The Young Lion

Act 1 Ch 5 A Trip Into Town

[The few days passed]

Off the shores of Blackwater bay, surrounded by the deep Kingswood, lies the capital city of the continent of Westeros. A large city which was the heart of both trade and corruption. As the light of dawn shone down on the peaceful city, the rooster's cries awoke the commoners to another day of hard work.

Though the nobility tended to sleep in longer than the common folk in which the lord over, one young prince had risen simultaneously as the peasants to get in his morning training. If Joffrey wished to overcome years of physical neglect, then he would have to work twice as hard, and so he did.

The night before, he had finished his designs for strength equipment to assist in his daily regime. Today was the day he would ride into town and discuss their creation with a certain blacksmith.  Though he knew it would be sometime before the equipment creation due to the limited technology of the age. Nevertheless, he did what he could with the limited resources he had.

After another morning of intense training, Joffrey found himself bathing again; his bathing habits were starting to become the talk of the castle, sparking the servants' curiosity. He would bathe once in the morning after his exercise routine and once in the afternoon before going to sleep. He was trying to persuade his family to adopt his new habits, but aside from his younger siblings no one listened to him. 

Nevertheless he had commanded all the staff to wash their hands every time they used the restroom or engaged in an activity which dirty one's hands. He became particularly known when he sacked a cook when he found him disobeying his orders. Though his family were confused by their son's sudden obsession with cleanliness, they didn’t bother with interfering.

His younger siblings modeled their behavior after their brothers. They began frequently washing their hands and each took a bath before bed. This made Joffrey exceedingly happy, as the likelihood of his siblings catching a serious illness was significantly lower if they practiced proper hygiene.

The more he thought on it the more he knew he would have to construct a public bath for the commoners as well as the nobility. It would take some time before he could bring such ideas to forwishen, but on the long road of industry time was the one thing he had plenty of. When he considered his world's time period he thought the Romans were clearly ahead of the medieval era in terms of proper hygiene.

After finishing his first bath of the day, Joffrey began styling his hair the best he could. He was letting it grow out and currently lacked any hair styling products such as pomade. Which in his previous life he had used extensively to slick his hair back. He found it to be a very pristine look befitting an officer in the military. He thought it would be even more befitting for a young prince. For now, he made it into a side part with his brush. When he went into town today he would be sure to purchase some lard, which was the main ingredient in pomade.

After styling his hair and dressing in a fashionable outfit currently in style, he set forth for the castle’s dining hall. Truthfully he didn’t much care for the current fashion trends of the age, he’d much prefer the 16th century fashion sense, specifically the Tudors of England. So on his ever growing list of future endeavors he would be introducing proper culture. For now he would endure the trappings of a 15th century noble. 

After arriving at the dining hall he found his family already seated and eating. After arriving at the table he sat next to his younger brother and sister who appeared to be slightly less afraid of him. He was personally glad to be making strides on his familial relationships. He knew what most of the residents in the red keep let alone kings landing thought of him.

A monster, a spoiled brat, a sadistic little shit, etc. He couldn’t blame them since the real Joffrey fit all those descriptions and more, So He would have to work hard in winning over the noble houses to his side before the war. Which would inevitably come thanks to a certain honorable fool going around asking questions.

However, his current focus was winning the hearts of the people to his side. He was certain with his plans to advance agriculture and industry, the people would never want him replaced as their monarch. While most nobles looked down on the commoners as if they were mere slaves incapable of going against their masters. Joffrey had the memories of Adrian, and the world history of Adrian’s world showed the wrath of the common folk that all rulers should fear.

Joffrey's younger siblings looked at him with slight caution in their eyes. Ever since he had that massive head pain he had been acting differently. Though they were happy that he wasn’t abusive or cruel towards them anymore, they couldn't help but be slightly frightened of him. They thought that maybe an evil spirit had taken over his body or another scary creature their septa told them about. Yet despite this they still obeyed his every suggestion. After all he was the future king so he probably knew something they didn’t.

As the family ate their meal, Joffrey broke the silence; he wanted some of his family guards for his trip into town.

“Mother, can I borrow four of our men for this afternoon?” He asked as he ate pork sausage.

Cersei looked up at her son surprised by his request.

“Why do you need four guards, isn't your sworn shield enough?” She was referring to the hound who had protected Joffrey since he was a boy.

“I’ll be bringing him as well, but the streets are currently unsafe due to the hands tourney.” He responded before taking a drink of his milk.

Cersei knew her son was right; currently the city watch was stretched thin with all the crimes occurring. Ned Stark had to lend some of his house guards just to keep some of the king’s peace.

“Then do pray tell, why are you heading into the city my son?” She asked with an inquisitive look.

Her little boy had been acting strange lately ever since that servant had brought her to her son’s chambers. One of her spies told her he now got up at the crack of dawn, and would exercise extensively before taking a long bath. Another told her how he had been locking himself in the royal library, having his meals delivered to him as he studied multiple books, for hours on end. None of this was the Joffrey she knew and loved and was starting to grow concerned that there was something truly wrong with him.

“I just want to walk among my future subjects.” He said with a smug grin. “To let the filth bask in the visage of their future king.” He said arrogantly.

“Oh, I see.” She said, smiling, her fears subsiding. “In that case you can have six men just to be safe.” She said with a proud mother’s smile.

“Thank you mother.” He said, giving her a loving smile as he got up from his seat.

Once his back was to his family his smile turned into a stoic emotionless expression.

“Dumb sow.” He thought as he made his way down the hallway. He decided to keep up his facade as a spoiled prince to give his enemies a false sense of security until he was ready. 

After retrieving his designs and a dagger from his chambers he made his way to the courtyard. There he found six of his house guards armed and armored. They wore red cloaks, with mail shirts over boiled leather and steel caps with lion crests. Among the guards a giant man pulling the prince’s horse up approached.

He wore an olive green cloak over plain battle scarred armor and in his hand he held a distinctive hound shaped helm. He had dark gray eyes, his nose was large and hooked, and long hair dark and thin. Though his most distinctive trait was his face which was ruined with burn scars down half all the way to his throat. His hair was brushed in a vain attempt to cover his deformities.

It was his sworn shield, Sandor Clegane the hound.

“Your steed my prince.” He said with a low deep voice.

“Thank you Sandor.” He said politely before mounting his steed while Sandor held it.

The hound raised his brow in surprise at the prince's polite attitude. He had gotten accustomed to the spoiled little shit calling him dog. He had heard that the prince’s attitude had changed but he considered it nothing but rumors till that point.

After the hound and the Lannister guards had mounted their horses, and formed a square formation around the crowned prince did the hound ask.

“Where are we heading, my prince?” Sandor asked as his horse stood next to Joffrey’s in the formation.

“First I would like to pay a visit to a certain blacksmith on the Street of Steel.” He said, giving the hound a confident smirk.

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