The Young Lion
Act 1 Ch 19: Winter is Coming Lord Stark
"Hello, Lord Stark," Joffrey said politely to the sitting and bound lord. "I think it's time we have a little talk."
Ned looked up at the young king with bewilderment, not sure how to respond to the sudden development, as Joffrey slowly took the seat across from him. As the odd pair stared across the table at one another, an awkward silence filled the room.
"Oh, don't mind me, my Lord," he said with a casual smile. "You must be starved from your time in the Black Cells."
Eddard looked down at the platter in front of him with skepticism. Seeing the distrustful gaze, Joffrey reached out and switched the two plates and began eating the food himself. Although the chained northern lord would have liked nothing better than to toss the food and tray on the floor, the new king had been right; he was famished, and pride gave way to hunger as Lord Eddard dug into the roasted chicken.
Joffrey waited patiently while the former Hand stuffed his mouth, sitting back and taking a sip of the Arbor Red he had brought with him. Within a few minutes, the tray was completely empty, and Ned Stark slowly sat back into his chair, his hunger subsided.
"What do you want, Joffrey?" he asked in a cold, flat tone.
"Wow," Joffrey laughed. "Not even a thank you for the meal? Did your time in the Black Cells make you forget proper etiquette?"
Ned just snorted at the young king's sarcastic remark.
"You want me to give thanks to someone who ordered the slaughter of all of my men?"
Joffrey's eyes widened slightly at the sheer venom in the Quiet Wolf's voice.
"You're blaming me for your men's deaths? Oh, gods, I hope you're kidding."
"It's the truth," he responded flatly.
"Is it now? Because I seem to recall offering you the chance to surrender and kneel, and you didn't take it."
"Well, that was-" The northern lord tried to think of something to say, but the king cut him off.
"You thought you had the upper hand over me," he interjected. "You thought I was begging you for my and my men's lives, but I wasn't. I was offering you yours."
Eddard was slightly taken aback by Joffrey's words, and they filled him with indignation and anger, mostly because he couldn't refute them.
"I was performing my duty to the realm!" He shouted as he slammed his hands on the table. "Making sure the throne passed to the rightful successor, which is not you! You have no claim to the throne!"
Joffrey's expression remained completely relaxed and impassive, not reacting in the slightest despite the northern lord's shouts.
"Why, because Robert Baratheon isn't my real father?" He asked calmly.
Ned became stunned silent hearing the young man's words, his mouth hanging open slightly. Seeing the stunned lord's expression, Joffrey continued.
"I'm young, Lord Stark, not stupid. I saw how my mother and "uncle" looked at each other; pretty disgusting, I must say."
Joffrey actually grimaced with disgust as he thought about the incestuous relationship between the Lannister twins. As the young king took another sip from his chalice, the former Hand suddenly found his words again.
"If you know the truth, then you must do the right thing, Joffrey," he said, his words filled with duty and self-righteousness.
"And that would be?"
"You must abdicate the throne for Robert's rightful heir, his younger brother Stannis."
At Lord Stark's words, Joffrey began laughing out loud.
"Stannis? Are you being serious?"
"He's Robert's oldest brother," he shouted, becoming incensed again. "The throne is his by right!"
Joffrey never stopped laughing despite the lord's words. After calming himself, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye before he responded.
"You know, you highborns never cease to amuse me with your logic," he said, still chuckling. "That because you were born to a certain family at a certain time, you believe that makes you entitled to something. As if the world itself should cater to your every whim because of your "Bloodrights"."
Truthfully, even when he was still back on Earth, he had come across the exact same sort of entitlement and narcissism, even when he enrolled in the West Point Military Academy. He still remembered it like it was yesterday when he managed to get into one of the most prestigious military schools in the United States, expecting to finally be surrounded by exceptional, like-minded peers. Unfortunately, the only thing that awaited him was complete disappointment.
Where he had expected to find hard-working young adults striving to achieve something great with their lives, instead he found lazy, unmotivated, privileged rich kids. Who had only gotten into the academy due to family connections and treated it like some kind of summer golf club. They even had the audacity to look down on him because of his "low birth" and would go out of their way to antagonize him.
Joffrey clenched his fist so tightly his knuckles popped and turned white as he remembered all of the disdainful looks and laughing faces from his graduating class. Ned Stark looked confused by the sudden shift in body posture and the clear rage the young king felt, until he took a deep breath and calmed himself, slowly unclenching his fist.
"As I was saying, I don't recognize "Bloodrights" as a legitimate justification for someone to rule or lead. I believe that the best person should be given the responsibility, despite his or her place in the line of succession."
"...And you believe that to be you?" He replied condescendingly.
"Believe me, I'm not my first choice either," he responded, shaking his head. "But if you're asking if I think I'll be a better ruler than that lobster Stannis, then yes."
Ned Stark was completely flabbergasted both by the young man's strange way of thinking, and his utter confidence in his future rule. Refusing to allow the false king to muddle the beliefs that he had followed most of his life, he quickly formed a retort.
"Stannis is a commander," he responded resolutely. "He's led men into war, not once but twice!"
"Indeed," Joffrey agreed immediately. "He's a tried and tested battle commander, but again my question to you is so what?"
Eddard became silent as Joffrey continued.
"He's good at leading men into battle, sure, but does that mean he would be a proper ruler?" He asked rhetorically. "I think we both know the answer to that after the last king, which is no."
Sensing where the conversation was heading, Eddard became tense.
"Robert Baratheon was one of the greatest military leaders ever produced in Westeros, leading countless victories and winning not just one war but two. Now tell me, Lord Stark, how good of a king did his military prowess make him?"
"..." Ned didn't respond, remaining silent.
"The answer is terrible," he said, ignoring the northern lord's growing anger. "He was a fool and a drunk, and has practically bankrupted the Realm with his frivolous spending. Allowing his citizens to starve and live in squalor, as he ate his feasts and fucked his whores."
"Careful, Joffrey," Ned responded, his tone barely holding back his growing anger.
"The most responsible and kingly thing he ever did was making sure he stepped into an early grave."
At his words, Lord Eddard finally lost his temper and quickly shot to his feet as Joffrey did the same. He then reached down with his cuffed hands and tossed the small wooden table out of the way and charged at the young king.
Reaching out with both hands aimed for the king's throat, the Quiet Wolf became shocked as Joffrey wrapped his arm around both of his and then turned, tossing the northern lord over his hip and slamming him onto his back and onto the floor. The king quickly followed up by driving his left knee into his gut and held it there, pinning him to the ground. Then, with a slow and deliberate movement, he reached down and drew the Valyrian steel dagger from his belt and placed the blade at the pinned lord's throat.
"Calm yourself, Lord Stark," he said stoically as he held the blade an inch from his jugular.
Ned didn't look frightened and simply stared up at the king with a challenging look, as if daring him to do it. Seeing the silent challenge, Joffrey nearly scoffed.
"If I wanted to kill you, do you really think I would have gone through that whole theater earlier?"
"..."
Ned didn't respond, and seeing his silence, Joffrey slowly stepped back and sheathed his dagger back into his belt.
"But you're right, perhaps I went a little too far there," he said apologetically as guards rushed into the room. "Ned Stark seems to have fallen and knocked over the table," he called out to them.
The four Lannister soldiers immediately moved inside; two helped the northern lord back onto his feet, while the other two fixed the table and chairs. After they finished, they stood at attention awaiting the king's orders.
"Get out," he ordered.
Hearing his command, the four guards bowed their heads and immediately exited the chamber. Joffrey then stepped forward, pulling his chair out and sitting back down.
"Please sit down; we still have much to discuss." He gestured to the empty seat across from him.
Ned slowly and reluctantly took the seat across from him. An awkward air of silence hung in the air between the two who seemed unsure how to continue after the Quiet Wolf's violent outburst.
"What do you want?" he asked again, his tone cold and bitter.
"For us to talk," he replied immediately, unbothered by the lord's attitude.
"About what exactly?"
"Well, the future to be exact, because all of us are in mortal danger, and I need your help to stop it."
Ned looked completely confused by the sudden change in demeanor as the boy king spoke with clear fear in his voice.
"Do you believe in the gods, Lord Stark?"
"Of course, I do."
"Then you must also believe in the old ways as well?"
"I suppose so, why?"
"Because, my lord, I'm a greenseer, and I've seen what is to come."
Eddard stared at the young king as though he were looking at a completely mad man. Seeing the ridiculous gaze, Joffrey pressed on and continued.
"Yeah, I know how it makes me sound," he said, chuckling a little. "Like a complete fool who's wet nurse dropped him on his head, but I assure you it's very much the truth. I myself thought they were nothing but dreams, until they started to come true."
"...Like what?" he asked hesitantly.
"Like the Hand Jon Arryn's death. Or perhaps your son Bran falling from that tower."
Ned almost wanted to scoff at the false king's words.
"You expect me to take this seriously?"
"As seriously as that letter you got from your wife's sister blaming my family for Lord Arryn's death."
At his reply, Ned immediately became more serious; after all, only Catelyn and Maester Luwin had seen or heard the contents of that letter, and he couldn't imagine either one of them betraying his trust.
"How do you know about that?"
"As I told you before, I have dreams, and the dreams keep coming true, but it's not the dreams of the past that concern me; it's the dream of what's to come that's keeping me awake at night."
"Then tell me, what's this future vision of yours that has you so frightened?"
"Death, Lord Stark," he said in a dead serious tone as he looked the lord in the eye. "The Long Night is upon us, and death comes with it. A cold and shadowy storm that shall envelop the realms of men. What that Ranger from Castle Black told you was the truth, my lord. The White Walkers have returned."
Eddard's eyes widened with shock hearing the boy king's speech and the clear fear in which it was said. After calming his nerves a bit, the northern lord finally spoke.
"The White Walkers have been gone for thousands of years," he said confidently.
"No, they haven't," Joffrey shook his head in disagreement. "They went into hiding, replenishing their ranks, and have been biding their time. But they're not waiting any longer."
Eddard wanted to laugh and tell the fake little king to stop putting so much stock into fairy tales his wet nurse told him as a boy. But something in the boy's voice and body language told him he should at least hear him out.
"If what you're saying is true, what would you have me do?"
"For starters, I'd have you convince your son and his twenty thousand men to stand down."
"Robb?" he asked, attempting to act surprised.
"Don't play games with me, Lord Stark. I know the spider came to visit you in the Black Cells."
The old lord's face didn't betray any of his emotions despite his astonishment at the King's knowledge.
"I need you to convince him to stand his armies down; we're going to need every man we can get," he continued without missing a beat. "He'll assume his rightful place as the new Warden of the North, and you, Lord Eddard, will journey to the Night's Watch and help them prepare."
"And what would you be doing exactly?" his voice was still skeptical.
"I shall remain down here and end the war that you've helped start," he replied, annoyed by the lord's continued distrust. "Once that's finished, I will unite the other six kingdoms, and when the time comes, we shall all march north and face the coming storm together."
"You're asking me to sacrifice my honor and my duty to the Realm because of your fear of a child's bedtime story?!"
"No! I'm asking you to set aside your honor and sense of duty for something greater than yourself, just like you did before."
"What in the name of the Seven are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the promise you made to your sister on her deathbed when you saved her child from that tower all those years ago."
At the king's words, Ned Stark shot to his feet, his eyes wide and face filled with a mixture of emotions. Emotions such as anger, fear, but mostly disbelief.
"How! How do you learn about that?!" he shouted, his eyes still wide with shock.
"Are you finally starting to believe me now, my lord?" He asked rhetorically to the still stunned wolf. "Good, because we have much to discuss, and very little time to do it."
He then gestured for him to retake his seat, which he slowly did, looking at the king in a whole new light. Joffrey then took the wine pitcher and poured a new glass for himself and the still shaken wolf, whose hand had a slight tremor. Looking satisfied as the northern lord finally took a sip for the first time since he came in, the two of them finally got down to business and discussed several matters that would reshape the world as everyone knew it.
o-O-o
After a rather long discussion that had taken up much of the afternoon, Joffrey had finally managed to convince the old wolf of the imminent danger they all faced. Once they finished talking, the king sent the former Hand back to his old chambers in the Tower of the Hand rather than one of the lower cells. Though he and both of his daughters were kept under guard twenty-four hours a day and kept separate from each other, just in case any of them got any dumb ideas, which the Starks were frankly known for.
Sitting in his new Solar, Joffrey was currently in the middle of a discussion with Yoren, a member of the Night's Watch. From what the king could remember from the original storyline, he was the one who had saved Arya from the Gold Cloaks, but ultimately died protecting her and Gendry from the Lannisters. But now all of that would change.
"So they say you traveled from the Wall with my uncle, is that true?"
"Aye," he nodded. "Funny little bugger, your imp uncle. Though thanks to him, I had the best trip down to this city that I've had in years."
Joffrey chuckled hearing the older man's words. No doubt Tyrion had been getting them both into all sorts of shenanigans when no one was looking.
"I'm glad to hear it," he said, still chuckling slightly. "Though they also told me that you were there when Lady Stark took my uncle captive."
"Aye," he responded, getting a little more on edge. "Us brothers of the Night's Watch take no part in the conflicts between the Great Houses."
"Oh, please don't misunderstand me, I'm not blaming you for my uncle's capture," he waved off dismissively. "Those responsible for those events have already been dealt with." His mind trailed back to the craven knight he had tossed off a cliff.
"Then pardon my frankness, Your Grace, but what do you want exactly?"
"I was wondering if you had the list I requested Benjen Stark give my uncle when he left the Wall?"
"Oh, that." He said as if remembering something important.
Yoren then reached inside of his coat and pulled out a large rolled-up parchment and handed it to the king. After unrolling the piece of paper, Joffrey read the many logistical issues that the current Night's Watch was facing. Apparently, the Watch had fallen into disrepute under his father's reign, and had largely been ignored by the crown despite their many letters and pleas.
The largest and most pressing issue by far was how undermanned they were. Where the old order had over nineteen castles, only three were currently being used. And where they used to have over ten thousand men to safeguard the realms of the Seven Kingdoms, they now had less than a thousand, and even they were mostly criminals seeking to escape punishment.
Besides the shortage of able-bodied men, they also ran into maintenance and construction issues. With many of the castles, even if they could be used, being undefendable due to their lack of upkeep. As Joffrey read over the many operational issues the current brotherhood was facing, Yoren started to become restless from the prolonged silence.
"Um, Your Grace," he finally said, making Joffrey look up from the large parchment. "Was there something else you need from me besides the list?"
"Oh, yes actually," Joffrey reached inside his desk drawer and pulled out two small rolled-up scrolls, each bearing his stamp. "These are for you for your journey back to the Wall."
Yoren looked down at the scrolls with a hint of curiosity as Joffrey picked up the one on the left.
"This one is for your Lord Commander Mormont," he said as he handed the Night's Watch brother the scroll. "It's only to be seen by him and no one else – not his steward, not the captain of the guard, or even the maester. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he responded as he reached out and took the scroll from his hand and placed it inside his coat. "And what about that one?" he asked, gesturing to the other scroll on his desk.
"Ah, yes," Joffrey then picked up the other scroll and offered it to the older man. "This one's for you and any potential recruits you've managed to find in my dungeons."
Yoren slowly reached down and took the scroll into his hand, rotating it between his hands as he examined it.
"What is it?"
"Protection," he responded flatly. "These are dangerous times, Yoren, and a five-way war is currently underway. That scroll that displays my seal is a letter of protection for you and all those traveling with you to the north. It's mostly just in case you come across any stab-happy Lannister soldiers on your trip on the King's Road."
Yoren's eyes widened slightly at the king's consideration, remembering how well his fellow brother Benjen had spoken of the young prince.
"Thank you, Your Grace," he said with clear appreciation in his voice.
"Don't worry about it, and it wouldn't do anyone any good if you get yourself killed before you can deliver my message," he said nonchalantly, making the older Crow laugh.
"I can see why Benjen spoke so highly of you, Your Grace," he said, still laughing.
"Yes, well, when he learns that I've taken his older brother prisoner for treason, I'm sure his tune will change."
The Crow still laughed and happily accepted the drink offered by the King.
"Yeah, you see, that's why I enjoy being in the Watch," he said, taking a gulp from his cup. "We don't have to worry about any of that backstabbing shite that you southern lords have to worry about."
"No, you just have to worry about not freezing your cock off in the middle of the night," Joffrey retorted, laughing slightly, having come to enjoy the older man's frank nature.
Yoren just shrugged his shoulders hearing the king's words. "Everywhere has some kind of problem."
o-O-o
As the odd pair continued their discussion elsewhere inside the Red Keep, a certain queen was learning some rather distressing news.
"How can this be!" Cersei shouted as she held a raven's letter in her hand. "How could that fool allow himself to be captured by a mere boy!"
Tywin had apparently sent word that Jaime had been captured by Robb Stark in a surprise attack, and his army had been left scattered and leaderless. She wanted to scream to the seven above why her twin had been taken from her, especially now when everything was just starting to go her way. Hearing her anguish and rage, an unseen figure slowly approached from behind her.
"What is it?" the male voice asked as he slowly approached behind the queen mother. "Have we captured Robb Stark? What's our next move?"
It was Cersei's cousin Lancel, who until recently had only been the king's squire before he was knighted. After he had completed his mission in the forest by getting rid of Robert Baratheon, and with Jaime fleeing the city and laying waste to the Riverlands, Cersei had decided to take him into her bed. Though in all honesty, she saw him as little more than a toy and a nice distraction.
"Stop talking," she replied, cutting the enthusiastic youth off. "Get back into bed."
Cersei then crumpled up the piece of parchment before tossing it across the room in annoyance. She then turned her attention back to her new toy and slowly unfastened the strings of her green nightgown before letting it pool onto the floor, her breasts bouncing slightly from the sudden movement, having been freed from their confines. Her pink nipples hardened from either the cool night air or the sudden erotic situation. Then, with slow, deliberate steps, she approached the slack-jawed youth, who still couldn't believe he was able to bed such a beauty.
Stopping an arm's length from her cousin, she slowly placed her hand onto the young man's chest and gently pushed him back onto the feathered mattress. Then, like a lioness on the prowl, she climbed on top of him. Placing her left hand on his chest to steady herself, the queen mother reached down with her right hand and seized the boy by his cock.
"Ah," the boy moaned as the queen's delicate fingers wrapped around his cock and guided it to her shaven slit.
The sounds of creaking filled the otherwise empty chamber as the queen rode the former squire, her hips swaying and rolling with years of experience. Lancel continued to moan in pleasure as he was led around by his second head, while the queen herself took pleasure out of dominating and controlling the naive and impressionable young knight.
As the pair continued their horizontal dance and became enraptured in pleasure, one of the walls in the queen's study slowly opened, and in walked a cloaked figure. Remaining unseen, the figure slowly made her way to the discarded piece of paper, picking it up before swiftly returning to the wall after catching a glimpse of the queen with her cousin. As the figure entered the wall, the secret passage closed behind them silently.
Now alone in the hidden corridor, the hidden figure pulled back her hood to reveal the queen's own handmaiden, Senelle. Silently reading the piece of parchment, Senelle smiled to herself before she placed the paper into her bosom. Then with quiet steps, Senelle made her way down the hidden passageway and toward the king's new Solar.
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