The Young Lion
Act 1 Ch 16: The Death of a King
The following morning, the craven Kingsguard's body washed ashore, riddled with cuts and gashes from the bay's currents and rocks. Rumors began to circulate throughout the castle as to what could have happened to the fat knight and how he ended up in the sea. Some thought the knight had gotten drunk and tumbled off the cliffs of the castle to drown. Others believed that the Kingsguard had been so ashamed to have broken his oath to protect the Lannister imp that he had committed suicide to atone. Though the most popular theory was that the Kingslayer had extracted his pound of flesh on his fellow "brother" and killed the knight himself. All of the theories were popular, and yet none of them were true, and unfortunately, Jaime hadn't stuck around to clear up the misunderstanding.
After the prince had returned to the castle with the two enemies in tow, Robert flew into a rage. He screamed at his old friend Ned for resigning as Hand and for his wife's action in taking Tyrion, and had threatened Jaime with death if he ever dared to attack his friend again. By the end of it, however, the king had pardoned both of them and ordered their families to end their petty squabbles. After which, he decided to go on a hunt, saying how "killing things cleared his head," and took Renly, Barristan, and his useless squire Lancel Lannister with him, just as he did in the original timeline.
In fact, multiple things had begun to occur over the course of the following days; the events that would eventually lead to the War of Five Kings continued to unfold despite some of the prince's past attempts to prevent them. His "uncle" had fled King's Landing before dawn, accompanied by over thirty Lannister soldiers. When word of Tyrion's capture spread throughout the kingdoms, Tywin responded by calling his banners and began laying waste to the Riverlands, letting his mad dog put entire villages to the sword.
When the Riverland villagers arrived at the Capital to proclaim the horrors they had endured to the Hand of the King, Lord Stark responded by denouncing and detaining Ser Gregor and sentencing him to death. Despite not having suffered a wound in his battle against Jaime, Ned Stark still gave Beric Dondarrion the command to deliver the King's Justice and summoned Tywin Lannister to court.
Personally, Joffrey had begun to feel as though there was some universal force making events play out according to the original plotline. That's why it came as no surprise when a servant barged into his Solar, interrupting his meeting with Tobho, to deliver some grim news: his father had been gored by a boar during his hunt.
o-O-o
Joffrey quickly raced down the castle's hallway as fast as his feet could carry him. As he arrived in front of the King's Solar, he found most of the members of the Small Council waiting outside. As the prince approached, several of the council members turned and greeted him.
"My prince," Pycelle, Varys, Baelish, and Barristan said at the same time, bowing their heads.
"Where is he?" Joffrey asked with a solemn tone.
"Right through there, my dear," his mother's voice called out to him.
The prince glanced at the golden queen, whose hair was worn long, dressed in a lovely pink day dress. Joffrey just nodded his head and slowly approached the unassuming wooden door. The council members moved to follow him when he stopped and turned to face them.
"All of you wait outside," he ordered, his tone heavy and stern. "I wish to speak with my father alone."
Without waiting for a reply, Joffrey moved forward, a Kingsguard opening the door for him. As he stepped into the room, an all too familiar stench hit him first: a stench of death. The foul odor flooded the soon-to-be king's nostrils, filling them with the aroma of rot. It made him sick, making the back of his throat itch. Fighting the urge to vomit, Joffrey pushed forward, the door closing behind him.
Now inside the King's Solar, the prince glanced about the room. It was a large bedroom with a four-poster bed dominating the center of the room. The bed itself had golden drawings that matched the gold-encrusted braziers along the walls. There was a large work desk located to the side of the chamber, yet instead of documents, it was covered in empty pitchers of wine and crumbs of previous meals. The room itself was clearly illuminated by the large, open window that led to a balcony overlooking the bay below, letting in warm sun rays. As the prince walked to the center of the room, a voice called out to him from the bed.
"Is that you, boy?" The gruff but weak voice called out, followed by heavy coughing.
"It is, Your Grace," Joffrey responded, making his way over to the side of the bed.
Sitting down beside the fat stag, Joffrey became sickened by the sight. Slowly pulling down the sheet, the prince continued to fight the urge to vomit as he stared at the deep gorges protruding from the king's round belly. It was clumsily stitched and wrapped in bandages in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. Joffrey just looked with a downcast expression before pulling his eyes away to look upon the king's bearded face.
"My fault," he coughed. "Had too much wine."
"Why did you have to be such a damned fool, father?" He asked sadly.
The king half-laughed and half-coughed upon hearing the boy's question.
"Aye, I am a fool," he agreed, to the prince's surprise. Looking at his son's still bruised face, the king continued, "I'm sorry about striking you."
Joffrey didn't know how to respond to his words.
"So it takes you actually dying to get a real apology out of you?"
"Don't sass me, boy." He said jovially.
Both father and son shared a laugh for a moment until the king started coughing profusely. Joffrey quickly grabbed a glass of water off the side table, giving the glass to the king. After taking a sip, the king spit it out and threw the glass away.
"Piss on that, give me wine." He demanded.
Joffrey rolled his eyes before grabbing a goatskin that he knew was filled with some Arbor red. After guzzling down half the bag, the king turned his attention back to his son.
"You were right."
Joffrey looked confused by the king's words.
"About the Targaryen girl, you were right." He clarified, trying to sit up more in his bed. "You've made me proud, Joffrey. Just promise me, Joffrey, promise you won't become like me. A drunk buffoon who got himself killed by a pig."
"I promise."
Robert slowly and weakly reached his right hand out toward the prince, who leaned down to make it easier for him. The king slowly caressed the side of the prince's face, his large hand tenderly combing through the boy's blonde hair.
"You are my legacy, boy." He said lovingly as his hand continued to brush the side of the prince's face. "Now don't fuck it up."
Joffrey reached up and held the king's hand in his own, leaning into the warm gesture before kissing the back of his hand. A tinge of regret filled Joffrey's chest as he looked upon the king and his fleeting light. If only he could have been reborn just five years prior, then maybe he could've prevented all of this. But the second Joffrey realized that Ned Stark was never going to stop looking for the truth, he knew Robert had to die not only for his family's safety but also for the good of the realm.
Despite understanding that fact, he couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow. After all, he let a man who considered him his son walk to his own slaughter. Soon the chamber's door opened and the prince quickly quelled his inner turmoil. The Hand of the King led the council down the white stone steps. Seeing they were no longer alone, Robert turned his attention back to his son.
"Go on, boy," He said, wheezing. "You don't want to see this."
Joffrey just stood up from the king's bedside, his face a mask of stillness, before he promptly turned and walked out of the chamber, ignoring the gazes of pity from the others. The prince continued to walk down the castle's corridor and continued to ignore the servants who bowed their heads to him as he walked by. Getting back to his own chambers, he found Tobho still sitting there waiting for him.
"Is everything alright, my prince?" He asked as he rose to his feet.
"No," he shook his head, his tone neutral. "It's not, and I'm afraid we're going to have to finish this meeting another time. Also, I'm going to need you to stay away from the castle for the next few days."
Tobho started to grow concerned with the prince's sudden change in behavior.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You can help by doing as I commanded." He responded more sternly.
The old blacksmith was slightly taken aback by Joffrey's harsh response but simply bowed his head before exiting the chamber. Now alone in his room, Joffrey plopped down at his desk chair as the reality of his situation set in. Soon the kingdoms would be torn apart, brother would betray brother, houses would burn, innocents would die, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop any of it. But that didn't mean he was completely helpless.
Realizing he needed to speak with one of his own informants, Joffrey sat down at his desk, grabbing a scrap of paper as well as his ink and quill. After he finished writing the message, he approached his door where one of his trusted servants, Lilia, was waiting. After ordering all his meals to be delivered to his Solar and informing her that he didn't wish to be disturbed, he slipped her the piece of paper with instructions on who to deliver it to.
Lilia simply bowed her head and walked away to fulfill the prince's command. As Joffrey watched her retreating backside, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the Westeros nobles' foolishness in how they treated their servants. The various maids, washerwomen, stewards, grooms, kettle masters, cooks, and even stable boys were untapped wells of information. The only three who seemed to recognize this fact seemed to be Varys, Baelish, and his mother Cersei. Though even they seemed to undervalue them, treating them like pawns and playthings, instead of trusted friends and rewarding them accordingly.
In truth, it didn't take much to gain their favor and loyalty. A kind word here, a few coppers or extra food there, and voila—his own fledgling spy network. It would take years for it to grow as extensive as the other three's, but if nothing else, he had time and patience. Nodding to himself at the groundwork he had already laid, Joffrey returned to his desk. Now once again alone in his chamber with only his chaotic thoughts to keep him company, the prince decided to distract himself with one of the few things that brought him any relief. Pulling out a fresh piece of parchment, he dabbed his quill in the ink and began sketching a new design that would aid him in saving his bankrupt realm.
o-O-o
It was roughly around midnight when he heard knocking coming from his wall. Getting up from his desk, Joffrey slowly approached the far end brick wall, pushing one of the center bricks in, revealing one of the many hidden passages in the Red Keep. Slowly, a figure emerged from the hidden passage, wearing a cloak with a hood pulled all the way over, hiding their face. Joffrey slowly backed up, allowing them entry into his Solar. As the figure entered the prince's room, the flickering light from the chamber's braziers illuminated her figure.
"Thank you for arriving here on time, Senelle," Joffrey said, greeting the figure.
The figure slowly reached up with both hands and with long, white, delicate fingers pulled back the hood of the cloak, revealing the beautiful older woman's face.
"Of course, my prince, or should I say, Your Grace now?" She asked with a slight coy tone.
"Call me whatever you like," he responded back sternly, cutting through any flirty exchanges.
Realizing her mistake and understanding that the boy's father was about to die, Senelle bowed deeply at the waist.
"Apologies, I didn't mean any offense."
Taking a deep breath to calm himself.
"It's fine, no offense was taken; it's just been a trying day," He responded, waving off her concerns. "Please sit, we have much to discuss."
The pair sat down across from each other at an intimately small table with a pitcher of wine and two cups. Filling both the glasses, Joffrey took a sip, enjoying the flavor of the Dornish red, which he had come to find as his favorite wine, while Senelle did the same. After a brief moment of silence, the prince decided to get down to business.
"So what have you seen as of late, my lady?"
The handmaiden regarded him for a moment before speaking.
"Quite a bit actually," she answered as she slowly lowered her cup. "For one, your little doe-eyed northern girl came to speak with the queen this evening."
Joffrey raised a brow at this.
"Sansa, really? What did she need to discuss with my mother?"
"She told her that the Hand of the King planned to break your engagement and have herself along with her sister return to the north by ship."
"Is that so, and what did the queen tell her?"
"She promised the naive girl that she would do everything in her power to keep the engagement and thanked her for telling her, before sending her on her way."
Joffrey just nodded his head before taking a sip from his chalice.
"Anything else?"
"Yes, immediately afterward, she summoned Lord Baelish to her chambers." She paused, taking another sip from her cup. "I couldn't hear everything they discussed from the hidden passage you'd shown me, but the queen seemed quite… heated."
Joffrey closed his eyes, contemplating the stream of information.
"Everything is proceeding as expected." He thought to himself before slowly opening his eyes.
"Did you get me what I asked you for?"
Senelle slowly reached down into her cleavage and brought out a tiny rolled-up scroll whose seal had been broken. Joffrey took the tiny paper into his hand and unrolled it and began reading its contents. Apparently, Jaime had met up with Tywin at his encampment and was now marching on the Riverlands with half of the Lannister army, over thirty thousand men. After he finished reading the scroll's contents, Joffrey held the paper over the table's candle flame, letting it catch fire before tossing it to the cold stone floor.
"Well done, Senelle, you've served me well." He said as he pulled out a small pouch of gold dragons.
The Handmaiden took the small pouch from the soon-to-be king's hand before placing it down at the table next to her cup.
"Shall I serve you in other ways tonight, my prince?" She asked, her tone turning sultry.
Before he could respond, she slowly stood up and dropped her brown cloak to reveal the rather revealing nightgown she had on underneath. The gown was salmon pink, with gold embroidery, and was designed to enhance her natural curves. The mature woman standing before him wore a lewd smile on her face as she slowly approached his side of the table. Once she was standing over the still-sitting prince, she slowly went to her knees and began to unfasten his breeches strings.
Under normal circumstances, he would have taken the beautiful woman right then and there, but these weren't normal circumstances. He reached out, grasping Senelle by her wrist to cease her movements. The handmaiden looked up with a confused expression.
"Some other time, my lady." He said, shaking his head. "At the moment, I can't find the heart to indulge in such… activities." He said delicately.
Senelle looked disappointed but didn't protest, understanding the prince's feelings. She slowly stood up and put her dark brown cloak back on. The pair walked to the wall, where Joffrey opened the hidden passage once again. Senelle slowly stepped inside before she was stopped with the prince grabbing her wrist.
"I'm going to need you to be careful for the next few days, my lady." He said, his voice carrying an air of concern. "Things are about to become very dangerous around here."
The handmaiden just nodded her head, not understanding that Joffrey wasn't just referring to the castle but the entire country itself.
"Of course, my prince." She said, grateful for his concern. "If you require my assistance, just slip me a message, and if I learn anything new, I'll let you know."
Joffrey nodded his head at her words.
"Good," he said as Senelle turned to leave before she paused and, wearing a sly smirk, reached forward, wrapping her arms around the prince's neck, and launched her lips onto his. It wasn't a chaste kiss. It was a long, mature one, with the woman pushing her tongue into his mouth. The pair's tongues felt entangled, each trying to fight for dominance over the other, and ended with the handmaiden sucking on his tongue. After some time, her lips finally separated from his, and the pair gasped for air.
"Sweet dreams, my prince." She said with a coy smile.
"You fucking tease." He cursed her, his breeches having become uncomfortably tight.
Senelle simply giggled and made her way down the hidden passageway. The prince simply turned and re-entered his room, the wall closing behind him. Joffrey then returned to his table and proceeded to pour himself another glass before ultimately turning in for the night with the chaotic days that were still to come on his mind, even as he drifted off to sleep.
o-O-o
The following morning, the sun slowly rose above the horizon, and with it, the ringing of bells, which meant only one thing: the king was dead and Joffrey was the new king. Rising from his bed, Joffrey made his way to his armoire and, after shedding his nightclothes, began getting dressed. He ultimately decided on an exquisite black velvet doublet in gold brocade and matching breeches. After he finished wetting his hair and styling it to his liking, he tied his sword belt around his waist and made his way out of chambers.
After walking for some time, he eventually found his mother, who was unsurprisingly accompanied by over a dozen Lannister guards along with his sworn shield, who wore his custom dog-shaped helmet. She held his head against her bosom while whispering false sympathies about Robert's death in his ear. After they separated, the queen snapped her fingers at the royal steward, who eagerly stepped forward. In his hands, he held a pillow that held his father's crown on top of it.
Personally, Joffrey didn't much care for the ugly little thing. It was an intricate crown of gold that was carved into the shape of stag antlers. The sides were embedded with multiple round-cut topaz gems.
"This is yours now, my dear," his mother said in a proud voice as she handed him the circlet.
"So it seems," he responded as he rotated the crown in his hands as if inspecting it.
He finally placed the crown atop his head and found that his head was just large enough to wear it. His mother looked on proudly as she gave her son a look up and down. She hadn't given it much thought before, but now that he was standing before her, she finally noticed that Joffrey had grown several inches in the past few months, to the point she had to look up just to meet his gaze. She also noticed that his physique had filled out quite a bit based on how snug the doublet fit him, especially around the chest and arms.
"Ah, my baby boy's all grown up," She thought with pride as she unconsciously reached out and started to caress his bicep. "He's just like Jaime was at his age."
As sinful thoughts continued to enter the queen's head, Joffrey started to become rather uncomfortable by the queen's touch.
"Um, mother," he said, coughing to get her attention.
Seeing her inner thoughts had led her astray for a brief moment, the queen released her son's arm and straightened her back.
"Yes, well," she stuttered, trying to regain her composure. "I think it's time we head inside, my dear."
She said as she encircled her arm around his. Joffrey simply nodded his head in agreement.
"Yes, let's," he said, nodding his head to the Lannister soldiers, who all bowed their heads as one.
As the new king and his mother walked into the throne room at the head of their little entourage, Joffrey took in the full splendor of the great hall for the first time. The room was large and cavernous, with the entrance itself made up of two huge bronze and wood doors that required two servants to open. The floor was made of white marble with six large columns that reached all the way to the vaulted ceiling. Joffrey continued to march toward the large dais where his five Kingsguard stood at attention. At the center of the greatest knights was an old knight he had become quite familiar with over the past few days.
"Ser Barristan," Joffrey greeted as he pulled his arm away from his mother.
"Your Grace," the old knight bowed his head.
Joffrey gave the knight a respectful head tilt before he resumed his march up the black stone steps. After getting to the top of the raised dais, he finally took in the full sight of the legendary throne that countless powerful men coveted. It was much larger than the one displayed in the television series. It was a massive, asymmetrical monstrosity of spikes and twisted metal. Despite its rather "aggressive" appearance, Joffrey had to admit there was a certain gothic appeal to it, as though it beckoned one to sit upon it.
As the new king continued to take in the majesty of the Conqueror's Throne, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Lannister soldiers all taking their positions around the platform. Taking a deep breath, Joffrey took one step forward and slowly began to climb the iron steps leading to his seat. Walking past the rows of twisted blades that fanned out like fangs or talons, he felt they were ready to tear him to shreds at the first display of weakness. Yet the king pressed on, arriving at the top of the dais.
Looking down at the metal seat, a certain amount of anxiety filled Joffrey's chest, as though this was his last chance to back out. That once he took that seat, he was essentially "Crossing the Rubicon," and there would be no going back. So, taking one last breath and steadying his nerves, the king made his choice and slowly sat on the rather uncomfortable chair. As he gazed out across the entire hall, he finally started to understand the ugly chair's appeal.
"Alright, now I get it," He thought before turning his attention to the royal steward, who was standing to the left side of the throne.
"Summon my Small Council members." He commanded, his voice carrying across the room. "I will be accepting oaths of fealty from my subjects."
"Of course, Your Grace." The middle-aged man bowed before strutting out of the throne room.
A tension held in the air, a tension that every man in the room could feel. As though a storm was brewing outside the chamber's halls, a storm that would shake the kingdoms to its core. And like sailors on the high seas, Joffrey and his family's men were going to have to face it head on, whether they wanted to or not.
"Alright, here we go."
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