Chapter 10: Kingly Anger
"What good is being King, if I cannot enjoy the things that come with it!" Robert thundered, deeply annoyed with first wife and now Ned telling him there was no point in fighting in the melee. "My seven damned sons will be fighting and earning their spurs, and I must now simply sit there and watch them."
"Better to watch, than being humiliated by the people's fear to hurt you, Sire." Ned replied, calmly as ever. Robert looked at his friend and asked.
"I'm surprised you wouldn't enter the melee, Ned. You entered at Harrenhal and nearly won." He remembered those days fondly, when he could drink all night and fight all day. Now even putting on his armour tired him.
"I have no need to prove myself, Sire. I know what I can do in a fight." Ned said softly, though Robert heard the rebuke in his words.
"You know, I think this is the only thing you and my wife have agreed on, Ned, how does that make you feel?" Robert asked.
His friend said nothing for a moment and Robert laughed. He knew well the animosity that existed between his friend and his wife and her family. He did not much care for it though. It irritated him. "The Queen was right in this instance." Ned said. Robert roared with laughter.
His squires came then and adjusted some of his armour. "Enough with that. I will no longer need this." Lancel Lannister looked flustered, but Jon Snow and Martyn Lannister stepped up and helped remove the armour and plate. Snow handed him his shirt. "Thanks, lad." Robert looked at Ned then and said. "You've got a good lad there, Ned. He's quick on his feet and doesn't think with his cock."
Snow blushed, and Ned cracked a rare smile. "Thank you."
Robert turned back to his friend then and said. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you, why did you not send the lad south sooner? He could have grown up here, and earned more stripes." It was something he wished he could have done for his own bastards, Edric, and the other one, who he could not think of.
Ned's face changed then, turning slightly darker, and for a moment Robert wondered if he had said the wrong thing. "I…" Ned took a breath and then his face softened. "Jon's place was with his family at Winterfell. That he is enjoying himself here is all the better to me." There was something about the way Ned said family that raised his suspicions, but he put that to the side.
Robert looked at Jon who was standing a fair distance back. "You're fighting in the squire's melee are you not, lad?"
Snow nodded. "I am, Sire."
"Good. You might well fight my own son, Tommen, he wants to win to show his brother that he too can fight in the melee." Robert said, Joffrey had gotten it into his head to fight with the men, and so, Robert, proud that his son was at last showing some sort of warrior spirit had agreed. Promising him a knighthood if he won. Deciding to make things interesting he looked at Snow and said. "If you win the squires melee, I'll give you a knighthood."
Snow looked shocked at this. "I…I thank you, Sire."
Ned looked at him then, something flitting in those grey eyes of his, Robert ignored them and instead said. "Right, well if I cannot fight, I might as well watch them fight." He walked out of the tent, and made his way up the stand. Ser Barristan followed closely behind, Robert did not know what to make of the man. He had been loyal to Aerys for so very long and then had bent the knee. Sometimes Robert wondered if the man still felt any loyalty to the Targaryens across the sea. He even wondered whether he should've declared for Aegon on the Trident, it was the man's father and grandsire he had had issues with not the babe himself.
Tywin Lannister had taken that choice from him though. The crimson covered bodies still haunted him at night. He blinked and then sat down in his chair. All eyes were on him. He took a breath, resisted the urge to drink and proclaimed. "Let it begin!" the crowd roared and the melee began. He watched as the fighters came barrelling out at one another. Joffrey was obvious from the stag helm he wore, he looked much like Robert himself had done during the Trident. No doubt Joffrey had wanted it that way. He even wielded a hammer, though Robert knew his son was a natural with a sword.
He watched the fight, saw knights of experience fall before his son and though there was a hint of jealousy within him, he mainly felt pride. His son was doing that to these people. A Baratheon was destroying these knights and others. More and more men fell until it was his son and the Mountain left. Even the Hound had fallen before his son. Robert felt something crawl inside him, he knew what the Mountain had done to Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen. He kept his breathing steady and watched as his son advanced. The Mountain swung and Joffrey blocked, then his son pushed back. One swing hit the Mountain's sword, another hit his chest. Robert watched and then winced as the Mountain retaliated.
Robert watched everything happen slowly and then quickly. One moment his son was on his knees, battling for dear life, the next moment he was on his feet and the Mountain was bleeding, his sword discarded. For a moment, Robert wondered if his son would rob the Dornish of their revenge, instead he merely swung his hammer and knocked the Mountain out cold. Robert stood and clapped, bellowing his approval. The commons and lords gathered all did the same. Robert walked down the steps and made his way to his son. He took his son's hand and roared. "This is my son, this is your Prince! Joffrey Baratheon!" The crowd roared. And Robert looked at his son and smiled. "I am proud of you." He said, and he was, truly proud. "Kneel." He commanded.
His son did as bid, and Robert took the sword offered by Ser Barristan. "I, Robert, of the House Baratheon, King of Westeros, do hereby knight you before these people in the light of the Seven. Do you swear to defend the weak and the innocent, to fight for truth, justice and honour?"
"I, Joffrey, of the House Baratheon, do swear." His son replied.
Robert tapped his son's right shoulder, then his left, and said. "Then rise, Ser Joffrey." He handed the sword back to Ser Barristan and helped his son stand, took his hand and lifted it up for the crowd to see.