A/N: Sorry about the wait, but I'm still dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew. So again, apologies.
Draedon POV
Today is the day of the Hand's Tourney. Knights and noble families have traveled from their homes in order to compete or see this expensive display of violence. I can see some families from the Riverlands, the Reach, and the Westerlands. Some Northerners, but not many. Some Knights of the Vale made the way to the capital. No Martells again. That has to change in the future.
Even Gregor Clegane has made the trip from his keep. There are only two times anybody sees him outside of his keep; tournaments and war. That doesn't have to change anytime soon. I have absolutely despised that man ever since Sandor told me how he got his scars. What kind of person can do that to somebody else, let alone their little brother? Sandor wants to kill him, as does the entirety of Dorne, so who gets to do it? Dorne would most likely come back into the fold if they were given the Mountain. But Sandor has loyally stayed by my side for years. Oh, what a tough decision.
The last tournament I was excited for was a squire tournament I competed in when I was only four and ten. My first tourney. It was a phenomenal experience that I wouldn't change for anything. I won it but just barely. I was lucky enough to have been born with my father's strength or else I would not have been able to hold on to my horse once I got hit. Father wanted to knight me after that but I declined, stating that I was much too young for such an honor. That was not why I declined it though. The real reason is because I remember seeing Sandor look at me and I just couldn't become what he hates. It helped my decision when I remembered that 'knights' have went really down hill as of late.
In the pavilion, father sits to the left of me with mother to the left of him. Joffrey is sitting to the left of her with Tommen by him. Myrcella sits to the right of me, like it has always been. She looks like an exact copy of mother, wearing a green gown to bring out her emerald eyes. Mother is in a crimson and gold dress, that way no one forgets that she is a Lannister. They really are a sight to behold.
The new Hand, Lord Stark, sits with his daughters and other nobles. I can see Lord Baelish sitting behind them. Most likely attempting to sway one of them. Sansa seems the most likely victim; a naïve little girl. Tis a shame really. She seemed quite kind. Arya, on the other hand, less lady-like and more knight like. A tiny inexperienced knight, but a knight none the less. Lord Stark himself is still a bit difficult to read. His loyalty lies with father, I may need him when I ascend to the throne. I hope the direwolf incident helps with that.
I turn my attention back to assembled knights...and Sandor. I can see Renly among them. He's the representative of the Baratheon family, oh how lucky we are. Ser Hugh of the Vale is also out there. Nice armor for a recently turned knight, did Arryn leave him some gold? It would not surprise me.
I can see the Mallister sigil being shown proudly. The weasel looking Freys are also here. I count six of them, I swear that family reproduces like rats. All members of the Kingsguard are also out there. Jaime is the only one that is not wearing white scaled armor. Instead, his armor is gold, an extremely shiny gold color. With the White Cloak blowing in the breeze. I am hoping Sandor or Ser Barristan puts him down. Hard. Mother always says that you should never bet against family, but Sandor is my family. He is like an older brother to me. I love him more than either Jaime or Renly so I will never bet against him.
"Why aren't they hitting each other?" Joffrey so eloquently asks. I wonder if he will ever compete in one of these tourneys. I highly doubt it, but it would be extremely entertaining to watch.
"Because the King has yet to start it. Why is that father?" Father puts his goblet of wine down long enough to stand up and announce the start it.
The first match is one of the Freys and Lord Stark's guard captain, Jory I believe his name is. The Frey loses to the Northerner, and there is still five of those bastards left.
"He wears rather plain armor. The Northerner." Myrcella says, looking at the man she speaks of. It is true what she says. He wears just blue-grey plate without ornament, with a thin grey cloak that hangs from his shoulders like a soiled rag.
"Armor doesn't need to be pretty, it just has to able to protect you." I say to her. She turns to look at me.
"You have pretty armor." She has a small smirk plastered on her face. It just brightens up her already beautiful face.
"I said it doesn't need to be pretty, not that it can't be." Her smirk grows as she turns back to the action. Barristan just won his match against a man thirty years his junior.
And so we watched the action, as it took all day for it to end for everyone except four men. Sandor looked unstoppable today. As well as Gregor, but that is too be expected. He even killed a man today. Ser Hugh of the Vale, to be exact. He never stood a chance against a monster like that. I can remember meeting him when Jon took him as a squire, I actually liked the boy. A friend, I would call him a friend. A friend who died today.
Uncle Jaime only had one decent match, it was against Barristan. It was hard fought and it was arguably the best match all day. And then there is Loras Tyrell, the Knight of the Fucking Flowers. I really dislike that boy. He dislikes me also though. I might be because I only invited Willas to my nameday celebration. It's either that or it might be his close relationship with Renly.
Once the commons left for their homes, father ordered everybody to the riverside for the feast. Six aurochs have been roasting for hours on wooden spits over the fire. There will be many courses tonight. I can already see strawberries and fresh baked bread laying upon the tables. But, I would bet that all father sees is the iced summerwine. I will not worry myself about him tonight though. Tonight is going to be a good night for celebration. A celebration of what, I do not know. I will be celebrating Sandor and his amazing riding skills. I shall relax and feast. Sometimes, it is nice to be a Prince.
Cersei POV
"What do you mean you are cancelling Joffrey's betrothal just to force Tommen into one?" I spit out at my 'husband'. He doesn't back down though.
"Ned doesn't feel like Joffrey is the best marriage prospect for his daughter. I still wished for an alliance between our families, and Draedon did not want to marry Sansa, so Ned and I came to an agreement. Tommen will marry Arya when they are both of age." He nonchalantly says back to me, before he raises his goblet for another drink.
"Tommen is but a boy. He is not ready for a wife." I can not allow this to happen to my youngest cub.
"Are you deaf, woman? I repeat; they will not marry until they are both of age. If you against this contract, that's fine. Myrcella can be shipped to Winterfell to marry Brandon, if that is what you want." He has the fucking nerve to say such a thing, to me of all people?
"The cripple? As if I would allow such an atrocity to be made against my children." This poor excuse of a man is sealing his fate with this deal.
"They are my children as well, in case you have forgotten." I keep the smirk off of my face.
"No, they are not. I raised them. I held them when they cried. I read to them. You have did absolutely nothing to call them your children. As a matter of fact, Draedon is the only one you even showed a small interest in." I hurt him. I can see it in his eyes.
"Draedon has always been my favorite. My first born son. My heir. Hells, he's the only one that even looks like me."
"Maybe your genes are as weak as your words." My eyes widen, just a little bit. I should not have said that. He might figure it out now.
"Well listen to my weak words, woman; Tommen will marry Arya. End of discussion. Ned is telling Joffrey the decision right now as we speak."
"You didn't even have the courage to tell Joff yourself?" I can not even believe what I am hearing. My precious son is not worthy of his whore daughter?
"Ned felt the need to do it himself. So he and his daughter have sat down to talk to Joffrey in private. Do not worry about it though. Barristan is with him, as is Renly." At least he has some support then. Wait, what?
"Why is Renly with them? If any uncle should be with them, it should be Jaime." I really dislike this entire situation.
"Renly is relaying a message to Joffrey from the Tyrells. And before you say anything else about the situation, I do not know why Renly did not wait until later to give Joffrey the message and Joffrey is almost a man grown. He needs to start making his own decisions and handling political situations, so I allowed him to do this himself." The Tyrells? Those up jump ambitious stewards? With a harlot for a daughter? Oh, no.
"They will ask Joff to marry that daughter of their's. Renly will pretty up the option for him and confuse him into accepting it."
"The boy needs to be coddled less and grow up away from your over bearing arms. Leave him be. Actually, you're giving me a headache so you can leave. Now." He fills his goblet with more Arbor Red and I can't stand to be in his presence anymore. I leave his solar and head to my room.
I need Joffrey to not make a rash decision about any of this. I hope he doesn't do something stupid, like accepting to marry that Tyrell girl.
As I near my room, some of that conversation hits me. Draedon refused the Stark girl's hand and the Tyrell harlot is vying for Joffrey. That doesn't leave a lot of options for Draedon's future Queen. I should speak with him about that, and what better time than the present.
So I immediately turn in the direction of my eldest son's room and begin to walk. As I'm walking, I think of the options for him. The Tyrell girl and the Stark girl, obviously, but other than that, there is not too many others. Arianne Martell is a choice, as long as he can pull Dorne back into the fold. Robert would never allow the Targaryen girl to marry him, and for good reason. Maybe I can pull some Lannister cousins to meet him. To have a strong Lannister woman by his side during his reign just feels right some how.
I make it to his door and knock promptly. No answer. I knock a second time. Again, no answer. I open his door enough to peek inside. I spy my dark haired lion sprawled across his bed, fast asleep. His lion laying out on the balcony, bathing in the sunlight. I enter his room and his lion looks up at me and stares for a second before it lays its head back down. I wish he would get rid of that beast. I am afraid it will eat him one of these days.
I cross his room to his bed. As I look down upon his sleeping form, I realize he looks extremely peaceful. Not a care in the world at the moment. It is nice to see that look on him. I should just leave and allow him to sleep. I turn to leave only to look at his bedside table. Sealed letters with the crowned stag wax on them. He hasn't sent them yet. Perhaps, I could take one and see who he speaks to and what they speak about. I pick one of the letters up and turn to leave again. As I turn, the letter smacks a cup of water off of the table. Once the cup hits the ground, I immediately drop the letter into the spilled water. Draedon wakes from the noise.
"What in the seven hells, mother?" He is still groggy, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"I was coming to speak to you, but once I was close enough to wake you, your beast growled at me and accidentally hit the cup. And well, here we are. Sorry for the abrupt wake up, Drae." I lie convincingly, I hope he believes me. It helps the lie that the lion is now staring at us. Draedon looks to me and then to the lion.
"Oh, well that's understandable. She can be frightening to some people." He stands from the bed and picks the letter up and sets it back on the table. He crosses the room and picks up a tunic to cover his naked top. I notice something odd.
"Where your dog? Shouldn't he be guarding your door while you sleep?" If that scarred freak left to go to a brothel, I will have him strung up by his toes. Draedon groggily grunts, still asleep. His deep blue eyes turn to mine.
"Well if you must know, he is running an errand for me. So do not get angry with him." His dark hair lightly blows from a gentle breeze from his open balcony doors. "What is it that you came to speak with about, mother? Gods, you're not pregnant again, are you?" He raises an eyebrow and I raise mine to match his.
"Why would I have another child when I have four beautiful, perfect cubs already?" He smirks at me.
"Well I wouldn't hate the idea of another Myrcella running around here." I smile warmly at that. I am so glad that they so close with each other.
"Well speak to another if you wish for another child to run around here. Or you could get married and have your own." Let's go ahead and spin the conversation into that direction.
"Ugh, please don't tell me you woke me for a marriage talk." Who figures it out that fast. He walks over to his table and pours two cups of water. He offers me a chair, which I cheerfully sit on.
"Well I've been speaking about marriage all day, might as well speak about it with you." He cocks another eyebrow.
"Whose marriage have you spoken of today? Surely not mine, as I don't have one yet." He pauses for a moment. "I still don't have a marriage, right?" I see...worry in eyes. Aww, he is just precious.
"No, you still don't have one. So calm down, sweetling. Actually I've been speaking about Joff's."
"To the Stark girl? Sansa, I do believe is her name. Nice girl." He now has a thoughtful look upon his chiseled face.
"Actually, the marriage is off." He is shocked and confused, as well. So I should enlighten him about the situation. "Lord Stark doesn't think Joffrey is good enough for his lovely daughter. But Robert wishes for the alliance to continue, so instead, Tommen will marry the other one, Arya." He throws his head back and laughs. A cheerful, boisterous laugh.
"Well Jaime better start teaching Tommen the way of the sword. He will have to beat that girl with a sword just to stab her with his." I shake my head and smack his arm. He playfully rubs the spot I hit. "But seriously, Joffrey will not like this. He will see it as disrespect towards him and he will react to it." On that we can both agree.
"Barristan and Renly are both with him so maybe he will control himself." I try to remain hopeful until he turns his sapphire glare on me.
"Do you really believe that, mother? Do you really believe that your most self entitled, pompous, selfish, arrogant child won't do something rash when he feels disrespected?" He makes a valid point. I sigh heavily.
"You shouldn't speak about your brother that way, it might send the wrong idea." He chuckles lightly at my statement.
"Aside from you, I love Joffrey more than anybody else. All I want is to see him succeed in life, but that doesn't make me blind to his faults. What I said is true about him and I will stand by my statement." Stubborn boy, just like his mother.
"I am not blind to his faults either, I just-" he cuts me off quickly.
"You just don't want to admit them so obviously. You have never allowed him to take responsibility for his actions. Need I remind you about Tommen's fawn?" Here we go with the damn fawn again. " 'a fawn is not a pet.' I remember you saying about the situation. Well guess what mother, a lion is not a pet yet here," he gestures towards the balcony, "my pet lion lays. I had to get Tommen a new pet just for him to stop crying. I wiped his tears while you held Joffrey's hand and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. You made him the way he is today, mother." He knows how to hit you where it hurts. "And I love you for it." That's what- wait what did he say?
"You...love me for it? For the way I raised Joffrey?" He nods once.
"Like I said, I love Joffrey more than anybody else. I hate how he is most of the time, but I wouldn't change him. Joffrey is who is he. And who he is, is you." I stare at him rather expectantly. "Well he is all of your bad traits and none of your good ones. He is not cunning like you nor is he intelligent. He is cruel and selfish and entitled, and I love him for it. For he is exactly the opposite of Myrcella and Tommen. And the balance he brings to my life is needed. He made me become who I am today. But don't get me wrong, sometimes I wish I were the selfish one that doesn't care about their actions. But at the same time, I am glad I am the person my siblings run to when they have a nightmare and need to be told that they are safe and will always be protected. Without Joffrey being Joffrey, I would have became a different man. And I don't think I would have liked who I was." I am taken aback. I never knew that was how he felt about Joffrey.
"But you should be proud of the children you raised. Myrcella and Tommen are the kindest, most caring children anybody will ever meet. And Joffrey is arguably the most selfish and cruel child ever. But his personality is needed in the world, in order to bring balance." His ocean orbs are fully alert now, as he kindly smiles at me.
"And where, pray tell, do you fall on that scale?" I need to know how my cub thinks of himself.
"Personally, I believe I am the perfect mix of the two extremes. Kind and caring until I need to be sadistic. I am just afraid that if I allow my sadistic side out more, it will take me over. And that frightens me." He has a look of stress and worry on his face. I close the distance between us and hug him tightly, he responds with an even tighter grip.
We talk for a few more minutes before I leave. As I close the door to his room, I realize that we didn't even talk about the main why I woke him to begin with. Well, I suppose there is always the future.
Sandor POV
That fucking errand was horrible, but it is done. He better be happy with the results. If he isn't, well that's going to be too bad. It took me all day to finally finish it. It took me even longer to figure everything out about it. Days to get all of the information. He will be happy, or else I will be pissed. As I find the Prince's room, I knock lightly. I can hear movement inside.
"Come in." The Prince yells. I open the door to see him peering at me from his spot at the table. Ruby laying by his feet eating some sort of meat. Chicken most likely, it seems to be her favorite. I am comfortable being around it now but I still don't like being alone with it. While Draedon will use it as a pillow. It's a strange situation. "Well, is it done Sandor?" He looks a bit eager for the answer. I smirk.
"You should know by now not to doubt me. It is done, my Prince." He laughs faintly but smiles fully. He stands to his full height, just a few inches shorter than myself. Ruby stands as well and stretches her furry limbs.
"Well, let's go. Lead the way." I nod as he falls in by my side. Ruby lazily walking behind him as she follows as well. We walk all the way to the staircase that leads to the black cells. We grab torches and begin our descent into the dark damp place.
We make it to the required floor and the only things that can be seen is what our torches have lit, which isn't much. Ruby is quite fine about this, as she trots ahead of the Prince and myself. The light sends rats scurrying for their hiding spots. As we walk, Ruby makes her presence known with a ferocious growl. A scream pierces the silence directly after. The Prince turns to face me, his sapphire eyes glowing in light of the torches. We continue on our path until the lion begins to show Ruby and her possible victim.
He is a rather scrawny runt of a man, not even reaching my chest at his full height. Luckily, or unluckily for him, the way he is chained up with his arms in the air, he is almost eye level to me. His hair is filthy with dirt and dried blood. He may have been a little less than cooperative when I came for him. That can be expected though. He looks like he barely weighs 140 pounds. Life has not been easy for him.
And it is about to take another downhill tumble.
"So you must be the man with the love of fire." The man doesn't speak. "I would rather you told me what I would like to know, but I can't force you to." Again, the man stays silent. "The man I am looking for has been setting fires across Flea Bottom. At first they were harmless fires in the dead of night, but lately he has been getting bolder. Setting fires to houses instead of booths and shops. And with this last fire, a dozen people burned to death. Three of which were children less than ten years of age. So I will ask you one time and one time only; did you set those fires?" The man looks at Draedon and stares into his eyes for a second before cowering.
"Yes." The ragged man mumbles. So quiet we can barely hear him. But we still heard him. The Prince looks at the man before he turns to me.
"Sandor grab one of his legs and hold it so he doesn't kick me." I do as I am bid. The man is resistant but I am stronger than he is. The Prince grabs the man's free leg in one arm and secures it so he can't pull away.
Draedon begins to lower the torch slowly to the bottom of the man's foot. The man understands what is about to happen begins to jerk and twist his body in hopes of getting free. He is unsuccessful and the fear is clear in his eyes. Hells, it is plastered across his face. The torch finally makes it to the foot and the flesh begins to sear and melt away. The smell of burning flesh brings back memories, as does the man's screams. Once the Prince thinks it's enough, he releases the leg, as do I.
Draedon sets the torch on the wall stand and walks to the man, only to hit him in his open body. I can hear a rib crack. A second hit and while nothing cracked this time, the pain is still easily detectable. A third hit to the ribs and the sound of a bone breaking is heard once again. Draedon directs his fists toward the man's face this time and strikes the man's jaw with a powerful blow. The Prince reels back for another blow that ultimately connects and breaks his nose. If I were a lesser man, I might turn away. But luckily I'm not. I've done much worse before.
After he releases some more of his anger, the Prince finally backs away. His back hits the wall before he stops walking backwards. He looks up to see his handiwork, only to slide down the wall into a sitting position. I believe he didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late. The man is alive, although I think he wishes he wasn't. His face is a bloody mess and he is breathing rather raggedly. I almost feel bad for the poor fire starter. Almost. But Draedon is a different story. I rush to his side. He looks up at me with fearful eyes.
"My Prince, why don't you go back to your room for rest? I will finish up here." I help him stand and he nods sullenly. He grabs the torch off the wall and begins his trek back to his room. As he walks back to the staircase, he turns back for one more look at his prisoner. His face falls once again. He turns and leaves with Ruby following closely behind him. Rubbing his leg in support.
I turn back to the bloody bastard.
"Well if it isn't your lucky day..."
Alyssa POV
I make my way to my Prince's room with his dinner in hand. Leg of lamb, a dish of peas and onions, and fresh baked bread with butter. I never cooked lamb before I got this job. But I need a way to thank the Prince for his generosity and kindness. He gave me protection and a home when he could have done nothing. And for that, I am forever grateful to him.
Since taking the job, my face has healed. It is longer bruised and battered but rather back to its healthy state of being. No more swollen eye. No busted lips. Just the way I like my looks to be. Even my hair has grown almost two inches since then. I don't know if I should cut it or not. I am broken out of my thoughts as I approached Prince's room.
I knock as I stand on the outside of his door. I don't have to wait too long before it opens and the Prince appears. He is dishevelled at best. His normally cheerful blue eyes are no longer cheerful, but are more grim. He puts a fake smile on when he sees who I am.
"Oh, hello Alyssa. Dinner time already? I must have lost track of time. Please, come in." He opens the door wider for me to enter. And I do. I walk to the table in his room and set the dishes down upon it. I notice his gigantic lion laying out on the balcony, enjoying the cool night air. I then turn to him.
"M'lord, is something wrong? You don't seem yourself today." He closes the door and begins to walk to me. I hope that that wasn't too blunt for him. I would hate to mess up what he has given me. A life.
"No, I am just fine. I really appreciate the food, but i would have come down sooner or later to grab something." He attempts to change the subject rather abruptly.
"M'lord, I know something is wrong. You helped me in my time of need, please allow me to help you in yours." I plead with him. I can't allow this wonderful man to feel bad about something if I can help.
"Hmph, is it that obvious?" I nod my head once. He sighs heavily. "I just don't want to turn into my father." His sad eyes connect with mine.
"What do you mean, m'lord?" He sighs once again.
"Before he ascended to the throne, he was an amazing warrior, a man of honor even. But somewhere along his reign, he stopped caring about everything that wasn't wine, food, or whores. And I don't want that. I want to remain who I am, but I don't know if I can." The last part was barely above a whisper. He now stands with his vision directed to the floor. I cup his chin and bring his eyes to meet mine.
"You will never become like that. You are a kind, caring, sweet person with honor. And I feel as if I can see the future, for I know that you will never stop being that person." I release his chin and smile gently at him. He smiles back.
"Really?" He is like an innocent child sometimes.
"Really, m'lord." He raises his hand to cup my cheek. And instead of flinching away, I close my eyes and move closer into his touch. He is so warm, almost as if he has heat of a summer day in the palm of his hand. His thumb strokes my cheek, as he rubs circles with it. It is at this moment that my eyes open and meet his. Chocolate meets sapphire, and I am in a trance. I lean forward instinctively, but so does he.
Our lips touch. Lightly at first, but after a few seconds, lightly becomes hungrily. He runs his fingers through my hair as I pull him as close possible. As his hands reach for the ties of my dress, I can feel my heart thumping against my ribs. He only part for one reason; lack of air. I gulp the air down greedily as he does the same.
Just as he turns me towards his bed, a knock sounds at the door. The Prince growls in frustration.
"Who is it?" He calls out, not taking his lust filled eyes off of me.
"It is Barristan, your Grace. There is urgent news." Barristan opens the door, only to spot us standing by the bed, breathing heavily. He lowers his head, most likely in embarrassment. I can't blame him.
"Ser Barristan, please tell me this can wait." The Prince is begging the older knight.
"No, my Prince. It can't. It has to do with your brother." The older man still has his head bowed.
"You can look up Ser Barristan, there was nothing bad going on." The Knight finally looks up, with a sorrowful look upon his face. The Prince fills a goblet with water. "So what has Joffrey done now? Kill another cat?" The Prince raises his goblet.
"No, your Grace. Prince Joffrey is dead." The Prince's goblet drops from his hand, water spills everywhere.