The Young Lion
Act 1 Ch 18: A False Confession
The light of dawn came early the following morning. Far too early.
As the rays of light spread out and illuminated the supposed greatest city in all of Westeros, they also revealed the chaos that had flooded every corner of the capital. From the stone halls of the Red Keep to the slums of Flea Bottom, not a single person remained untouched by the sudden power vacuum born from the former king's death and the many claimants that sought to fill it. Joffrey knew this was all playing out according to the original timeline, both in the books and the show, a fact that vexed him to no end.
Renly Baratheon had fled the capital the previous day through the Old Gate, accompanied by Ser Loras Tyrell and over fifty retainers. According to the spider, he had last been seen galloping to the Reach in haste. Stannis remained quiet on Dragonstone, though Joffrey doubted that would last much longer, especially with the Northman messenger managing to slip through his men's fingers. The queen and several of his "loyal" council members had already made their moves through his betrothed, Sansa Stark, manipulating her into writing a letter to her brother Robb professing their father's treason.
Robb, of course, saw through the farce, responding by calling his family's banners. Now, a force of twenty thousand men was mustering in the North. That didn't even include his grandfather and uncle, who continued their campaign of razing the Riverlands to the ground. All of these events continued to play out before the new king's eyes. To know the future, yet to have been thus far powerless to stop it, was maddening.
It was mostly due to the fact that he didn't have any actual power to call his own despite his new position. The Lannister soldiers answered to his mother, or more accurately, his grandfather, and didn't possess any personal sense of loyalty towards him beyond blood ties. The spider had a spy network that spread across not one but two continents, with information more valuable than gold, making the eunuch indispensable, especially in times of strife. Even Littlefinger held a better position than he did in the current state of the game; not only did he have half of the city bought and paid for, but he also commanded roughly two thousand Gold Cloaks who answered only to him.
It was ironic, as far as the new king was concerned. Despite holding the title of ruler and protector of the realm, he was actually little more than a figurehead for the real powers working behind the scenes. An error he would see rectified in the immediate future. For the time being, he had other matters to attend to, which mostly involved holding court and dealing with the horde of sycophants.
After the Stark's little coup failed and he and his entire house had been taken into custody, ravens had been sent out from the deserts of Dorne all the way to the frozen tundras of the North, commanding every noble house, great and low, to come to the capital and swear fealty to the Crown, recognizing Joffrey as their rightful king. Many in the Crownlands immediately complied and journeyed to King's Landing to swear allegiance before the Iron Throne itself. Most major houses, however, had either ignored his summons or, some of the more bold ones, had flat out refused.
The new king could begrudgingly understand the nobility's attitude. War was just over the horizon, so most weren't keen on settling on whom to support or swear oaths to until all of the contestants revealed themselves. For those that did answer his summons, Joffrey was certain they were just as untrustworthy as their peers and would turn on him at a moment's notice. The hard part was going to be finding out who was who inside his court. So for the time being, Joffrey decided to play along, at least until he could find a way to make the hidden vipers reveal themselves.
Which was what he was currently doing as he sat upon his throne and handed out rewards for his "loyal" subjects who helped put down the Stark conspiracy. Soon, Janos Slynt stepped toward the dais stone steps and went to one knee. The king had only seen the City Watch Commander on a couple of occasions, but now, as the man kneeled before him, he looked every bit as slimy as he'd imagined.
He was a short and stout man, with a jowly face and a bald pate. The frog-faced man was dressed in the watch's ridiculous uniform of ornate gold plate and matching ring-mail. As Joffrey leaned back on his throne, resting his head on his fist, Grand Maester Pycelle read off his decrees to the entire court.
"It is also the wish of his grace that his loyal servant Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch, be at once raised to the rank of lord," he mumbled in his usually feeble voice. "...And granted the ancient seat of Harrenhal, and that his sons and grandsons shall hold this honor after him until the end of time."
Once the old ferret finished his proclamations, the commander lifted his head and stared at the young king with a smug, self-satisfied smile. The little man bowed his head and exited to the right of the throne.
"Fucking worm," Joffrey thought with disgust as the pompous little man walked away. As the man left his sight, the Grand Maester continued to read off his "decrees."
"In the place of the traitor Eddard of House Stark, it is the wish of his grace that Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, be named Hand of the King."
As the old man spoke, Joffrey's eyes were drawn to the young Sansa Stark, who was slowly making her way into the Throne Room. She was dressed in a lovely sky-blue day dress, and her auburn-red hair was braided in the same fashion as his mother, with two pigtails resting just above her bosom. Around her neck, she wore the exquisite silver and sapphire necklace he had gifted her days prior. The young noble girl continued to make her way past the disgruntled noblemen and stopped left of the raised dais. Joffrey's eyes found hers and he gave her a subtle but kind smile, something that didn't go unnoticed by the queen, who looked at the Stark girl with a frosty gaze. Before any words could be spoken, the old maester made another announcement.
"Lastly, in these times of treason and turmoil, it is the view of the council that the life and safety of King Joffrey be of paramount importance."
At his words, the queen mother slowly rose from her chair that sat beside the throne's iron steps. Joffrey immediately perked up upon hearing the maester's declaration.
"Here it comes," he thought as his mother rose to her feet.
This was the moment when the legendary knight was unceremoniously dismissed from the Kingsguard, an impractical and frankly stupid move. The queen and the original Joffrey had believed it to be their idea to move Jaime into a more favorable position by making him the new Lord Commander, though the new Joffrey knew the truth: it was a ploy orchestrated by the eunuch to have the old knight travel to Essos and support the Targaryens' cause to retake the Iron Throne.
So far, the new Joffrey hadn't been able to make any significant changes to the original timeline due to certain circumstances and his own weak position. But now he had an opportunity to make some real ripples and hopefully switch up the board a bit.
"Ser Barristan Selmy," Cersei spoke out, unaware of her son's inner thoughts.
At the queen's words, the old knight walked out from the line of his fellow brothers and made his way to the middle of the hall.
"Your grace," he spoke as he went to one knee. "I am yours to command."
"Ser Barristan, you—" But before she could finish, Joffrey cut her off.
"Remove your helm, Ser Barristan." Joffrey commanded as he sat up straighter on his throne, giving the knight his full attention.
The old knight reluctantly complied and slowly brought both of his hands up and removed his helmet before placing it onto the white marble floor.
"That's better," the king continued as the confused council members looked at one another since the king wasn't following their plan. "Remind me, Ser Barristan, how many kings have you served during your years as a Kingsguard?"
"Three, your grace," he replied immediately.
"Ah yes, three," Joffrey brought his hand to his chin in contemplation. "And who could forget your many exploits during those loyal years of service? Slaying Maelys the Monstrous, ending the threat of the Blackfyre pretenders forever. Saving Aerys the Second during the Defiance of Duskendale. I believe you even faced my father in the Battle of the Trident. Is that correct?"
"It is, your grace," he replied with a reserved tone.
Murmurs began filling the hall as the king recounted the many feats of the legendary knight. The Small Council members looked confused, while the Kingsguard commander continued to look somewhat unsure.
"Yes, I can say without a shadow of a doubt there is no living knight today that can compare with you," he continued as he slowly rose from his seat and began walking down the cold iron steps. "However, despite your many accomplishments and displays of loyalty, there are those who believe that your fighting days are behind you. That it'd be for the best if you hung up your white cloak and retired to live out your days in some holdfast in peace."
He then stepped off of the throne's iron steps and glanced briefly at his Small Council members, before turning his attention back to the still kneeling Kingsguard.
"Though you will not count me among them," he finished as he passed by his other four bodyguards who made way for their king. "I'd say that your best days are still ahead of you, and I'll need someone with your experience and wisdom by my side in the turbulent days that are sure to come. So I ask you now, Ser Barristan The Bold, will you continue to stand beside me and serve the realms of men, or will you rot away in some keep, wondering what might have been?"
Ser Barristan looked up at the young, golden king with wide eyes. For years he had believed the crown prince was a sadistic, egotistical craven and frankly dreaded the day he would have to serve under him, as he had for the Mad King. Though ever since their journey to Winterfell, something within the young man had changed. Where he was once spoiled, petulant, and short-sighted, he was now determined, dutiful, and single-minded in his pursuits. In many ways, the new king reminded him more and more of his silver prince.
"Perhaps he's the one I've been waiting for," he thought before he reached down to his hip and slowly drew his new longsword.
Then, with visible tears welling in the corner of his eyes, he slowly placed the blade at the king's feet, displaying to the entire Royal Court his renewed fealty. Joffrey smiled at the display and stretched out his right hand to his Lord Commander.
"On your feet, Ser Knight, for I and the realm are still in need of your service." He said kindly, still holding his hand out.
Barristan, seeing the outstretched arm, slowly reached out with his left and clasped the king's forearm before he was hoisted to his feet. The whole court, with the exception of the Small Council, cheered and clapped their hands as the king gave the Lord Commander a wide smile while he patted the knight's pauldron, before he pulled him close and whispered into his ear. The knight's expression grew shocked as Joffrey spoke to him in a low voice that no one else in the court could hear. After separating, the king reached down and picked up the sword that had been laid at his feet. Examining the blade that had been made from the finest castle-forged steel before handing it back to Ser Barristan.
"One day I shall award you with a blade worthy of you," he spoke stoically as the knight sheathed the blade.
"Honorable service is its own reward, your grace," the knight replied immediately.
"Indeed," he nodded his head in agreement. "Now rejoin your brothers."
Ser Barristan nodded, picking up his ornate and frankly impractical golden helm, and walked side by side with the king toward the throne, while the court continued to clap and cheer. Joffrey's little gamble had worked as far as he could see. By reminding everyone in his court of the older knight's many feats and accomplishments, he hoped to paint a picture of a king that was both wise and just despite his young age. Also, it reminded all the little mice that were hiding amongst his court of the caliber of men he had under his command. With just one move, Joffrey had managed to kill three birds with one stone.
As he made his way back up the iron stairs, Joffrey didn't pay any mind to his still-stunned council members or their slack-jawed astonishment. After taking his seat once again, he gestured with his eyes for the royal steward to continue.
"If any man in this hall has other matters to set before his grace, let him speak now or go forth and hold his silence," he spoke out, his voice echoing across the hall.
Taking that as her cue, Sansa slowly stepped out, flanked by two Lannister soldiers.
"Your grace," she spoke out softly.
"Come forward, my lady," he replied, giving the naive girl a reassuring smile.
The girl slowly stepped toward the center of the hall, while Joffrey gestured for the two Lannister soldiers to remain back.
"The Lady Sansa of House Stark," the Royal Steward announced for all to hear.
"Do you have some business for the king and the Council, Sansa?" the queen asked, resuming the script they all thought they were acting on.
"I do," she replied softly as she slowly went to both knees before the entire court. "As it pleases your grace, I ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark, who was Hand of the King."
"Treason is a noxious weed," Grand Maester Pycelle interjected. "It should be torn out root and—"
Before the old ferret could finish, the king cut him off.
"Be silent," he replied sharply. "I want to hear what she has to say."
"Thank you, your grace," she replied with a hint of affection.
"Do you deny your father's crimes?" Littlefinger inquired.
"No, my lords, I know he must be punished. All I ask is mercy. I know my father must regret what he did; he was King Robert's friend and he loved him. All of you know he loved him. He never wanted to be Hand until the King asked him to."
"He said I wasn't the king," Joffrey spoke out, his tone neutral and even. "He said I had no claim to the throne. Why would he say something like that?"
"They must have lied to him!" Sansa spoke out quickly. "Lord Renly or maybe Stannis, one of them must have lied!"
Joffrey pretended to ponder the girl's words as Varys took it as his chance to speak up.
"A child's faith," he said, his voice soft. "...Such sweet innocence. And yet they say wisdom often comes from the mouths of babes."
"Treason is treason!" Pycelle emphasized emphatically.
Sansa simply swallowed deeply as she looked up, frightened by the old man.
"Anything else, my lady?" the king asked, giving her a window for her plea.
"If you still have any affection in your heart for me, please do me this one kindness, your grace." She pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks and pooling on the floor.
Joffrey sat back on his throne as if to ponder all of his options, while not only his council but the entire court watched on intently. After a moment of silence, the boy king seemed to finally come to a decision.
"Your sweet words have moved me, my lady," he spoke out, gaining an audible sigh of relief from his council members. "But your father must confess. He must confess his sins and proclaim me the rightful king. Or there will be no mercy for him."
"He will."
o-O-o
After the court proceedings ended for the day, the nobles and other servants cleared the Throne Room, leaving Joffrey alone with his council members and Kingsguard. As Joffrey made his way down the iron steps of the throne again, his councilors gathered at the base of the throne, each clearly agitated.
"Joffrey, what were you thinking?!" she shouted, almost red in the face. "Why did you go against our plan?! Why keep this relic by your side?!"
Joffrey's face remained impassive at his mother's words. He waited patiently for her to finish her little tantrum before he spoke.
"Our plan? I don't know what you mean, Mother?" he asked with a genuinely confused tone. "I don't recall agreeing to have Ser Barristan dismissed from my service."
Cersei appeared slightly taken aback by her son's response. Before she could respond, the spider decided to interject.
"Your grace, we each discussed this action at length, and all of us came to the conclusion that for your own safety it would be best if Sandor took a position on your Kingsguard in place of Ser Barristan."
The king turned his head and looked deeply into the Eunuch's eyes. The gaze was a knowing one, as if he could see Varys as bare as a newborn babe. Frankly, it sent shivers down the spymaster's spine.
"Yes, well, I took all of those suggestions into account, and after careful consideration, I decided that it would be wiser to keep Ser Barristan by my side," he replied evenly, waving his hand dismissively at the spymaster.
All the council members became silent upon hearing the king's frank and blunt words. They had all assumed that their new king would be naive and easy to control, letting him rule as a figurehead while they controlled the kingdoms from behind the scenes, much like they had done under Robert Baratheon. But now, the boy king in front of them was displaying independence and decisiveness they hadn't anticipated.
Joffrey then handed off his father's ridiculous crown to the Royal Steward, who carefully placed it on a pillow. After adjusting his sword hung at his hip, he turned his attention to his still-silent advisors.
"That's enough for today," he slowly looked each of his advisors in the eye. "I'll see all of you at the Small Council meeting later this afternoon." He stated before turning and leaving the still-stunned Small Council members on the platform.
Each watched the king's back as he made his way out of the Throne Room with his five Kingsguard trailing behind him. Each of the advisors wore different expressions as they watched their new king leave. Cersei was flabbergasted, Pycelle was surprised, Littlefinger contemplative, and Varys irritated, his calm mask cracking for just a moment as he bit his lower lip in annoyance.
As he walked down the stone corridor, a sly grin grew on his face.
"Now I just have to let the spider convince the wolf," he thought as he continued his stride down the hallway.
o-O-o
Later that day, whilst the king was in a meeting with Tobho, a servant came to him to inform him that Ned Stark wished to confess. Joffrey quickly wrapped up his meeting with the blacksmith, giving him a few sketches before sending him on his way. Now alone in his new solar, Joffrey dressed himself in a black and crimson brocade coat, with plain black leather breeches and matching boots. After tying his sword belt around his hip, he finally decided it was time to wear his new royal fur brocade cloak.
It was a dark red cape with black fur lining, though its most distinctive feature was the pelt sewn into the collar. It was the Shadowcat Joffrey had slain months prior at the Crossroads Inn. Its mane draped off the king's right shoulder and around the back of his neck, while the top part of its skull and upper jaw rested on his left shoulder. The cape itself was connected by a gold chain at the top of his chest.
Looking himself over in the mirror, Joffrey had to admit he certainly fit the image of a young fantasy world king. Making his way out of his solar, he summoned his advisors, giving them orders to make the necessary arrangements for the northern lord's public confession. After some discussion, they agreed that the Sept of Baelor was the best place for such an event, just like the series. Though the outcome would be much different if Joffrey had anything to say about it.
Once the preparations were finished, the Small Council, the Stark girls, and even the High Septon all gathered at a platform erected before the Great Sept of Baelor the Blessed and awaited for Ned Stark to be escorted out to them.
A few moments passed as a crowd of smallfolk and nobles alike gathered before the platform, wanting to witness the Quiet Wolf's confession. The noble girls all gazed up at the newly crowned king with a mixture of expressions, some subtly inviting, others more overtly admiring.
Both his mother and intended both looked ready to spit fire at the flagrant lust the young women were sending the king's way. The King, however, just shook his head in derision and ignored the women's antics. After waiting for a few more moments, the doors finally opened and Ned Stark was dragged outside with two Gold Cloaks on both sides. He was still dressed in the same attire that he wore when he was captured a few days prior, though now his long brown hair was unkempt and his arms were bound in irons.
Slowly, the Gold Cloaks pushed the treacherous lord through the crowd, who yelled obscenities at him while others threw rotten fruit. Arya looked ready to lash out and attack the commoners but was held back by the Hound's firm hand. Slowly making his way up the steps, Sansa gave her father a reassuring look as he walked past. Once Eddard was at the center of the stage, he was turned outward to face the crowd as the two guards backed away.
"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Hand of the King," he paused, gazing up at the platform at his eldest daughter Sansa, who gave the clearly conflicted lord a reassuring nod. "I come before you to confess my treason, in the sight of gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold, I plotted to murder his son, and seize the throne for myself."
The crowd immediately erupted, shouting "traitor" over and over at the disgraced nobleman. Suddenly, a rock came flying out of the crowd, striking the defenseless lord in the head. Ser Barristan immediately stepped up and helped Ned Stark back up to his feet. Slightly wobbled, blood began to drip down Eddard's face as Barristan stood to his right, defending him from any more projectiles.
"Let the High Septon and Baelor the Blessed bear witness to what I say," he continued, still unsteady. "Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."
The crowd continued to yell, as the Grand Maester slowly stepped up.
"As we sin, so do we suffer," he muttered. "This man has confessed his crimes in the sight of gods and men. The gods are just, but beloved Baelor taught us they can also be merciful."
Slowly, the Grand Maester turned his attention to the king and his mother.
"What is to be done with this traitor, your grace?"
At the old man's words, the crowd erupted into cheers for death and punishments. Seeing this was his opportunity, Joffrey left his mother's side and slowly walked down the steps till he was on the same level as Eddard. The crowd continued to jeer and yell, until Joffrey raised his hands for silence. Slowly, the crowd quieted down, and Joffrey gave the northern lord a sympathetic look before he turned to address the crowd.
"This man attempted to steal my throne and murder me and my siblings," he spoke out, making the mob furious once again. "Any ordinary man would be facing the executioner's blade."
The crowd continued to cheer, all shouting for the former Hand's execution.
"But I ask all of you, is this any ordinary man?" he asked the raging crowd, who suddenly became quiet. "Have all of you already forgotten the days of fire? Of living under the yoke of tyranny beneath the Mad King?" Joffrey's voice was filled with passion as the whole crowd felt drawn in by the king's words. "I would ask you, who were the heroes who freed you from that yoke?"
Murmurs and whispering filled the crowd, while the Small Council looked on, somewhat impressed by the king's unrehearsed speech.
"If you have, then allow me to remind you, for it was this man," he said, gesturing to the still-bleeding Northman. "This man who fought side by side with my father to free all of you and dispense justice on the tyrannical dragon. So what should we do with such a man who has sacrificed so much? Do we simply cut them down like any other and cast them away?
A silence hung in the air as Joffrey paused to build up tension. Everyone was literally on the edge of their seats, hearing the king's passionate speech.
"No!" he shouted out, his voice brimming with conviction. "If they fall, we reach our hands out and help them stand back up!"
Joffrey slowly made his way over to the stunned and bleeding wolf.
"I shall allow him to take the black and continue to serve the realm that he once saved," he said as he placed his right hand on the Quiet Wolf's shoulder. "Is this fair, my citizens?! Is this just?!"
The crowd broke out into applause and cheers for the young king's judgment; any doubts they might've had evaporated like spit on a hot summer day. He gazed up at his future wife, who smiled lovingly at him before nodding her head. The queen looked pleased enough, wearing a self-satisfied smile. While the spider appeared the most relieved out of anyone there. Guards slowly stepped forward to take Eddard into custody, but Joffrey's arm blocked their path.
"Our northern lord seems to require treatment," he said before turning his attention to Pycelle. "Grand Maester, see to his injuries."
Joffrey then turned his attention to the Lannister guards standing at attention.
"Escort Lord Stark and his family to their former residence in the Tower of the Hand. He is to be kept bound and under guard at all times. Is that clear?"
"Yes, your grace." They bowed their heads and quickly grasped the northern lord by his arms and escorted him off the platform along with his two girls. Grand Maester Pycelle slowly waddled behind them as they left.
o-O-o
Eddard sat alone in his former chamber, his wrist and ankles still bound in irons. His head had been treated with some kind of white paste to prevent infection and wrapped in white gauze. The northern lord was beginning to wonder why he had been brought back to the tower instead of being thrown into one of the Black Cells after he had finished getting treated. As he continued to ponder his current circumstances, the door to his chamber opened, and in walked the newly crowned King Joffrey and two servants.
They placed two trays of food on the table in front of him, as well as a pitcher of wine and two cups. Once they finished, they bowed their heads to the king and quickly left the chamber, leaving the two alone.
"Hello, Lord Stark," Joffrey said politely to the sitting and bound lord. "I think it's time we have a little talk."
High and welcome to my first official story. Since I'm new I'd appreciate some praise and a little interaction, just trying to get to know my audience you know. Anyway with that in mind I'd appreciate you taking the time to leave a review and some critique, and I'll do my best to read them.
If you like my story and want to read more checkout my Patreon where you can read ahead for just a small fee.
The URL is patreon.com/RoguePrince69.
The current tiers and number of advanced chapters are
Copper: 2$- 2 chapters ahead.
Silver: 5$- 5 chapters ahead.
Gold: 10$- 10 chapters ahead.