1857 AC Red Keep, King's Landing
Hedda snorted softly while she reread Joffrey's musings about Harrold Hardyng. From what Jeyne had found out, he hadn't distinguished himself much in his later years either.
Said woman was currently frantically taking down notes and ideas for her newest master work. Petyr Baelish's live story had clearly sparked inspiration in her. Hedda saw quite a few cocktails nights in her future. Not that she was complaining.
A knock at the door let her look up and then a broad grin spread over her face. In the doorway, followed by a smiling Tywin and a surprisingly silent Erenford was Meralyn Paenymion. Her hair, like always, was silver grey and in a short bob. She wore a flattering turquoise shirt and coral jewelry, as always looking effortlessly elegant no matter what she wore.
"Meralyn!" she greeted her older colleague, standing up.
Meralyn laughed and came quickly over to hug her, sneakily peeking down at her notes.
"I see you have been hard at work. How far have you come?"
"Look at this." Hedda said with a grin and shoved her translation into Meralyn's hands.
There were an additional four copies, Edwin had printed them out in anticipation of their arrival.
Hedda was so occupied with watching Meralyn's every expression that the clearing of a throat startled her. When she looked up she was confronted with the sight of Dr. Clegane in front of her. She had completely forgotten how quiet he could be.
"Barath." He grunted in greeting.
"Clegane." She answered with a nod before she heard a huff behind her.
Uh oh. Jeyne was already gearing up for another clash with Clegane and said man was clearly looking forward to it, the arrogant grin spoke volumes.
"Why if that isn't Jeyne Marsha." In that particular tone that always got a rise out of her.
"You… you." Jeyne face was turning red in fury and he hadn't said more than a handful of words yet, just great.
"Me." He smirked back at her for a short moment, before turning his attention back to Hedda.
"So Barath, have you found any evidence about my ancestor."
Hedda sighed and then pointed at the page that first mentioned Sandor Clegane.
Howard begin to read and then began to grin, "I will be damned, so grandfather was right."
He then grabbed the briefcase he carried with him and deposited it on Hedda's primary work desk and pulled out a box made from black leather.
It contained medieval knife cushioned in black velvet. At a closer look Hedda recognized an elaborate stag head burned into the hilt. It was visibly old and well used.
"Is that…" Hedda gasped before whispering, "Is that a knife of Joffrey's retinue?"
She couldn't believe it. Why the heck was that not in a museum? Or at least a climate controlled depot?
"It is." Howard agreed smugly, "It has been in my family for over 500 years."
"Howard, why is that not in a museum?" Tywin asked beside her, sharing her opinion.
"Because it is a family heirloom? And don't insult me, this is a climate box and we have appropriate facilities for artifact storage back home. I had my sister send it to me when I heard about the journal. There are several other things stored there as well. Including a dragonglass knife and Sandor Clegane's longsword."
296 AC, King's Landing, Red Keep, Joffrey's solar
The next five months went by exceedingly fast. It was business as usual for Joffrey, most of the days he was in private lessons with Lord Jon or shadowing the man at court with additional theoretical lessons from Daven and of course his martial lessons occurred every day but Sunday without fail.
Jousting was turning out to be one of his least favorite exercises. He wasn't abysmal at it, but with his current size it was very hard work to keep both the horse and the lance under control. Not to mention that it was hard to create enough force to be able to hit the targets presented to him and absorb the shock and not be thrown of his horse.
Joffrey's frustration with that martial skill was a source of endless amusement for Ser Jaime. His uncle had taken it upon himself to oversee that part of his training, being an excellent jouster himself. Tyrion later told Joffrey that Jaime was also worried about possible accidents, especially with what happened to Willas Tyrell.
Otherwise Joffrey was invited to various outings and celebrations around the city and attended a carefully curated handful. He made sure that he was seen walking the streets by the smallfolk and patronizing shops of all kinds of professions as well as giving alms to the poor.
He had his Crown Prince Works set up carts on holy days where they handed out soups and stews for free. The Crown Prince Works were also expanded into other profitable areas. Offering work to widows and the very poor, while also including free daycare for the mothers. They produced small everyday things like clothing, candles or crockery from which a percentage was given to the orphanages around King's Landing and the very best was sold in various shops. Joffrey made sure that all the businesses running under the name of Crown Prince Works had an aspect of charity to them and visibly served the betterment of the smallfolk. From the rumors and the general positive attitude towards him, it was noted and appreciated.
This in turn painted a rather large target on his back for Targaryen and Blackfyre supporters.
A fact that Joffrey was aware of, but which he accepted as a necessary risk. He needed as much support and trust from even the lowest ranks of society if he wanted to survive the next decade.
As a precaution though he avoided any further trips to Oak Valley Hall, he would not offer anyone a chance to attack him outside the well-guarded Red Keep, at least not while the spider was still alive. Varys was a rather looming threat to Joffrey these days, from the books he knew that the eunuch was more than capable of killing him should he get Joffrey alone. Thank everything Joffrey hadn't been left alone since the incidence with Baelish, Sandor had taken exception to him sneaking down to the kitchens without protection.
On another note, Lord Harwin Langward, the Master of Laws died peacefully in his sleep. Ensuring that Renly finally got a seat on the Small Council as he had wished. Though other than in the books and TV series, this was a duty that his uncle would have to take seriously.
Joffrey ensured that with the simple action of taking an interest in the position.
Renly who never had any true interest in book learning, wisely, took the advice of Lord Jon and employed the scribes that had been working for Lord Langward. They would take care of keeping the appropriate records for the office and sort through the boatloads of correspondence filled with legal matters from all the Crownlands and a few letters from further afield.
Renly in turn presided twice a month over court cases that did not reach the Hand of the King, otherwise he left that task to the people underneath him. Joffrey's interest in the proceeding uncovered additional corruption, but in no way as bad as what had happened in the office of the Master of Coin. Lord Langward had been dutiful enough and the people he employed were at least not incompetent.
In a clearly desperate attempt to actually find something that suited his interests Renly took a special interest in the Gold Cloaks. After Janos Slynt's execution for working together with Baelish, the position had been given to Ser Jacelyn Bywater, who had been considered a strong contender for the captaincy of the Mud Gate. Ser Bywater had, in the last months since his appointment, begun to reform the Gold Cloaks and was now enthusiastically supported by Renly, who along with Loras had worked out a training program for the City Watch.
Wading through the corruption had been, like so many times before, left to Lord Jon. Joffrey really would have a problem if he did not find a competent hand once he sat on that throne.
296 AC, King's Landing, Red Keep, Joffrey's apartments
Joffrey was reading his weekly allotment of law treaties on his balcony when noticed Massey coming through the door.
With a curtsy she said apologetic, "My prince has given the order to inform him at once the moment certain people of interest enter the city. Ser Swann arrived this morning by ship and is in turn seeking an audience with your highness. He will be given an appointment for tomorrow afternoon, if that suits?"
Joffrey nodded at that, "Where is he staying?"
"An reputable inn along the docks, my prince."
Which meant that Balon wouldn't be at risk of being murdered in the night. Good. Joffrey could guess what the freshly knighted man wanted. In the last few months a large variety of people had gathered in King's Landing to await the start of the Northern Progress.
After the route of the Progress had been announced many of the lords and nobles had in turn announced tourneys and celebrations. A fact that had quite excited the nobility around Westeros and many a knight had publicly entreated the King to allow him to ride in the Progress. Which Robert of course had granted jovially. By now their entourage was easily in the thousands and Lord Arryn had started to put restrictions on who could join in the main host. Swann was probably trying to land a place through his acquaintance with him. Joffrey was planning on granting it.
The next day, after his normal lessons Joffrey made his way to the public solar he had received after his appointed as crown prince. It was in the lower parts of the Red Keep and once a week he met with a careful curated number of petitioners. Marwin was, as always, working in the adjourning room, listening with one ear, while at the same time sorting through mail.
"Ser Balon Swann, your highness." Mab announced, before she discreetly faded into the background.
Joffrey rose when the 17-year-old entered the room. He had shot up even more in the year they hadn't seen each other.
"Your highness." Balon greeted him solemnly with a deep bow, "I thank you for the audience."
"Sir Balon, welcome to King's Landing. I take it you have arrived for the Progress?"
Sir Balon seemed a bit embarrassed by that and bowed his head low, "My prince is not wrong… but it is not the only reason. A year ago when we first met… you… indicated an interest in taking me into service?" he explained, voice becoming unsure to the end.
Even better.
So Joffrey nodded and let a smile grow over his face, "I did. May I take this as your acceptance, then? Your Lord father agreed?"
Ser Balon relaxed in turn and nodded, "My lord father has given me dispensation from our line of succession. Should my older brother be unable to succeed my father, my younger brother Clifford will be next in line."
Joffrey allowed himself a surprised expression, "You mean to swear fealty to me directly. Not become a temporary companion or sworn sword? This path… are you aiming to become a Kingsguard?… are you certain? Such an oath is for life."
"I am aware, your highness. Tis a decision that I have debated for moons. If you will have me, I will be yours to command."
To his left Clegane shifted slightly and Joffrey let his eyes wander to his protector. The man gave him a small, sharp nod before his eyes turned back to Balon. So he clearly approved of the young knight.
"Very well. I accept your fealty Ser Balon. I will arrange for an appropriate ceremony in the coming weeks. Where are you currently staying?"
"The Mermaid Inn, at the Mud Gate."
"Then please collect your belongings and return to the Red Keep. There will be a room ready at your return."
Ser Balon nodded, the solemn expression vanishing for a moment while he smiled at Joffrey before he left the room with another deep bow in his direction.
"Mab, please arrange that." Joffrey addressed the girl across from him.
"Across from Master Clegane?" she clarified.
"Yes." Clegane agreed gruffly.
Joffrey was certain that this was mostly so that Sandor could keep an eye on the young knight.