Hers Is The Fury

Pre Wedding Banquet & Purple Wedding

[King's Landing - Red Keep, Outside]

Later that day, in the gardens, a pre wedding banquet was being held of Joffrey and Margaery's wedding, which was finally able to move forward.

Morgana, Sansa, Tyrion, Joffrey, Tywin, Cersei, Tommen, and Pycelle sat at an outdoor banquet table.

Mace Tyrell stood before them.

"From House Tyrell and the people of the Reach, Your Grace, it is my honor to present you with this wedding cup." He placed the cup, a large golden goblet, before Joffrey. "May you and my daughter Margaery drink deep and live long."

"A handsome goblet, my lord. Or shall I call you Father?"

"I shall be honored, Your Grace." Mace bowed and walked away. Shae brought a tray to the table and set it before Sansa.

"She's the whore I told you about. The dark-haired one." Cersei told her father as Shae walked away.

"Have her brought to the Tower of the Hand before the wedding."

Tyrion appeared concerned and met the eye of his niece who looked equally worried upon overhearing this. Podrick placed a large tome before Joffrey and Tyrion walked around to the front of the table.

"A book?" Joffrey said, not even trying to hide his disappointment.

"The Lives of Four Kings." Grand Maester Kaeth's history of the reigns of Daeron the Young Dragon, Baelor the Blessed, Aegon the Unworthy, and Daeron the Good. A book every king should read."

Joffrey was at a loss for words until his grandfather encouraged him to respond.

"Now that the war is won, we should all find time for wisdom. Thank you, Uncle."

Tyrion bowed before returning to his seat.

The Mountain brought forth a sword and laid it on the table before Joffrey, Morgana glaring at the disgraceful excuse of a knight.

Tywin stood. "One of only two Valyrian steel swords in the capital, Your Grace, freshly forged in your honour."

Joffrey walked around the table. Exuberantly, he unsheathed the sword.

"Careful, Your Grace. Nothing cuts like Valyrian steel." Pycelle said.

"So they say." Joffrey stepped away, then spun and cleaved the book that Tyrion just gave him, repeatedly. People gasped in response as Joffrey looked very pleased with himself. "Such a great sword should have a name. What shall I call her?"

Men began shouting out suggestions.

"Stormbringer."

"Terminus."

"Widow's Wail."

"Wolfsbane."

"Widow's Wail. I like that. It's fitting, isn't it sister?"

Unfortunately for him, Morgana found herself lost in thought.

Her mind wandered far from the grand halls of King's Landing and the lavish feast spread before her, instead fixating on the distant free city of Volantis where her true love, Robb Stark, was waiting for her.

She imagined him holding their children in his strong arms, teaching them the ways of the North and the honour of being a Stark.

"Every time I use it, it will be like cutting off Ned Stark's head." Joffrey sheathed the sword and Sansa looked dejected while Shae watched on.

Joffrey returned to his seat by Margaery and her father.

"You really ought to stop provoking him," Loras whispered.