Cyvassemaxxing (Joffrey SI) (Patreon)

A/N: I'm posting some snippets in patreon first, because... I kinda like you guys.

My disappointment is immeasurable

Robert is dead.

His brother in all but name, died and all he left was a letter naming Ned Protector of the Realm.

The walk to the throne room felt endless, much more so with his leg throbbing in pain with each step. He hadn’t seen any Lannister crimson on his way, and that fact left a muted voice in the back of his mind that grew louder with each step he took. He gave the men in tow a final look. The Small Council right behind him and, with them, his guardsmen and the gold cloaks.

Janos Slynt met them at the door of the throne room. His men pushed the great door open.

He limped his way to the Iron Throne, currently unoccupied. The five remaining knights of the Kingsguard were fully armored at the base of the throne. Cersei Lannister and her two youngest stood behind Ser Meryn and Ser Boros. Behind the throne, thirty Lannister guardsmen were at attention.

It would’ve been a daunting sight, if not for Littlefinger keeping his promise and bringing two hundred gold cloaks to the throne.

The only consideration that was casting doubt upon his next actions, was Joffrey. He didn’t know where the odd boy was. In fact, he was fairly certain, not even Cersei knew. Why else wouldn’t he be here in the throne?

If there was one virtue the boy had, was how clever he was. Perchance Cersei told him of their conversation and the boy took him upon the offer?

Ned couldn’t be certain. The boy was too unpredictable for him to know where he was and in the end, it didn’t matter. They would find the boy in time, but now, Ned had a duty to uphold.

Ned produced Robert’s letter. “Lord Varys, be so kind as to show this to my lady of Lannister.”

The eunuch carried the letter to Cersei. The queen glanced at the words. “Protector of the Realm,” she read. “Is this meant to be your shield, my lord? A piece of paper?” She shredded the letter and let the pieced fall to the floor.

“Those were the king’s words,” Ser Barristan said, shocked.

“We have a new king now,” Cersei replied. “Lord Eddard, Joffrey is wise and knows to pardon a slight. Bend the knee and swear fealty to my son, and we shall allow you to step down as Hand and leave for that frosted wasteland of yours.”

If she was going to force his hand, then he was left with no choice. “Your son has no claim to the throne. Lord Stannis is Robert’s true heir.” He called out to Janos Slynt. “Commander, take the queen and the children into custody.”

“Men of the Watch!” Janos Slynt’s voice thundered in the room. His two hundred gold cloaks leveled their spears and closed.

Ned saw Cersei’s children recoil and hug each other behind their mother. “Stand down, there’s no need for bloodshed. Tell your men to—”

A gold cloak drove his spear into Tomard’s back. Janos Slynt himself slashed Varly’s throat. Cayn reacted fast and drew his sword and cut down a gold cloak before two spears killed him.

His men died around him, Littlefinger slid Ned’s dagger from its sheath and shoved up his chin. His smile was apologetic. “I did warn you not to—”

“FUCKING HELL!” a new voice cut through the throne room. “Gods forbid a prince has a fucking cyvasse tournament in peace!”

Joffrey sauntered his way into the throne room.

Summary at the bottom, because of course:

“‘Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin’ Can that apply to… you know?”

“Who dear brother? You’ll have to be more explicit,” Tyrion said with a smirk.

“Others take you! Joffrey, I mean Joffrey.”

“Why would the gods flip a coin for him, I wonder.”

Deadpan.

“Aight, fine. Stupid question.”

In which Joffrey has a different kind of madness.