Naveena LANNISTER :||: Queen Series #2

4) I'd Hardly Call Me A Lady

Naveena
Just as I said that Joffrey clapped, silencing the audience. "Well done! Champions purse! Though you're not the champions yet, are you? A true champion defeats all the challengers. Surely others still dare to challenge my reign. Hmm?" He paused. "Uncle? I'm sure they have a spare costume."

I raised a pointed brow as Cersei and Tywin glanced at each other with me in between. Tyrion smiled, covering up the anger that no doubt came about at his nephew's words. "One brush with combat is enough for me, your grace, I would like to keep what remains of my face." He motioned to the slash that had healed across his face. "I think you should fight him. This was but a poor imitation of your bravery on the field of battle, I speak as a firsthand witness. Go on, climb down from the high table and show everyone how a true king wins his throne."

A few members of the audience laughed, remembering how the king had fled during the Battle of the Blackwater, hiding with his mother and brother underneath the Keep. Joffrey glared at his uncle for the public humiliation and picked up his goblet, finding it empty. "Oh dear, it seems I've no more wine. Uncle, you can be my cupbearer seeing as you're too cowardly to fight."

"Your grace does me a great honour," Tyrion smiled coyly, and the three of us were nearly hiding our faces in embarrassment and misery. Welcome to the royal family.

"It was not meant as an honour."

Tyrion's face went hard, and stiffly, he rose from his chair and walked around the table, reaching for Joffrey's cup which he purposely dropped on the floor at the last moment. The two glared at each other before Tyrion swiftly picked the cup up off the ground and filled it from the beaker in front of us.

His hard gaze met mine, but he nodded, and I knew it was in thanks for getting Sansa out of here. Joffrey took the cup as the massive pie was brought out and swiftly drank from it. Tyrion sat down as the king grabbed his new Valyrian Steel sword and swinging it over his head, brought it down upon the cake, releasing the doves hidden within.

A slice was brought to the queen, who began to hand-feed it to the king. Joffrey smiled, probably thinking of all the horrible things he could do to his new wife. After chewing his first piece for a moment, the smile slowly left his face, and he began to cough, reaching for his goblet and drinking more wine. "Your grace?" Tyrion asked, standing up.

His cough got worse, and he grasped at his neck. Margaery's eyes widened in horror. "He's choking!"

"Joffrey!" I stood as Cersei was already racing for her son.

"Someone, help the poor boy!" Olenna cried.

Margaery reached for her husband as he stumbled down the stairs and collapsed to his knees. Jaime barged through the people between him and his son, who was now lying face down in the dirt, froth spewing out of his mouth.

I clutched at Tywin, playing the damsel in distress, standing over the dying king. Cersei knelt to the ground, rolling her son over in her lap but was horrified at the sight. Joffrey's eyes were wide and unseeing as the poison squeezed every last living moment out of him, vomit leaking out of his mouth.

I was puzzled by the violent and fast-acting solution and how it could have gotten there. Glancing behind me, Olenna stood to console Margaery who shielded her eyes from the scene, and the old woman looked up, eyes locking on mine. A moment passed between us, but I broke it before anyone noticed.

"Joffrey! Please! Someone, help him!" Cersei cried helplessly, her son gasping for breath, blood running out of his nose and his eyes, face going red as all his blood vessels burst.

Jaime was on his other side, one hand holding up his son while he died and the other on his sister's shoulder. Joffrey heaved his last breaths, gasping and choking as blood flooded his lungs and no air got through. "My son." Cersei cried, her face contorting with anger.