle over to the Stark bitch without putting up so much as a fight, didn't you?"
The knight remained silent, his words catching in his throat, until the Hound took a dangerous step forward. Seeing the knight's clear fear, Joffrey spoke in a reassuring tone.
"I just want the truth, Ser Boros, that's all. You have my word I won't have the Hound harm you, no matter your answer."
Letting out a shaky breath, the pig knight finally found the will to speak.
"Yes, my prince," he said slowly. "It's true."
Joffrey's eyes narrowed at the Kingsguard's confession.
"You handed my uncle over to our enemies despite your oath to obey the order I gave you?" He asked rhetorically as he slowly stepped into Ser Boros's personal space. "Do you realize what you've done? You not only disobeyed me and broke your oath, but you also have single-handedly started a war with your cowardice."
The middle-aged knight looked down at the ground with shame, still shaking with fear.
"I'm sorry, Prince Joffrey," He said whimpering.
Joffrey just gazed into the knight's eyes for a brief moment, before reaching down and drawing his dagger from his sword belt, driving it into the side of the knight's neck. The pig knight's eyes widened with shock and pain as he choked on the prince's blade, as a shocked Sandor watched on.
"You know what? I do not accept your apology," He responded before pulling the dagger out, making the Kingsguard drop like a sack of potatoes.
Sandor remained speechless for a few moments, just watching as blood pooled beneath the dead Kingsguard's body. The prince casually cleaned his dagger on the knight's pants before sheathing it back in his sword belt.
"Why did you do that?" Sandor finally asked, drawing the prince's attention.
"Because he disobeyed me and broke his oath," He responded.
"You do realize that was one of your father's seven Kingsguards, right?"
"I'm aware," he said as he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm also aware he was a craven, and I won't suffer cravens, no matter what color cloak they wear."
Sandor just shook his head at the prince's nonchalant attitude.
"So what do we do with him now?"
Joffrey seemed to ponder this for a moment, before coming up with an answer.
"Just use one of the passageways under the Red Keep and throw the body into the sea. The currents and rocks should do the rest."
Sandor just shrugged his shoulders and obeyed the prince's command. Walking over to the body and picking it up like it weighed nothing. As the Hound turned to leave, Joffrey called out to him.
"Just make sure nobody sees you, Sandor," He said sternly as the giant turned to look back at him.
His Sworn Shield just tilted his head and made his way out of the room, leaving the prince alone in the empty corridor with only his thoughts to keep him company.
"Alright, one down, five to go," He thought as he slowly exited the chamber.
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