The God of War
A beautiful day made itself known as the Sun rose into the sky from the east, it's rays shining across the lands and bathing the newly awoken citizens of the Seven Kingdoms in it's warm-
"What the fuck!?"
...warm light.
"You little jackass, stop that!" Orys yelled at his little four namedays old brother, who was currently trying to stab fifty holes into a poor cat with a fork. The Crown Prince was making his way to the training grounds to get used to his new blade, when he came upon the child, accompanied by Meryn Trant who just stood there. Orys' eyes widened like saucers as he spotted his brother's violent tendencies. The Prince dashed forwards to grab the fork out of his tiny hands and proceeded to give him a an epic scolding.
"What where you thinking? Letting him do that? Do you have shit for brains Trant!?" he roared at the Kingsguard, whom had the gall to looked offended. The Annointed Knight step forwards to explain himself when he spotted one of the few men who were actually bigger than him in the Red Keep.
Sandor Clegane came upon them, putting two and two together quickly as he spotted the tear filled eyes of the second prince, the angered look in the Crown Prince's eyes and the bloodied fork, accompanied by a mewling wounded cat. The Hound was making his way toward the training yards to have his daily sparring session with Orys but merely stopped to observe the commotion, standing behind the older Baratheon.
Orys knew it wasn't Joff's fault, not really. He knew that some people were well; just... born that way. What his brother needed was a firm hand and constant guidance. Something which was almost impossible considering his father didn't care to even look at his other child and with Cersei absolutely coddling him so much it wasn't even funny anymore. People like Trant only made it worse, no, it was up to Orys to raise his brother by himself. Not even Jaime seemed to not give two shits about his nephew. The man simply didn't have it in him to deal with toddlers and babies.
"Well Trant? Open your fucking mouth and tell me why you were just standing there still as a statue?" he asked again, throwing the fork aside, leaving in clattering on the floor, scaring Joffrey further and making the cat jump; the feline finally decided it had enough of the humans and slink away quickly, leaving a blood trail.
It seemed the Kingsguard did not appreciate being dressed down by child, even if it was the future King. His nostrils flared, his stance was suddenly stiff and his eyes widened slightly in anger as he took a step forward Knight opened his mouth to retort but was immediately cut off.
"You frowning at me? Are you actually fucking frowning at me you cunt? You think you have the right to be angry? Listen here fuckface, you so much as twitch your nose at me again and Clegane will start removing heads from shoulders, understand?"
Well he really wouldn't, but a bit of scare tactics should put Trant in his place.
Immediately a the sound of a heavy sword leaving it's sheathe screeched out; Ser Meryn's eyes was immediately glued to the snarling Clegane, who's eyes glinted in malevolence as he stood ready to cut him down.
"From now on I don't want you guarding my brother. If Cersei bitches about it you tell her to come to me, I don't care what fucking Jaime says, tell Ser Barristan the same thing too. I see you near Joff again and my friend here will personally see you to the gates of hell." he sneered.
Not giving the shocked Kingsuard a chance to reply, Orys proceeded to dismiss him with a 'fuck off!' and a wave of the hand. The sputtering Knight looked like he wanted to argue but quickly averted his eyes, unwilling to test the Prince's patience. He swiftly acquiesced to the Prince's command and promptly 'Fucked off'.
Orys turned his attention to his little brother then, who's knees where knocking against one another as his brother's furious eyes turned on him. The little boy, who was dressed handsomely in a tiny doublet meshed with Lannister colors immediately launched himself into his brother's waist, sobbing as he did.
Orys' eyebrow raised imperceptibly, looks like Cersei's influence hadn't really taken over her son just yet. Orys turned to nod at the Hound, thanking him for his presence before turning back to deal with the little golden lion who was currently plastered to his middle.
"Why are you crying little Lion?" he cooed as he stroke the boy's silky locks. Orys knew anger wasn't the way to go about this, it would only push him away. But he couldn't coddle the boy either like his mother did. Joff needed to learn what he did was wrong, and that being a Prince did not meant he could go about doing whatever he liked. Orys snorted, okay that felt a bit hypocritical, since Orys was well known for doing exactly that, whatever he liked.
"C-cause Ory is a-angwy..." the boy sniffed, hugging Orys tighter. With a jerk of his head, Orys dismissed the Hound, who looked all too eager to make himself scarce. Bringing the boy aside, Orys knelt down and with a finger, gently pushed the child's chin up so they made eye contact.
"Do you know why?" he simply asked. A part of him felt guilty, after all the boy was only three, going on four. But he told himself it was necessary, even if he had to beat empathy into the boy's head.
Joffrey only managed a hiccup and a squeak of 'no'.
Orys sighed deeply, he wiped the boy's chubby cheeks of tears, and gently ruffled his hair.
"Why did you stab the cat Joff?" he questioned. Joffery's eyes widened, as if in shock. It looked like he did not expect that it was because of that his brother was angry.
"I w-wanted to s-see the baby k-kitty!" Joff stammered, his not so innocent face scrunched into a frown.
'oh fuck me.' Orys thought. That was what he wanted to do!? Open up the pregnant cat to see the babies? That was just...messed up.
"But what about the cat little lion? It would have died right?" Orys nudged, wanting to see what the boy's mind came up with.
"Y-yes?" he answered uncertainly.
"And the baby too yes?" he continued, forcing his voice to remain warm and inviting. Joff nodded his little head, golden curls splaying about his head. Orys if he was honest with himself, was at a loss. Normally the psychos he encountered were usually the ones lobbing Killing Curses at him; and he had no qualms about shooting them full of lightning. This was new territory.
Reaching out with a hand, Orys pinched the child's arm, not so hard as to mark him, but enough to really hurt. Joff squealed and tried to slap his hand away weakly. Pain and betrayal filled the child's eyes as he stared as his brother in confusion.
"That hurt did it not?" Orys asked him. The blond prince managed another nod, his attention half-focused on his throbbing arm.
"What if I were to stab you with a fork, just like you did to the cat? Just to see what was inside?" he questioned again. Joffrey looked confused, and when he voiced it out, Orys seized the opportunity to turn his situation around.
"No! Bad Orys! It hurts!"
"Yes, so why'd you do it to the cat?"
The child look stumped, as if Orys had just dropped the most important clue to the greatest treasure in the universe on his little head.
"I...I...- I don't..know." he mumbled out, looking as guilty as a child of his age could be.
"Why did you think I was angry?"
"Because... I was bad?" the boy frowned, trying his best to understand. Orys smiled, no doubt his brother would forget this incident in a few weeks, but it was a start. If his own father and Cersei were too busy being a bunch of Jackasses to raise Joff properly, than Orys would do it himself.
'I hope my father's bastards aren't as hard to deal with.' he groaned internally. He couldn't imagine ten black-haired Joffreys running around making a fool of themselves and stabbing pregnant cats.
"Yes because you were bad little lion, and you were committing a crime! When I'm King stabbing animals will be against the law, you wouldn't want to end up in jail now would you?" he raised his voice a little. Orys thought that a little bit of flair usually help when it came to dealing with little children.
Joffrey shook his head again, his bottom lip trembling.
"Do you promise to be a good boy then?" he continued, widening his eyes a little to add on.
"Yes!" he squeaked out.
"Good, keep it up and maybe one day you'll be Hand of the King." he promised, wiggling his eyebrows as his brother ooed and ahh'ed.
"Ah Peter, glad to see you. Escort the Prince to his lessons will you? I'm sure Pycelle is missing his most brilliant student." he said, patting Joff on his little behind, getting the child to move ahead. Sensing a familiar presence behind him, Orys turned around to address his visitor.
"Quite the show my Prince.." a silky smooth feminine voice called out from behind. Orys was unsurprised to see the Spider himself standing before him. The Cockless wonder must be frustrated that he was the only whom he couldn't sneak up on.
"I wonder when you'll stop trying?" he scolded the man lightly, receiving a demure smile in return.
"Apologies Your Grace, but I came to tell you that I've made the necessary arrangements already. Although I must say, bringing the whole lot of them here will enrage quite the number of nobles." the Eunuch informed him.
"Lannisters you mean." Orys replied. Clicking his tongue, Orys bid the eunuch to follow him as he continued walking towards his destination.
"Quite right, I'm sure you knew of the King's plans to bring young Mya over to King's Landing for you. The Queen protested then and I'm sure she'll do the same, especially if you requested it." the words flew out of Varys' lips like song.
"True, but that's all she would dare to do. The woman will bitch and moan but I doubt she has the steel to truly attempt anything." the Prince replied.
"Forgive me Prince Orys, but I doubt that very much." Varys said, amusement clearly taking over his effeminate features.
"You also talk too much spider." Varys bowed his head in apology, before waiting for Orys to continue.
"Tell me my lord, when you look at this Kingdom, when you truly observe it in all your spymaster's glory and expertise, what do you see?" he asked, after a few moments of pondering.
If Varys looked surprised by the question, he didn't show it. The man gave a small smile in return, mulling the words in his head, as the two walked in silence. Orys didn't mind, not really. He wanted the man to take his time, it was after all quite open to interpretation. When the pair finally arrived at the training grounds, Orys looked over to the spider once more, curious at what he'd come up with.
Varys hummed for a moment before smiling again.
"I see immense potential my prince. For once in this Kingdom's three hundred year old lifetime, it has been truly unified. Without the inteference of the Targaryens and their dragons, ruining the Seven Kingdoms with each successor, the Baratheon dynasty can finally bring the continent into a new age, one of paradise." he said.
It was quite the speech in Orys's opinion, he was just a bit impressed at the man's skill to weave words and sentences together that pleased the listening ear. His favorite part was the Baratheons bringing the continent into a 'new age'. Orys almost burst out in laughter. No matter how much the cockless wonder thought to be the greatest spy, eye contact was all Orys needed to determine the truth.
The Prince turned around to stare the spymaster dead in the eye, his rapidly growing height almost matching the spymaster's own.
"Very good Varys, but you're lying."
As shit as his mind magicks was, even he knew when someone was bluffing, no one could escape his all-seeing eyes. He didn't know what secrets Varys was keeping but it appeared the Orys had no need dig around for now, but he promised himself he would have the truth, either by Legillimency or by Cruciatus.
Varys' face twitched a little, which Orys thought must have been the equivalent of the man frowning. Orys moved closer into the man's personal space, mildly impressed yet again that the Varys' only reaction was that of a raised eyebrow.
"One wrong move my friend and you'll find yourself in the bottom of the sea...tread lightly will you?" he whispered patting the man's shoulder before turning around to leave, leaving the Spymaster in his own torrent of thoughts.
End
