The Young Lion

Act 1 Ch 8 An Old Stag’s Death

After his little heartfelt moment with Sansa, Joffrey would head back to his chambers to continue with his designs. On his way that's when he would learn some of the gossip that had been floating around the castle. Apparently Catelyn Stark had seized his uncle and was holding him captive in the Vale. In response his grandfather had let loose the mad dog the Mountain to burn Tully villages.Then while his “father” was away on a hunting trip for some famous stag, Ned Stark detainted the mad dog and ordered his grandfather to court.

“He really is as big a fool as I thought.” Joffrey thought as he walked to his chambers.

He couldn’t understand what could drive someone to do something so obviously stupid.

“Well it doesn’t matter.” He shrugged since everything is going according to the plot he knew and what tomorrow would bring.

After returning to his chambers he got fresh parchment and a new quill and worked late into the night on new designs. Only after he was late into the night and a fresh bath did he turn in for the evening.

[The next day]

As the sun rose Joffrey rose with it, he completed his morning training regimen of jogging, push ups, pull ups, squats, and planks. Once he finished he took his usual morning bath and had breakfast with his family. Once the familial pleasantries were done he made his way to his room to continue with his designs. He worked late into the day when the royal Steward knocked on his door. 

“My prince you must come with me!” He said with clear urgency in his voice.

“What has happened?” He asked, feigning confusion. 

“It's the king, there was an accident on the stag hunt. You must come with me!”

“I understand.” He put down his quill and got up to follow the servant.

They made haste to the king's private chambers where he found a number of individuals in the room. There were ones he knew, grand maester Pycelle, his mother Cersei, the king's guard ser Barristan, and his “uncle” Renly Baratheon. He was a tall strong looking man, he had a clean shaven face.As he walked further into the room he found his “father” on the bed wheezing in pain. 

“Come here boy.” He said weakly waving him over.

Joffrey walked slowly to the large man that took up most of the bed. His torso was wrapped in gauze and his brow was heavy with sweat. As he drew closer he took the extended large hand and sat beside him at his bed. Robert looked upon his son with a weak gaze.

“I’m sorry Joffrey.” He said weakly as his boy held his hand. “I should have spent more time with you. Taught you how to be a real man.” He said coughing.

Joffrey internally scoffed at his words.

“I guess a real man is someone who drinks from when the sun rises to when it sets. That cheats on his wife with cheap whores, or focuses on hunting a stag when his country was on the verge of war. Yeah that's a real man for you.``

“I know, father.” He actually said keeping his inner spite hidden.

“I know I wasn’t any good at it, I was never meant to be a father.” He said, pulling his hand away from his son.

That's when another man entered the room. He had a long face and long brown hair, he wore boiled leather armor and was walking with a cane. 

“Ned,” the dying king called out.

“Go on boy, you don’t want to see this.” He said weakly.

Joffrey promptly stood up, his face filled with anger and grief. He turned to leave the room but not before locking eyes with Ned Stark. The middle aged man’s eyes were filled with both sorrow and disdain when he looked at him. After which Joffrey left the room filled with the small council. 

As he made his way down the stone hallway his grief filled face changed to an expressionless still one. He only thought one thing as he went back to his chambers. 

“He knows.”

After getting back to his personal quarters he ordered the servants not to disturb him. He then promptly sat back down at his desk and resumed his design plans. It became late into the evening when someone paid him a visit.

A knock was heard at his door.

“May I come in.” He recognized the voice belonging to his mother.

“Just a moment.” Joffrey quickly hid his designs under some ledgers.

Cersei then made her way into his room and came before her son. She was surprised by his calm attitude, all the pain and grief from before was gone.  She looked over at her eldest boy trying to discern what he was thinking about. Before she could tell at a glance what he was thinking, but recently he had been a complete mystery to her. 

Her spies had told her that he had visited some famous commoner smith on the Street of Steel recently, and had talked for a length of time. He then paid for an expensive sapphire necklace for the Northern girl. Although she told him to do something nice she wasn’t expecting a royal grade necklace let alone a lion cub, for some silly child squabble. She was growing more and more concerned that the boy she raised was slipping away from her.

“What brings you here at this hour mother?” He asked politely.

“Your father has died.” She said very calmly with a still face not a trace of grief in her voice.

“I see.” He responded with an expressionless face. “So now I will be king.”

“Yes my dear now you will be king.” She said with a slight smile.

“How long before my coronation?” 

“We can begin the preparations tomorrow after speaking with the small council.”

“Good, I think it's wise if we mobilize our guards as well.” He said calmly.

Cersei raised a brow at her son’s statement.

“Oh, why is that?” she asked curiously.

Joffrey looked at his mother as if she had two heads, and acted like she didn’t know the situation they were in.

“I’m certain that there will be those who will oppose my ascension finding themselves more worthy. A certain boy lover and northern fool comes to mind.” He said looking his mother in the eye.

Cersei looked at him with surprise. She knew he was well aware of the tension growing between them and the Starks, but he also thought about his uncle trying to take his birthright as well. She prided herself having raised a boy with key situational awareness. 

“You are absolutely right my son, there are those who are conspiring to keep what's rightfully yours away from you, and some sleep beneath this very roof. Thankfully your mother has already predicted this and our men are being armed and armored at this very moment.”

She puffed her chest with pride at her foresight. Joffrey had a hard time not scoffing at this woman's delusional view of herself. 

“She really sees herself as clever huh.” He thought.

“Send for more in the morning just to be safe.” He actually said as he turned to read one of his books he took from the library.

Cersei looked over her son with curiosity. She couldn’t see a hint of sadness or anger that he displayed before. She had come to his room tonight to console him, but it seemed to be completely unnecessary. 

“Are you not the least sad about the death of your father? He was killed after all?” She asked.

Joffrey turned around to face her again, he raised his brow and looked as if he had heard the dumbest question.

“What father would that be exactly?” He said his voice was dripping with a bit of venom.

Cersei was taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. 

“A father who’d rather hunt stags than help his people? A father that rather drink  from dawn till dusk rather than make legislation? A father that rather fuck whores then hear of inventions that could change the world?” He said looking his mother in the eye.

“He was an oaf and a drunk who has nearly bankrupted the realm with his stupid feasts and tourneys. The only emotional tie I had to that man was the one I wanted to wrap around his neck.” He said coldly

Cersei was a little shocked by her son's coldness; she herself never liked Robert and had prayed to the gods to be free of him. Though she always assumed that her son at least loved him. But now looking into her son's cold green eyes that were as still as a serene lake she could tell he didn’t feel anything but indifference to him. Those cold green predator-like eyes sent a shiver down her spine, like he could see right through her.

“I understand.” she said shaken.

“Good now, please leave me in peace. I have much to prepare before tomorrow comes.” He said, turning back to his parchments. 

“As you wish.” she said before exiting his room. 

After she left Joffrey put his quill back down rubbing his temple as he felt a headache coming on. 

“Tomorrow the old wolf will try to orchestrate a coup, to put his “uncle” Stannis on the throne.” Though he already knew how this little conspiracy would play out he had to make some slight adjustments to the operation. Come tomorrow the first of the dominoes will fall then all the pieces will begin to fall into place.

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