❝ You and I against the world, my love. Let us bring it to it's knees. ❞
Even the gods were not able to defeat Lyra Stark and Joffrey Baratheon, for once they put their minds to a cause, the gods were forced to step aside and let them past.
QUEENS...
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{ Joffrey }
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𝕵offrey stared at the door in front of him with contempt, not wanting to take another step inside the room beyond. He knew that Tyrion Lannister was sitting on the other side, with his sellsword, Bronn, and that alone made him annoyed. The fact that he could smell wine only amplified that feeling.
He moved to turn away, but stopped as he thought of Lyra's words from that morning. She had reminded him that with Stannis attacking the city imminently, Joffrey needed to momentarily put aside his differences with Tyrion to protect Kings Landing's occupants. With that thought in his mind, Joffrey reluctantly turned back around and knocked on the door.
The door was pulled open by the sellsword, who looked at him in surprise. Joffrey quirked an eyebrow, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did for a moment, so the king took the time to break the silence.
"Bronn," The sellsword nodded at the king.
"Your Grace," Bronn pulled the door open further, allowing the pair to step into the room. Tyrion's head had shot up at the sight of his nephew, who looked as if he would rather be anywhere else than this room.
"To what do I owe this visit, nephew," Joffrey tensed up, before sitting down in the chair opposite Tyrion and trying his best not to snarl in annoyance at the smell of wine that was prevalent in the room. He hated the drink.
"I thought that I should talk to you about the preparations that we're making for Stannis' fleet arriving," Tyrion nodded, still looking shocked as Joffrey raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.
"We can talk about..." There was a pause as a knock came at the door, and Varys swept in. If he was surprised to see Joffrey in the room, he didn't show it. Instead the man bowed, and began to speak.
"Your Grace, my Lord Hand, Commander," The trio of men already in the room nodded, waiting for Varys to continue to speak. "I must compliment you on the gold cloaks' performance these last few weeks. Did you know there has been a marked drop in thievery?"
"I did not know," Tyrion looked over at Bronn with a raised eyebrow, as he poured himself another glass of wine. Joffrey wrinkled his nose. "And how did you accomplish this marked drop in thievery?"
"Me and the lads rounded up all the known thieves,"
"For questioning?" Tyrion asked, narrowing his eyes.
"No. It's just the unknown thieves we need to worry about now," Tyrion sighed as Joffrey raised an eyebrow at the unorthodox methods of the recently promoted Commander of the City Guard.
"We talked about this," Tyrion replied.
"Aye, we talked about it. Have you ever been in a city under siege? Maybe this part's not in your books," Bronn nodded his head towards the books. "See, it's not the fighting that kills most people. It's the starving. Food's worth more than gold. Noble ladies sell their diamonds for a sack of potatoes. Things get bad enough, the poor start eating each other."
Joffrey licked his lips, sighing once more as he thought of the other jobs that he could be doing instead of listening to this bickering.
"The thieves, they love a siege. Soon as the gates are sealed, they steal all the food. By the time it's all over, they're the richest men in town," Bronn nodded along to his own speech, before finally growing quiet once more.
"Given the circumstances, my Lord, I believe extreme measures are warranted," Varys agreed and Tyrion sighed, before reluctantly nodding.
"Stannis knows King's Landing. He knows where the walls are strongest, and he knows which gates are weakest," Joffrey glanced over at the map impassively, before thinking back on his own notes.
"Well then, it's safe to assume that he'll come by ship," The other men nodded at Joffrey's words, as the king leant forward to point at a point in Flea Bottom. "So, wouldn't the Mud Gate be the most likely place that he would attack if he's travelling by sea?"
"And if Stannis does attack the Mud Gate, what is our plan?" Varys asked, looking between the three other men.
"That is yet to be decided," Tyrion replied, before looking outside and nodding. "We should go to the battlements, to see the siege preparations in full."
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They were finishing the tour of the battlements when Joffrey decided to ask the question that had been playing on his mind for the majority of the afternoon.
"Do you know what's happening in the North?" Varys paused, looking over at the teenage king, who was staring out at sea impassively. The two older men shared a glance, unused to seeing this side of the king.
"I can't say that I do, Your Grace," Varys replied, put out by the thought of not knowing. Joffrey sighed in annoyance, spinning around to look back at them. "I have many little birds in the North but I haven't heard their songs since Theon Greyjoy captured Winterfell."
Lyra had told him of that one, having been informed in a letter from Jon. Joffrey had never heard so many curse words come out of a woman's mouth, especially when she described Theon. Some, Joffrey wouldn't dare repeat himself and he supposed that this was a good example of Lyra's explosive, Northern temper.
"Great," Joffrey muttered, as silence descended onto them once more.
"Are you planning on fighting, dear nephew?" Tyrion asked, looking over at the pensive teenager, one eyebrow raised.
"Of course," Joffrey gave Tyrion a withering look, annoyed that the man would think that he wouldn't be on the frontlines with his troops. What sort of king would he be if he did not defend his home and family?
"A brave choice, Your Grace. I'm sure your men will line up behind you." Joffrey heard the sarcasm in his tone, but chose to ignore Tyrion's words as he nodded in their direction and stormed back towards the castle. He couldn't place his finger on it, but something about Tyrion normally aggravated Joffrey.
Hiya,
Next chapter is the start of the Battle of the Blackwater. So, who's excited for that?
