Chapter eight

Long live the king

Sansa

The few days after Baelish's trail had been a blur to Sansa. Arya had been confined to her quarters with guards outside ever since with no visitors allowed. Her father had been rushed to the maester and Sansa had not seen him since.

Today was King Robert's funeral and as Sansa was sat having her hair braided by a servant, she could not stop her brain from worrying about her family. She hoped she could visit one of them today. A note had arrived the day before telling her that her presence at the funeral was required. Sansa knew it was to save face and show that the Starks still supported the crown. She had been planning to attend anyway to support Tommen, she knew saying a final goodbye to his father would be hard for the boy and she was fond of him.

Once her hair was perfect Sansa slid her black pumps onto her feet and exited her rooms, with a longing glance at her sister's door she began her decent. Waiting in the courtyard was her escort that consisted of Septa Mordane and the two guards that had been assigned to her. Sansa knew this was not for her protection but because of the actions of her sister. They worried if one daughter could be so dangerous then the other could too. Sansa could never. As much as she was shocked by Arya's actions in ending Baelish's life, she also was proud of her. Baelish had threatened the pack by disparaging her mother and he had also hurt pack by hurting father. After yielding no less. That man had absolutely no honour, not in life or even in death.

Sansa was guided into a wheelhouse and was surprised to see Myrcella was inside, she had thought she would be kept away from royal family members lest she attack one.

Myrcella must have seen the surprise on her face as she smiled softly and said "Come on in Sansa. You're welcome to sit with me."

"Excuse me princess. I just thought perhaps with my sister being kept inside and my guards I would no longer be welcome in royal circles." Sansa said nervously smoothing down her skirts.

"Your sister's actions, though brutal, were understandable." Sansa looked shocked at the princess's words. "If it was a person who had harmed my father, I would like to believe I would do the same. My brother must be seen to be investigating or it would look bad but worry not Sansa you are my friend, and your father is trusted by Joffrey. You are quite safe."

Sansa breathed out a sigh of relief and fully relaxed for the first time in days. They spent most of the ride in silence but just before they reached the sept she decided to speak. "I'm sorry about the loss of your father Myrcella. I'm here if you ever need to speak to somebody."

"That's very kind of you Sansa. Truly, but I am ok. He was my father, but he was also king and therefore busy." Myrcella smiled a small smile and then donned a mourning face before exiting the wheelhouse.

Sansa figured the funeral of a king should be much grander than what she witnessed as she entered the great sept. The surroundings themselves were grand with crystal windows reflecting rainbows onto the floor and giant statues of the seven looking down upon the congregation. Nevertheless, there were no floral arrangements, and the mourners were few. Apart from Lord Renly who was the Lord of Storms end and Lord of the Stormlands as well as the late king's brother there were no other lord paramounts. Sansa knew from her father that the funeral was being done earlier than would be usual, but King Robert's body had been weakened due to his month abed and therefore needed interning as soon as possible.

Sansa walked forwards with her head bowed as she was guided to a pew three rows back. The first row of course was the new king, Prince Tommen, the princess, and Lord Renly as the family. The second row was the kingsguard as protection for the family, mainly the king. Sansa was surprised that she was at the front of the nobility due to her sister's actions however as she thought about it, it was a show to the nobility of the 'just' nature that Joffrey had been trying to fool everyone to believe.

It wasn't long after she was seated that the service begun with the high septon preaching of all the virtues of the late king and the tales of his defeat of the Targaryen's. Sansa heard Joffrey scoff as the high septon spoke about the love King Robert held for his children. Although Sansa had never seen King Robert be very paternal towards his children, she was sure in private the man was very warm to them. Another strike against Joffrey, speaking ill of the dead was an affront to the gods. Then Sansa remembered Tommen telling her about his father not being a kind man. Well, Joffrey still shouldn't be scoffing at his funeral. Sansa thought.

Sansa kept finding her eyes drawn towards the prince even though she was trying to focus on the sermon. Tommen was sat with his head bowed but by the tense muscles in his back she could see it was not sadness which claimed him but fear. As she studied him, she took notice of his blond hair styled short and that he had begun to lose the puppy fat that had clung to his cheeks when she first met him. He really was quite handsome, like his brother, but without the cruelty that sometimes-twisted Joffrey's face.

It was with a jump that Sansa's gaze was broken when Joffrey seemingly had enough and stood.

"Yes, yes. My father is dead, he was a great man, the gods judge him. Now lets all depart back up to the red keep for the main event of the day. My coronation." He called. It was a second before anyone reacted but slowly everyone stood and headed back to the waiting carriages leaving the last king alone with nobody to witness his burial.

Joffrey

Sitting there as the high fool praised his disgusting father was too much for Joffrey. He had tried, he really had! Lord Stark had spoken to him about the importance of seeming to be in grief for his father so the people would see what a good person and king he was. Of course, that was before the whole trial of combat disaster. Joffrey knew he should have fought Littlefinger he wouldn't have let the little worm injure him so. Now he had to do most of the work that should have been the hands work. And that little bitch had stolen his kill! He had told Lord Stark that he could fight Littlefinger but the final blow was his, he wanted to kill him for stealing from him. Plus being seen as a strong king couldn't hurt either.

Joffrey had kept the wild Stark bitch in her rooms, he knew she hated him and for a girl to kill someone in public was just barbaric. If she had the opportunity who knew what she would do to him? Luckily, he still had the prettier sister around as his puppet to show everyone that he still had the north, but he kept her at a distance too as if one sister was mad maybe the other one was too.

With a shake of his head, he cleared his mind of the thoughts on the Starks. Today was the greatest day of his life. He was to be crowned King of Westeros today and nobody could take the attention away from him: not the Stark's, not his mother and not even his dead father. Joffrey's plush carriage lead the way throughout the streets of Kings Landing so that he'd have time to change out of these stuffy black mourning clothes and into something more befitting the king.

Joffrey raced into the keep, his own castle, and into a chamber behind the throne room where servants were waiting to dress him. As he stood being draped in the finest fabrics in the lands his mind wandered to the reception his accent to the throne would surely bring. Lord Stark had told him how his conduct since he had arrived from the North had won him many hearts. Not that he cared what was in the hearts of the people. But Joffrey did care where their attention was, and if it was on him, he would be happy. He listened as the chatter behind the door leading to where his subjects were waiting began to grow so did the smile upon his face. This was what he was made for, to rule and to be loved by all.

Joffrey stood making all the servants around him scatter and looked at himself in the large ornate mirror. He was as handsome as ever, he thought, and it would only be improved by the crown that would soon adorn his golden head. There was a slight knock on the door and Joffrey knew it was time for his entrance.

"Leave." He barked at his servants; he didn't want them to be in the background of his moment.

It was only a few heartbeats before the doors opened flooding the room with light and Joffrey strode through. He approached the iron throne from behind and felt his heartbeat speed up as he was dwarfed in the shadow of it. Joffrey stood in front of it and looked expectantly at the congregation, it was then that they burst into an applause.

The high septon then approached with the crown that Joffrey had designed and had made. It was a golden circlet with two stags rearing up and intricate detailing around the band. He had wanted two lions as well, but Lord Stark had advised against it considering that it was his father's lineage who had the royal blood. It was wise council as was usual from the man. If only he wasn't laid up Joffrey wouldn't have as many decisions to make!

Joffrey took in everything as it was placed on his head, he wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life. He remembered the beams of lights throughout the windows, the look of awe on the peoples faces and the weight of his crown resting on his head.

Once it was safely on his head and the high priest had wiped some oil on his head, he begum his ascent to his throne. Before he sat, he stood before the people and spoke.

"My Lords and Ladies, I stand here now as your king and the king of all of Westeros. I am to be a just king as you have all seen in fact, I am to be a king who loves and is loved by his people and a king who will be remembered in the ages to come. I stand here a boy not yet of majority and therefore I am in need of a regent for the short time before I reach majority. Throughout my life there have been many who have left an effect on my life but no more than the person I am to name my regent. The person I trust to rule in my name –"

Before he could continue there was a large scraping as the doors at the back of the throne room opened and he was furious. Who dared be late and interrupt him? He was about to order them arrested when he stopped noticing the lion on the armour of the man opening the door. He paled as his mother came flowing through the door.

"Me of course." Cersei said loudly. "I'm back, my son, no need to worry."

Joffrey was very worried.

Hi! Did you miss me? I got a few people with negative reviews last update, which is fine, but I do hope this chapter kind of explains. Ned was toying with Littlefinger. He was sidestepping his furious swings in order to get him riled and make a mistake. He also let him yield for Joffrey, would Joffrey really let anyone take his kill? Anyway, Cersei is back!

See you next week,

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