Jaime woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off. His tentacle shot out of its own accord and knocked the clock off the table. It shattered on the floor.
Jaime got out of bed. As he started walking to the bathroom, he noticed the tentacle was dragging on the floor. At first it had been the same length as his other arm, but now it was growing.
As he showered and dressed, his tentacle arm couldn't help but knock more shit over. He was having a hard time.
He joined Joffrey, Margaery, and Tommen for breakfast in the dining hall. Joffrey was in a bad mood. What else was new?
"When I find the Imp, I'll have his arms and legs cut off and force fed to him," Joffrey stormed. "He killed my mother, the only person I ever loved!"
"Your lady wife is sitting right next to you," Jaime reminded. "And I'm still not sure Tyrion killed Cersei."
"Who else would have done it?" Joffrey demanded.
Nervously, Margaery changed the subject. "So, who do you think you'll pick as your new Hand?"
"Still thinking about that," Joffrey said.
Margaery smiled sweetly. "If you're having trouble deciding, my lord father has several men among his household that might serve."
Jaime said, "You'll also need a new Master of Whispers."
"I've already decided to appoint Qyburn to that position," said Joffrey.
Jaime stared. "You… you cannot mean to make him the Master of Whispers! He's the one who replaced my hand with a tentacle!"
Joffrey shrugged. "What can I say? I like his work."
Just then, Jaime's tentacle gave a spasm and knocked his glass of orange juice over. It splattered all over Jaime's pants. Joffrey pointed at him and laughed. "Ha-ha! It looks like you peed yourself!"
After breakfast, Jaime went looking for Qyburn. He found him in Pycelle's solar. The two maesters were tending to Ser Gregor.
"How's he holding up?" Jaime asked.
Qyburn said, "We've determined that he was poisoned with manticore venom."
"I thought manticore venom killed the instant it reached the heart," Jaime said.
"An' so it does. But this venom has been thickened somehow, so as to draw out the Mountain's dying." Qyburn's eyes shone longingly. "Ah, those Dornishmen have forgotten more about poison than I'll ever know. I wish I had half their skill!"
Jaime held up his tentacle with his good hand. "Can you get rid of this? It's really starting to bug me. I can't control it, I keep knocking things over, and I think it's growing! I tried to have Ser Ilyn Payne cut it off yesterday. He used the sharpest axe he had, but couldn't even make a scratch in it."
"Sorry," said Qyburn. "I don't do exchanges or refunds. What's done can't be undone."
Later, Jaime was outside, when he saw the two rats, Whegg and Chinwart, preparing to leave King's Landing. They had a human girl with them. She was Meg's handmaid Ruth who had come with her from Winterfell. The Lannisters had been hiding her in King's Landing this whole time. Now she was wearing Meg's hat and glasses, which Meg had left behind when she fled the city.
"What's going on here?" Jaime wanted to know.
"This is Meg Griffin," said Chinwart. "We're takin' her back to her home, Winterfell, where she's goin' to marry Ramsay Bolton."
Jaime was flabbergasted. "I thought Meg Griffin was gone!"
Joffrey came up and stood beside Jaime. "She is. But this girl looks remarkably like her, once we straightened out her hair and slapped Meg's hat and glasses on her."
"And you're gonna give her to Ramsay Snow?" Even in the south, men told tales of the Bastard of Bolton. Jaime knew how Ramsay treated women.
"His name is Ramsay Bolton now, remember?" said Joffrey. "He's been legitimized. And he deserves a reward for recapturing Winterfell."
"You can't do this to an innocent girl!" Jaime cried.
"Are you trying to tell me what to do?" Joffrey said petulantly. "I'm your king! Do you mean to turn traitor like all my other uncles?"
"No. I'm not your enemy, Joffrey. You must know that."
Joffrey narrowed his eyes. "I'll forgive your insolence. This time."
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That evening, Margaery was talking to her grandmother Olenna. "Joffrey's going to be a terrible king, I just know it. Today he basically sent that poor girl off to be raped!"
Olenna studied her granddaughter. "Has Joffrey raped you?" she asked bluntly. She knew the young king and queen hadn't had the customary bedding ceremony, because the wedding had been interrupted by Cersei's murder. She had no idea what was going on between Joffrey and Margaery in the bedroom.
Margaery shook her head. "No, thank the gods. We've been married for over a week now, but he doesn't seem interested in sex with me at all. Funny, isn't it? I've had two husbands, yet I'm still a virgin."
"I wonder if he's another homosexual like Renly," Olenna said thoughtfully.
"I wish Renly was still alive and sitting on the Iron Throne," Margaery sighed. "He would have made a much better husband and a better king."
"Well, Joffrey still has a younger brother," said Olenna. "If Joffrey were out of the way, you could marry Tommen and mold him into whatever kind of ruler you want. We tried to remove Joffrey once before and failed, but it's not too late…"
