The execution

Jon POV

The Iron Throne was made so the kings wouldn't be able to sit on it comfortably. It worked, and even though I sat on it every day since I took it, I never felt comfortable. Every day I would listen to complaints, requests, and disputes of petty lords. Small folk at least sounded honest.

Many people were coming every day. But I hated the merchants mostly; they would ask for their homes to be rebuilt first, and some even were caught lying. They said their properties were destroyed in the fire when they didn't even have any. If not for Lord Tully's pragmatism, many would have tricked me.

I hated that I would believe in these fake tears. I would have exiled them from Westeros if we didn't need merchants. Gold was in high demand now. I will need to send Lord Tully to Westerlands after we stabilize the situation in the city. The Lannisters should have some gold left in their castle.

Damn the Lannisters. Thinking about them, my anger rises. I want to kill them for what they have done. But it did wake me up to reality. It showed me what greed for power could do. It made me think of all my decisions, so I would never become something like Tywin.

"Your Grace, there are dozen more petitioners," A guard informed me.

Dozen more I could handle. Thinking of Lord Tully's work these days, it wasn't that difficult for me to listen to petitioners. After it was over for today, I left for the Small Council room. I was always the last to come. For now, Tyrells made half of the council.

"Let's get it over," I told them without any formality.

"The people are demanding justice, your grace," Lord Mallister spoke first.

"The Septons demand for the Great Sept to be rebuilt first," Ser Garlan Tyrell worked as commander of the city watch. "With each day, they gather more and more people."

"How is rebuilding going, Lord Mace Tyrell?" I had to call him by name as there were too many of them.

"It is coming nicely if I have to say so myself."

"It is going too slow," Lord Tully, my Hand, said in a cold tone. "The harbor is still a long way from being operational, not speaking of housing. For now, I am sending some people to Harrenhal. Harrenhal will be able to house ten thousand, and other towns in Riverlands will take up a couple of hundreds each but not much more. The bigger problem is feeding them. The grain is coming in slower than it is consumed."

"Let people hunt in King's wood and fish in the Blackwater bay," I said. "It will lessen the food shortage a little."

"Don't worry, your grace, the Reach will soon be able to fill the warehouses with grain," Lord Mace Tyrrel said in a joyful voice.

"I don't doubt Reach's capabilities, but there are no warehouses to begin with," Lord Tully replied. "Most of the warehouses were in the Harbor district."

"Lord Mace Tyrell, I want the harbor to be able to operate by the end of this month," I said.

"Your Grace is impossible. It is just too little time."

"If you can't do it, I will find someone who can," I told him.

"Your Grace," Lord Mallister got my attention. "We need to give people the justice they want before riots start."

"Very well, it seems I can't get it delayed any longer," I let a sigh, "Announce to everyone that I will execute Joffrey and Stannis tomorrow."

With that, the meeting was over. Yet the work never ended. I will need to look into the Sept. I don't want a religious uprising on my hands. Somedays, I wish I was just the bastard of Winterfell. I was starting to miss Lady's Stark cold stares.

…

Thousands of people stood before me. They looked at me. None of them knew who I was. They only knew what I was. Standing in front of them with colorful silk clothes. Gold and silver jewelry adorned me. I felt like a jester performing a show to them.

Joffrey and Stannis were brought to me, and the people cheered. As the two kings knelt before their blocks, the crowd threw rotting tomatoes and dirt at them. They screamed for justice, yet no one knew why. Justice of what? They only heard what we told them and didn't question it.

The hot sun made me sick. At times I felt like I couldn't breathe. I am a king, I told myself, act like a king. Then I would remember the previous kings. Should I act as Robert? He was beloved by many yet betrayed by his closest people. Act like Joffrey or like Stannis? Maybe like Aerys?

No, I can't act like a king. I needed to be a king. I stood tall before the crowd. With my raised hand, the crowd calmed down. The silver crown sitting on my head reflected the hot sun. The crown was light, yet it felt heavy at this moment.

"My people, we have suffered below the Lannister's rule," I shouted. "I, King Jaehaerys Targaryen, third of his name, bring before you the kings that should have protected you. They should have provided for you. Yet they only brought war, murder, and pain upon you. One was a pretender taking a name from Baratheons. The other has left you to suffer, abandoning his brothers, killing honorable and just lords. Now they will face justice."

The crowd cheered. I turned and faced Joffrey and Stannis. A year ago, I would have been looking up to them. Now I look down on them. Joffrey trashed around with his bound hands. He cried in fear. Stannis had a stone face. He knew his fate and accepted it.

"Do either of you have any last words?" I asked them. "Let the people hear them."

"I am the rightful king. You just a bastard," Joffrey yelled through his tears. "I am the king. I am the king."

"What about you, Stannis?" I ignored Joffrey and turned to the older man.

"I have lost, I might die today, but you will fight for the rest of your life. I wish you fortune in the coming wars."

Stannis spoke quietly, only for me to hear. I desperately wanted to say that there would be no wars after this. Yet even I didn't believe it. There will always be someone to fight, someone who wants me dead, someone who wants the Iron Throne. And I will fight, fight for the rest of my life.

"You asked for justice," I yelled to the people. "The King had heard you, and the King will bring it to you. The false king, Joffrey Watters, I sentence you to death in the name of the Seven."

I brought my sword up. Lord Tully asked me to let someone else do the deed. But I couldn't forget my roots. I am of the North, and in the North, if you sentence someone to death, you have to look at their eyes as you do the deed. I could not hide behind the executioner. My sword fell, and the crowd cheered loudly.

"Stannis Baratheon, you, Master of Ships, serving under King Robert's rule, have left him to die. You abandoned your duties and your brothers. You are no king but a coward. A coward that killed honorable and just Lord Stark. I sentence you to death."

The crowd once again cheered as my sword fell and a head rolled. The people were celebrating. I wanted to ask them if they were entertained, for I was tired. As the show ended, I left, but people stayed and celebrated. It was over, I said to myself. Yet I knew it was only the beginning.

…

Back at the Red Keep, I asked to eat dinner with Lord Tully. I was not too fond of his personality. I hated how he could look so strong all the time. No matter what is thrown at him, he will always stand firm. I felt weak compared to him. Yet, he was someone I could trust fully.

"You did great out there, your Grace," Lord Tully said.

"Did I?"

"Yes, your speech was strong and short. People like it."

"Then it is good, I guess," I replied. "When will Margaery Tyrell arrive?"

"She is on her way. Ser Samwell Tarly is escorting her."

Ser Samwell Tarly? It had been a long time since I saw him. It felt like a whole eternity. I still hold the memories of us playing at Harrenhal, when I was still a bastard, dear to me. I wonder how Sarrela is doing. She always acted like she was more mature than us.

"I will announce the wedding between Lady Margaery and me once she arrives," I said.

"Very well, still I suggest holding off the wedding till the new year. The following year will bring the end of the century, and by that time, we will be stable enough not to depend on the Tyrells."

I agreed. I still wasn't comfortable being a king. I was not ready to start a family. Yet I knew I needed an heir. For now, Robb was my heir, but I knew that not many would support him. The Seven Kingdoms would again break into civil war if something happened to me.

"How is the situation with small folk?" I asked.

"They are satisfied for now," Lord Tully answered. "So far, the weather was nice. There isn't much complaining about people sleeping in the tents."

"Winter is coming," I replied. "Soon, it will be too cold for them to sleep outside."

"It is still summer, your Grace."

"For how long?"

"A year, maybe two."

"Can you rebuild the King's Landing in that time?"

"I not only rebuild it but make it better than it ever was," Lord Tully answered without hesitation. "I make sure King's Landing would become worthy of its name. It will be the most splendid city in the known world."

I envied his confidence and determination. But it was fine. I didn't need to be him to be a good king. I only needed to remember what my father, no, what my uncle taught me. I learn many things from Lord Mallister too. I had to stand on my own feet.

A.N. Thanks for reading. If you want more, up to five advance chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852